Rumi Teaches Blog Posts: 2013 - 2014 by Nashid Fareed-Ma'at - HTML preview

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Come, Come - Part 2 of 2

September 30, 2013

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JALAAL UD-DIIN RUMI!!!

Come, come, whoever you are.

Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving -- it doesn’t matter,

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

Come, even if you have broken your vow a hundred times,

a thousand times, a million times.

Come, come again. Come.

***

 In the last post we examined a contextual examination of the first two lines, particularly in regards to specific parties mentioned in this poem of invitation. Let’s continue with the rest of the poem.

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

As much as the first two lines are a broad invitation, this line begins to specify what this broad audience is being invited to. It is not uncommon that “despair” (in its broadest sense) often brings people to the door of religion and spirituality. Events and occurrences that fracture, if not completely undercut, our hope in life can challenge us to question how serious we are about the door we’re standing before. And how often underlying this diminished hope is a misplaced hope: placing trust in worldly things that are not reliable; or having more faith in worldly things than the Beloved, despite proclamations of placing the Beloved first. As much as despair may bring one within the reach of this invitation, it is exactly that -- despair -- which must be left behind before crossing the threshold to join this caravan.

Some points of Islam may be helpful in further clarifying this point. In Al-Faatihah, The Opening surah (chapter) of the Qur’aan, there is a verse that states (transliteration): Iyyaaka na’budu wa iyaaka nasta’iin. This verse can be translated as: “You (the Beloved) alone do we worship, You alone do we ask for help.” This verse is repeated many times in each of the five daily prayers Muslims make yet is not always genuinely realized. It is one thing to conceptually embrace what this verse conveys, another thing to come to a genuine realization of this. When faced with challenges, especially those which make us despair, is our first inclination to turn to the Beloved in reverent praise and ask the Beloved for help? Or do we instead look primarily to other means, whether our own devices or assistance from others, to address such situations?

Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi, adhering to the tenets of Islam, realized the wisdom of turning first and only to the Beloved when encountering challenges. A translation of the Masnavi, composed by Jalaal ud-Diin, presents the following:

Then what remedy but the aid of the Remedier?

Despair is copper and sight [or: realization] its elixir.

Lay your despair before The Beloved,

That you may escape from pain without medicine.

(adapted from a translation of the Masnavi

by E.H. Whinfield, M.A., p. 153)

To be explicit, there is no remedy to any situation in life but the remedy (help) of the Beloved. And if despair becomes the means to realize this, then it becomes something of value -- perhaps not as valuable as gold but copper is still something a caravan can trade. Truth be told, it is often our neglect of this essential principle that precipitates the need for situations to manifest that bring challenges and despair into our lives as opportunities to wake up and remember the Beloved. The fullness of what such remembrance can become is beyond comprehensive description, but such remembrance is the choice treasure of this caravan.

And even the word “caravan” is rich in meaning: that those who accept this invitation are joining a party that is moving somewhere. One doesn’t become part this caravan to remain where you joined it. Instead, drop the despair and be prepared to journey in search of... (I’ll let you fill in the blank.)

Come, even if you have broken your vow a hundred times,

a thousand times, a million times.

Come, come again. Come.

What are the vows we have broken? The purpose of our creation. To translate a section of the Qur’aan:

{56} I [Allaah] created the jinn and humankind only that they might worship Me. {57} I seek no livelihood from them, nor do I ask that they should feed [or provide for] Me. {58} Lo! Allaah! The Beloved it is Who giveth livelihood, the Lord of Unbreakable Might.

-- Surah 51 Al-Thaariyaat (The Winnowing Winds), Verses 56 - 58 Islam holds that we are given divine laws, moral codes, and cognizance of nature’s order to fulfill the purpose of worshiping the Beloved. The cause of so much trouble in the world lays with violating these vows. Yet the mercy of the Beloved endures that even when we violate these, so often are we afforded invitations to come back to fulfillment of these vows. This is an explicit context for these words, things Jalaal ud-Diin openly addressed in his poetry, stories, teachings; it is also reflected in how he lived.

So merciful is the Beloved’s patience is that we may find ourselves being offered this invitation after breaking these vows a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times. Despite repeated and sometimes entrenched violation of these vows the invitation to Come is still offered. Even if we come and break the vows again, still we are invited to Come Again, to keep coming as long as mercy affords us the chance to come back to the purpose of our creation. Even if we are foolishly stubborn in breaking these vows, just to realize the abounding mercy afforded to us can be transformative. Including the mercy of having saints come to remind of this invitation from the Beloved to Come, Come Again. [Just] Come.

Not all the blog entries will be as didactic as this one was, but hopefully you realize the importance of this invitation. This poem invitation informs the tone of this blog.

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