Judging Oneself Rightly

A common failing is to measure oneself against people who are worse, rather than against people who are better — "I'm not as bad as him," "I'm not as bad as her," "I'm good enough, at least I still come to these evenings" — the defence mechanism of the nafs al-ammārah, which always looks downward for comparison rather than upward. The proper standard of judgement is not any of this; it is Allah's own criteria, set out entirely in what amounts to a human user manual, this same Book: who truly are the muttaqūn, those mindful of Him? Novel after novel gets worked through, cover to cover, to pass a single school subject, sometimes in preparation before the school year has even started; it is worth asking, for Allah's own sake, when the Book of Allah (swt) was last read that same way, cover to cover, and whether what Allah (swt) actually wants is even known. Being honest about it, few can claim they have; whoever has is the exception to the rule. Being Muslim for twenty-five years is no guarantee, in itself, of ever having read the Qurʾān, or of ever having come to know, from beginning to end, who the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) truly was. The excuse that Arabic is not known does not hold: everything required for this is available in English, and readily supplied to anyone who lacks it. For those who find reading difficult, or who simply grow tired of it, audio recordings exist — recordings of the life of the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), and recitation of the Qurʾān itself alongside its English translation, for listening rather than reading — precisely for this purpose, and there is no reason not to make use of them; without this, real submission to Allah (swt) cannot follow.

The whole purpose of gathering to learn in this way is to help one another toward this change, to wake up from what is otherwise an inherited, unexamined religion — a muqallid's Islam, a folkloric Islam, in which the faith is simply an extension of culture: Jumuʿah on Fridays, prayer on the two ʿĪds, and beyond that very little else known of what being Muslim actually requires, taken for granted simply because it is "our culture." Islam is not this. It is an absolute way of life, and it calls for the heart itself to be opened to Allah (swt), operated on, so to speak, by the example of the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), filled with good akhlāq and emptied of whatever does not belong there. Nobody else can do this for a person, and nobody can be compelled to do it: none of it is even compulsory, and no particular class or teacher need be attended at all, provided the source relied upon instead is a sound one — Allah (swt) helps in proportion to sincere intention and to the level of commitment actually made. A teacher need not be liked personally for what is taught to be worth learning: nobody chooses a doctor because the name on the door happens to be a fetching one — "Dr Johnson," say, a cute enough name — but for that doctor's ability to help, and goes elsewhere if that help is not forthcoming. So too here: what matters is the deen itself, not the person teaching it, or whether that person happens to be liked.