Sabr at the First News

When a loved one passes away — a brother, a sister, a mother, a father, a close friend — what should the reaction be? What is the duty of a Muslim on hearing such news? The first thing said, on hearing any such news, is innā lillāhi wa innā ilayhi rājiʿūn: it is a verse of the Qurʾān, meaning, from Allah we came, and unto Him we shall return. In other words: it is said to oneself that we came from Allah, and unto Him we shall go back — He is the One who placed this person in the world, and it is back to Allah (swt) that he is going. So what, in the end, is the tragedy? The reality of it is to be thought through.

Does this mean that crying is not allowed, that no emotion may be shown? It does not. When Ibrāhīm, Rasūlullāh's (peace be upon him) young son, passed away, one of the Ṣaḥābah came and saw Rasūlullāh (peace be upon him) crying, tears rolling down his cheeks. He came and said: O Messenger of Allah, you have told us not to cry over our dead — how is it that you yourself are crying? A good question. Rasūlullāh (peace be upon him) said: I have forbidden you two forms of crying, which were a custom of the ignorant, the jāhilīyah, the pre-Islamic practice of the pagan Arabs. They used to do two things. They would start singing while they cried, working themselves into a frenzy; they would tear at their hair, tear at their chests; they would grab handfuls of soil and throw it over their faces to display their state. This was one practice which Rasūlullāh (peace be upon him) says he had forbidden. And the other was that they used to praise the dead extravagantly — he was such a fantastic person, such a man, such a man — in the way a eulogy is given by the graveside, flowers laid on the coffin, one voice after another declaring how wonderful the person was, why did he die, on and on. This second practice, too, Rasūlullāh (peace be upon him) says he has prohibited: that is what has been forbidden. But to show emotion, while accepting the qadar of Allah (swt), is something else — he was only human. The heart feels the sorrow, he said, and the eyes become its interpreter: the tears begin to roll. His own tears, that day, were no more than a light dripping.

There is the account of one who lost a shaykh of his — a teacher — in a car accident, and of that shaykh's son, who came to the janāzah just after the washing had finished. Someone who was among those washing the body relates how the son came in with full respect: the tears came slowly, without any sound, without display of any kind. He said innā lillāhi wa innā ilayhi rājiʿūn, and bent down and placed a small kiss upon his father's cheek. Set beside how such news is so often met elsewhere — hitting the roof, going berserk, needing to be admitted for shock treatment — this was a different order of composure altogether. But a Muslim is a Muslim.