Sincerity, and Finding the Root Cause of a Sin

A person should not simply depend on having made tawbah once and consider the matter closed. Technically, that person is in the clear. But when the memory of those sins returns — sometimes even during ṣalāh, when a certain image triggers the memory of an old, ugly sin — the moment it is remembered, the heart should say astaghfirullāh, asking Allah (swt) for forgiveness again, reminding itself, never letting the nafs off the hook too easily. But if the sin that tawbah was made from keeps recurring, an investigation is called for — a search for the root cause, or root causes, of that particular sin.

Some of the ʿulamāʾ teach a particular exercise, called an intelligence test — a test of who is the sharper, a person or his nafs. One of the seven major sins, the kabāʾir, is chosen, and a promise is made to Allah (swt) to go forty days without committing it — lying, for instance, or ghībah, backbiting, or whatever affects a person most. Suppose ghībah is chosen: great care is taken not to backbite anyone, and, as part of the exercise, everything is written down each time a lapse occurs. Should the lapse happen — even on day thirty-seven — the count returns to day one; the forty days must be completed without a single lapse.

So a person goes Monday clear of ghībah, Tuesday clear, Wednesday clear, Thursday and Friday clear. Then, come Saturday, a lapse happens without warning. Standing back to examine it — in whose company was this? — the answer emerges: an uncle's company, whose words drew the lapse out without any intention of joining in. The following week runs Monday through Friday clear again, and then on Saturday night, in that same company, Hasan, a friend of the uncle's, makes a remark and the lapse happens again. What does the pattern show? That company draws out ghībah, and self-control fails there; the root cause is the company kept, and that company must be abandoned.

If a sin is committed constantly, if tawbah is made with real tears, real remorse, real strength of resolve, and yet control is still lost and the sin returns, the situation itself must be examined. What brought it on? Is it a Saturday night? Is it being alone in a room, on the internet, with certain images, certain websites, certain ḥarām in reach? Otherwise — in good company, away from ḥarām — is it only being alone with the internet that undoes self-control? Then that cause must be identified and removed: it should be made known to friends, so that the internet is never switched on alone — only in front of others, where it cannot be done. If it is a television programme, SBS watched late at night, then that cause, too, must be kept away from.