THE UNCOVERING OF THE EIGHTH VEIL: CONCERNING THE PILGRIMAGE.
The pilgrimage (_ḥajj_) is binding on every Moslem of sound mind who is
able to perform it and has reached manhood. It consists in putting on
the pilgrim’s garb at the proper place, in standing on `Arafát, in
circumambulating the Ka`ba, and in running between Ṣafá and Marwa. One
must not enter the sacred territory without being clad as a pilgrim (_bé
iḥrám_). The sacred territory (_ḥaram_) is so called because it contains
the Station of Abraham (_Maqám-i Ibráhím_). Abraham had two stations:
the station of his body, namely, Mecca, and the station of his soul,
namely, friendship (_khullat_). Whoever seeks his bodily station must
renounce all lusts and pleasures and put on the pilgrim’s garb and
clothe himself in a winding-sheet (_kafan_) and refrain from hunting
lawful game, and keep all his senses under strict control, and be
present at `Arafát and go thence to Muzdalifa and Mash`ar al-Ḥarám, and
pick up stones and circumambulate the Ka`ba and visit Miná and stay
there three days and throw stones in the prescribed manner and cut his
hair and perform the sacrifice and put on his (ordinary) clothes. But
whoever seeks his spiritual station must renounce familiar associations
and bid farewell to pleasures and take no thought of other than God (for
his looking towards the phenomenal world is interdicted); then he must
stand on the `Arafát of gnosis (_ma`rifat_) and from there set out for
the Muzdalifa of amity (_ulfat_) and from there send his heart to
circumambulate the temple of Divine purification (_tanzíh_), and throw
away the stones of passion and corrupt thoughts in the Miná of faith,
and sacrifice his lower soul on the altar of mortification and arrive at
the station of friendship (_khullat_). To enter the bodily station is to
be secure from enemies and their swords, but to enter the spiritual
station is to be secure from separation (from God) and its
consequences.[163]
Footnote 163:
Here follows the story of Abraham and Nimrod which has occurred
before, p. 73.
Muḥammad b. al-Faḍl says: “I wonder at those who seek His temple in this
world: why do not they seek contemplation of Him in their hearts? The
temple they sometimes attain and sometimes miss, but contemplation they
might enjoy always. If they are bound to visit a stone, which is looked
at only once a year, surely they are more bound to visit the temple of
the heart, where He may be seen three hundred and sixty times in a day
and night. But the mystic’s every step is a symbol of the journey to
Mecca, and when he reaches the sanctuary he wins a robe of honour for
every step.” Abú Yazíd says: “If anyone’s recompense for worshipping God
is deferred until to-morrow he has not worshipped God aright to-day,”
for the recompense of every moment of worship and mortification is
immediate. And Abú Yazíd also says: “On my first pilgrimage I saw only
the temple; the second time, I saw both the temple and the Lord of the
temple; and the third time I saw the Lord alone.” In short, where
mortification is, there is no sanctuary: the sanctuary is where
contemplation is. Unless the whole universe is a man’s trysting-place
where he comes nigh unto God and a retired chamber where he enjoys
intimacy with God, he is still a stranger to Divine love; but when he
has vision the whole universe is his sanctuary.
“_The darkest thing in the world is the Beloved’s house without the
Beloved._”
Accordingly, what is truly valuable is not the Ka`ba, but contemplation
and annihilation in the abode of friendship, of which things the sight
of the Ka`ba is indirectly a cause. But we must recognize that every
cause depends on the author of causes (_musabbib_), from whatever hidden
place the providence of God may appear, and whencesoever the desire of
the seeker may be fulfilled. The object of mystics (_mardán_) in
traversing wildernesses and deserts is not the sanctuary itself, for to
a lover of God it is unlawful to look upon His sanctuary. No; their
object is mortification in a longing that leaves them no rest, and eager
dissolution in a love that has no end. A certain man came to Junayd.
Junayd asked him whence he came. He replied: “I have been on the
pilgrimage.” Junayd said: “From the time when you first journeyed from
your home have you also journeyed away from all sins?” He said: “No.”
“Then,” said Junayd, “you have made no journey. At every stage where you
halted for the night did you traverse a station on the way to God?” He
said: “No.” “Then,” said Junayd, “you have not trodden the road stage by
stage. When you put on the pilgrim’s garb at the proper place did you
discard the attributes of humanity as you cast off your ordinary
clothes?” “No.” “Then you have not put on the pilgrim’s garb. When you
stood on `Arafát did you stand one instant in contemplation of God?”
“No.” “Then you have not stood on `Arafát. When you went to Muzdalifa
and achieved your desire did you renounce all sensual desires?” “No.”
“Then you have not gone to Muzdalifa. When you circumambulated the
Temple did you behold the immaterial beauty of God in the abode of
purification?” “No.” “Then you have not circumambulated the Temple. When
you ran between Ṣafá and Marwa did you attain to the rank of purity
(_ṣafá_) and virtue (_muruwwat_)?” “No.” “Then you have not run. When
you came to Miná did all your wishes (_munyathá_) cease?” “No.” “Then
you have not yet visited Miná. When you reached the slaughter-place and
offered sacrifice did you sacrifice the objects of sensual desire?”
“No.” “Then you have not sacrificed. When you threw the stones did you
throw away whatever sensual thoughts were accompanying you?” “No.” “Then
you have not yet thrown the stones, and you have not yet performed the
pilgrimage. Return and perform the pilgrimage in the manner which I have
described in order that you may arrive at the station of Abraham.”
Fuḍayl b. `Iyáḍ says: “I saw at Mount `Arafát a youth who stood silent
with bowed head while all the people were praying aloud, and I asked him
why he did not pray like them. He answered that he was in great
distress, having lost the spiritual state (_waqtí_) which he formerly
enjoyed, and that he could by no means cry aloud unto God. I said:
‘Pray, in order that through the blessings of this multitude God may
accomplish thy desire.’ He was about to lift up his hands and pray, when
suddenly he uttered a shriek and died on the spot.” Dhu ´l-Nún the
Egyptian says: “At Miná I saw a young man sitting quietly while the
people were engaged in the sacrifices. I looked at him to see what he
was doing. He cried: ‘O God, all the people are offering sacrifice. I
wish to sacrifice my lower soul to Thee; do Thou accept it.’ Having
spoken, he pointed with his forefinger to his throat and fell dead—may
God have mercy on him!”
Pilgrimages, then, are of two kinds: (1) in absence (from God) and (2)
in presence (of God). Anyone who is absent from God at Mecca is in the
same position as if he were absent from God in his own house, and anyone
who is present with God in his own house is in the same position as if
he were present with God at Mecca. Pilgrimage is an act of mortification
(_mujáhadat_) for the sake of obtaining contemplation (_musháhadat_),
and mortification does not become the direct cause of contemplation, but
is only a means to it. Therefore, inasmuch as a means has no further
effect on the reality of things, the true object of pilgrimage is not to
visit the Ka`ba, but to obtain contemplation of God.
_Chapter on Contemplation._
The Apostle said: “Make your bellies hungry and your livers thirsty and
leave the world alone, that perchance ye may see God with your hearts”;
and he also said, “Worship God as though thou sawest Him, for if thou
dost not see Him, yet He sees thee.” God said to David: “Dost thou know
what is knowledge of Me? It is the life of the heart in contemplation of
Me.” By “contemplation” the Ṣúfís mean spiritual vision of God in public
and private, without asking how or in what manner. Abu ´l-`Abbás b. `Aṭá
says in reference to the words of God: “_As to those who say, ‘Our Lord
is God,’ and who become steadfast_” (Kor. xli, 30), i.e. “they say ‘Our
Lord is God’ in self-mortification and they ‘become steadfast’ on the
carpet of contemplation”.
There are really two kinds of contemplation. The former is the result of
perfect faith (_ṣihhat-i yaqín_), the latter of rapturous love, for in
the rapture of love a man attains to such a degree that his whole being
is absorbed in the thought of his Beloved and he sees nothing else.
Muḥammad b. Wási` says: “I never saw anything without seeing God
therein,” i.e. through perfect faith. This vision is from God to His
creatures. Shiblí says: “I never saw anything except God,” i.e. in the
rapture of love and the fervour of contemplation. One sees the act with
his bodily eye and, as he looks, beholds the Agent with his spiritual
eye; another is rapt by love of the Agent from all things else, so that
he sees only the Agent. The one method is demonstrative (_istidlálí_),
the other is ecstatic (_jadhbí_). In the former case, a manifest proof
is derived from the evidences of God; in the latter case, the seer is
enraptured and transported by desire: evidences and verities are a veil
to him, because he who knows a thing does not reverence aught besides,
and he who loves a thing does not regard aught besides, but renounces
contention with God and interference with Him in His decrees and His
acts. God hath said of the Apostle at the time of his Ascension: “_His
eyes did not swerve or transgress_” (Kor. liii, 17), on account of the
intensity of his longing for God. When the lover turns his eye away from
created things, he will inevitably see the Creator with his heart. God
hath said: “_Tell the believers to close their eyes_” (Kor. xxiv, 30),
i.e. to close their bodily eyes to lusts and their spiritual eyes to
created things. He who is most sincere in self-mortification is most
firmly grounded in contemplation for inward contemplation is connected
with outward mortification. Sahl b. `Abdalláh of Tustar says: “If anyone
shuts his eye to God for a single moment, he will never be rightly
guided all his life long,” because to regard other than God is to be
handed over to other than God, and one who is left at the mercy of other
than God is lost. Therefore the life of contemplatives is the time
during which they enjoy contemplation (_musháhadat_): time spent in
seeing ocularly (_mu`áyanat_) they do not reckon as life, for that to
them is really death. Thus, when Abú Yazíd was asked how old he was, he
replied: “Four years.” They said: “How can that be?” He answered: “I
have been veiled (from God) by this world for seventy years, but I have
seen Him during the last four years: the period in which one is veiled
does not belong to one’s life.” Shiblí cried in his prayers: “O God,
hide Paradise and Hell in Thy unseen places, that Thou mayest be
worshipped disinterestedly.” One who is forgetful of God nevertheless
worships Him, through faith, because human nature has an interest in
Paradise; but inasmuch as the heart has no interest in loving God, one
who is forgetful of God is debarred from contemplating Him. The Apostle
told `Á´isha that he did not see God on the night of the Ascension, but
Ibn `Abbás relates that the Apostle told him that he saw God on that
occasion. Accordingly, this remains a matter of controversy; but in
saying that he did not see God the Apostle was referring to his bodily
eye, whereas in saying the contrary he was referring to his spiritual
eye. Since `Á´isha was a formalist and Ibn `Abbás a spiritualist, the
Apostle spoke with each of them according to their insight. Junayd said:
“If God should say to me, ‘Behold Me,’ I should reply, ‘I will not
behold Thee,’ because in love the eye is other (than God) and alien: the
jealousy of other-ness would prevent me from beholding Him. Since in
this world I was wont to behold Him without the mediation of the eye,
how should I use such mediation in the next world?“
”_Truly, I envy mine eye the sight of Thee,
And I close mine eye when I look on Thee._”
Junayd was asked: “Do you wish to see God?” He said: “No.” They asked
why. He answered: “When Moses wished, he did not see Him, and when
Muḥammad did not wish, he saw Him.” Our wishing is the greatest of the
veils that hinder us from seeing God, because in love the existence of
self-will is disobedience, and disobedience is a veil. When self-will
vanishes in this world, contemplation is attained, and when
contemplation is firmly established, there is no difference between this
world and the next. Abú Yazíd says: “God has servants who would
apostatize if they were veiled from Him in this world or in the next,”
i.e. He sustains them with perpetual contemplation and keeps them alive
with the life of love; and when one who enjoys revelation is deprived of
it, he necessarily becomes an apostate. Dhu ´l-Nún says: “One day, when
I was journeying in Egypt, I saw some boys who were throwing stones at a
young man. I asked them what they wanted of him. They said: ‘He is mad.’
I asked how his madness showed itself, and they told me that he
pretended to see God. I turned to the young man and inquired whether he
had really said this. He answered: ‘I say that if I should not see God
for one moment, I should remain veiled and should not be obedient
towards Him.’” Some Ṣúfís have fallen into the mistake of supposing that
spiritual vision and contemplation represent such an idea (_ṣúratí_) of
God as is formed in the mind by the imagination either from memory or
reflection. This is utter anthropomorphism (_tashbíh_) and manifest
error. God is not finite that the imagination should be able to define
Him or that the intellect should comprehend His nature. Whatever can be
imagined is homogeneous with the intellect, but God is not homogeneous
with any _genus_, although in relation to the Eternal all phenomenal
objects—subtle and gross alike—are homogeneous with each other
notwithstanding their mutual contrariety. Therefore contemplation in
this world resembles vision of God in the next world, and since the
Companions of the Apostle (_aṣḥáb_) are unanimously agreed that vision
is possible hereafter, contemplation is possible here. Those who tell of
contemplation either in this or the other world only say that it is
possible, not that they have enjoyed or now enjoy it, because
contemplation is an attribute of the heart (_sirr_) and cannot be
expressed by the tongue except metaphorically. Hence silence ranks
higher than speech, for silence is a sign of contemplation
(_musháhadat_), whereas speech is a sign of ocular testimony
(_shahádat_). Accordingly the Apostle, when he attained proximity to
God, said: “I cannot tell Thy praise,” because he was in contemplation,
and contemplation in the degree of love is perfect unity (_yagánagí_),
and any outward expression in unity is other-ness (_bégánagí_). Then he
said: “Thou hast praised Thyself,” i.e. Thy words are mine, and Thy
praise is mine, and I do not deem my tongue capable of expressing what I
feel. As the poet says:
“_I desired my beloved, but when I saw him
I was dumbfounded and possessed neither tongue nor eye._”