Arrival and Spiritual Abuse
Today is the day on which I am observing
the anniversary of the passing away of my
first - and to date - only authentic shaykh.
I thought that one way in which I might mark
this occasion is to offer something which I believe
to be reflective of, and in resonance with,
my shaykh's spiritual demeanor - although,
naturally, any mistakes contained herein are
mine and should not be attributable to the
influence which my shaykh had, by the Grace
of Allah, on my life.
-------------
There was a posting in another Internet group
which someone showed me recently. The
person who responded to the posting asked
me both about the issue as well as how the
issue might fit in with the problem of spiritual
abuse.
The posting in question advanced the idea that
all Sufis ought to ask themselves a thousand
times a day whether or not they have arrived.
This idea reminds me of what a shaykh is reported
to have replied when asked what he thought
about Yezid - namely, "I am so busy singing
the praises of Hussein (may Allah be pleased
with him) that I have no time for Yezid."
People who are concerned about spiritual
arrival are, I feel, concerned about something
other than God. I do understand there may be
a point to asking the question about arrival (for
example, as an exercise in humility which serves
to remind us that if we have not “arrived”, then,
perhaps, one should be more tolerant toward, and
willing to consider - with an absence of dogmatism
and impatience - perspectives different from one’s
own). Nonetheless, this purpose - as well-intentioned
as it may be with respect to asking oneself (sincerely
and not as a spiritual posture) where one stands in
relation to Truth or Reality - is asked from the perspective
of Ghayr or otherness ... it is like the seeker who is
rebuffed from gaining access to the inner sanctum of truth
so long as he or she continues to respond with: "It is I" -
rather than with: "it is Thou" - when, upon knocking at
the door of Truth, one is asked 'who is there?'
From another perspective, the idea of arrival may
be somewhat misleading - at least, in the sense of
a all-or-none phenomenon - because, in a certain sense,
arrival is, I believe, an on-going part of suluk or spiritual
travel. God willing, at different junctures, one arrives at:
tauba (repentance), sabr (patience), shukr (gratitude), iklas
(sincerity), ihsan (spiritual excellence), taqwa (piety),
or ishq (intense love), and the arrivals continue ad
infinitum because neither Divinity nor our essential
capacity to be opened up to Divine disclosures ever
ends. Indeed, one of the meanings of bewilderment on
the Sufi Path refers, I believe, to God's ability to
disclose things faster than our capacity to understand.
There is an implication associated
with the term "arrival" which suggests
there is a 'point' or 'place' or 'juncture'
at which one finally comes to understand and
know everything .. which is not possible -
and this is so, I feel, for several reasons.
First, the very nature of Divinity is to be
Beyond and Beyond the Beyond, and Beyond
the Beyond of the Beyond of any horizon -
conceptual, physical or spiritual - one cares
to artificially construct.
Dhat is: beyond, unfathomable, impenetrable,
unknowable, inexhaustible, and infinite in
ways beyond the imaginings of a Georg Cantor
or David Hilbert. There is no arrival here
except - as Hazrat Abu Bakr Siddiq (may Allah
be pleased with him) has indicated - to come
to the realization of our own inability to know
Divinity in any sense of definitiveness.
We can only know - God willing - what our
God-given fixed form has the capacity to know.
We can come to know who and what we are.
Although I disagree with Kant that our
modes of knowledge are set by the forms
of sensory and temporal perception
which we have been bequeathed, I do
believe that our modes of knowledge are
fixed by the modalities of understanding
which are part of our indigenous, spiritual
natures as created beings. This includes the
heart, sirr, spirit, kafi, and aqfah - all of which
are different forms of instruments for realizing the
knowledge and understanding of Self which
is possible for humankind.
Just as there are said to be different
orders of mathematical infinity (say,
the difference between natural and real
numbers), so, too there are different
orders of infinity - some having to do
with creation and some having to do with
the Creator, and the former are encompassed
by the latter, just as the natural numbers
are encompassed by real numbers, although
the latter cannot be reduced to the former.
There are some who say that conditions such
as fana and baqa constitute forms of arriving
which transcend the process of suluk. I
believe such discussions involve a mis-
understanding of the human-Divine relationship.
We can only ever understand - according to
our capacity and as God permits - the Ocean
of who we are in essence. And, although, in
essence, we are Divine, we are not Divinity
in Essence.
This Ocean - as Hazrat ibn al-'Arabi (may
Allah be pleased with him) pointed out - is
an Ocean without shores. There can be no
arrival at such an Ocean for, in truth, we
are already there, and our spiritual or
life journey is but a way of discovering
different facets and dimensions of that
Ocean. There are only greater and lesser
understandings of this reality.
The foregoing is prelude to the following.
Spiritual abuse - whatever the particulars
of its manifestation in a given context -
is always a matter of the way in which
someone who claims to be a teacher - or
who claims to ‘Know’ - and who has
invited us to have trust in that person's
status as an authentic spiritual guide or
‘knower’, nonetheless, proceeds to serve as
one who commits kufr, if not shirk, with
respect to the truth ... that is, behaves
as someone who obfuscates the truth or
seeks to offer something as true which is
other than the truth and does so knowing
that he or she either does not have the
requisite insight into essential truth,
and/or has not been authorized to perform
the functions of a locus of manifestation
for such authenticity.
It is possible, in ignorance, to talk
about issues such as arrival, and even
to do so in an opinionated way, without
being spiritually abusive - not all breeches
of adab are necessarily a function of spiritual
abuse. Moreover, it is possible to talk about
issues such as arrival and be incorrect in what
one says without necessarily being spiritually
abusive. Furthermore, it is possible, without
being spiritually abusive, to be well-intentioned and
offer inappropriate advice in conjunction with issues
such as arrival despite the fact one's understanding
regarding these matters is faulty or problematic.
Spiritual abuse creeps into the conversation
when someone purports to know the truth of
things but does not, and, yet, fails to offer,
or couch, pronouncements concerning, say, arrival
within a context of tentativeness, caution, opinion,
possibility, or belief, but, rather, camouflages such
ideas in the garments of authority, certainty, and
intolerance. In this sense, someone who claims to be
a shaykh, but isn't, commits spiritual abuse no
matter what they say because they do so under
the pretext of being something they are not and,
as well, under the pretext of being authorized to
say such things when such is not the case.
However, someone who speaks as an imam, theologian,
mullah, qadi, scholar, parent, or regular teacher - and
presents herself or himself as someone who has insight
into the truth, but who does not (as measured by Haq
Itself), then, such a person is also committing spiritual
abuse. Anyone who insists that the Prophet Muhammad
(peace be upon him) means this or that, or that the
Qur'an means this or that and seeks, in the process, to
convince others there are no other possible alternative
understandings which are to be permitted also, in my
opinion, commits spiritual abuse.
Spiritual abuse is just terrorism in a different guise
- and instead of blowing up innocent people, one destroys
(or seeks to) spiritual lives through ill-considered
words, ideas, and actions. Indeed, spiritual abuse, in
one form or another, is the breeding ground of all forms
of terrorism - from that of state-sponsored terrorism, to
individual acts of barbarity which seem to be in denial
with respect to the Quranic injunction that 'there can
be no compulsion in matters of Deen'.
There can be no physical compulsion. There can be no
emotional compulsion. There can be no social compulsion.
There can be no spiritual compulsion. There can be
no political compulsion. There can be no economic
compulsion. There can be no educational compulsion.
There can be no familial compulsion ... but I won't
compel you to accept the foregoing.
For those who argue that if there can be no compulsion,
then, how is society or family life possible, the Qur’an
offers, among other possibilities, the following for
reflection: “To everyone, We have appointed a law
and a way.” [Qur'an 5:48]
Shari’ah and “a way” are not necessarily the same
thing - although they are, likely, both complementary
and illuminating with respect to one another. Or,
alternatively, a law and a way may be different
manifestations of a deeper, underlying Reality. Or,
perhaps, ‘a way’ provides the sort of spiritual
compass and map which is needed to find one’s
way through the landscape of Shari’ah.
There are spiritually abusive ways to chart one’s
course through Shari’ah, and, there are non-
spiritually abusive ways to do so. There is the
hadith which gives expression to the incident
about the man who came to the Prophet and
confessed that he had, intentionally and
illicitly, broken the fast of Ramadan. The
man was asking how to go about making
amends for this breech of Shari’ah.
The Prophet indicated several solutions to
the man’s problem. First, the man could
fast for two consecutive months. But, the
man said that since he could not even fast
one month without faltering, how was he
supposed to accomplish two such months.
The Prophet further indicated that the
individual could feed so many poor
people. The man replied that he had no
money or provisions through which he
could feed the poor.
The Prophet had foodstuffs brought, and
he gave them to the man, instructing him
to distribute the goods to the poor people
of the region. The Prophet informed the
man that in this way the latter could expiate
his sin of having broken the fast.
The man said that in the whole area, there was
no one who was poorer than he and his family.
The Prophet told the individual, in the light of
what the man had disclosed, the person should
take the foodstuff home, feed his family, and
that would be his atonement for his sin.
The Prophet dealt with Shari’ah through a
beautiful way. There are ways, and, then,
there are ways (such as in relation to the
Taliban and the Wahhabis) for engaging the
Shari’ah ... not all ways are equal. Some
of these ways are spiritually abusive, and
some of these ways permit the very best
of humanity to surface.
Iblis is the father of all spiritual abusers. For,
just as the cardinal sin which Iblis committed
was the act which preceded his failure to bow
when commanded to do so - that is, his rebellion
against the truth (the truth about Divinity, the
truth about man, the truth about Iblis), so, too,
the cardinal sin which all spiritually abusive
people commit is to rebel against both truth
as well as the search for truth, and, in the process,
seek to mislead, exploit, manipulate, or damage
other people through such rebellion.
Spiritual abuse is the process of seeking to
convince others that one has arrived at the
truth when, in point of fact, one is actually,
busily attempting to undermine the truth, or
one is seeking to proceed at some acute or
oblique angle in departure from the truth.
While one can arrive, all too easily, at
the doorstep of falsehood, a spiritual abuser
is one who - lacking humility, perspective,
and understanding - wishes to leverage
such pseudo-arrival by exploiting the inherent
vulnerability of people with respect to
matters of trust and knowledge and, through
misdirection, give the illusion of truth
in the form of falsehood.
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