Banu Islam

“I am a Muslim. I exist only to serve Allah (swt) and His creation.”
On the whole, humanity is rather immature. We are born this way and it normally takes us at least two decades, if not more, to reach a level of cognitive and behavioral maturity that is acceptable to ourselves and society. This level of maturity is taught to us through many means, one of which is the institution of religion. Most religions, including Islam, seek to mature humanity. In Islam, we Muslims mature through our submission to Allah (swt) by conforming to His rules and legislation, which is presented to us in the form of shari'ah. The rules and legislation by which we mature aren't onerous, but they do take a significant level of discipline and determination in order to be carried out successfully and consistently.

This "discipline and determination" is known to us as jihad. It is the greater jihad, the jihad by which we seek to control and contain our nafs, our ego. Those of us who are parents (and I am the father to a five-year-old daughter) see the need to control the nafs daily through our children. "Abah, I want this! Ibu, I want that!" As children get older, their desires become more sophisticated, but their maturity levels also increase as well, insha'allah. People usually get to a point where their material needs are met, but their maturity levels have also plateaued.

The problem is that these maturity levels may or may not have reached their full potential. Have each of us met that full level of maturity? For example, consider three types of behavior: drinking alcohol, gambling and tattooing. All three behaviors are considered both legal (usually) and acceptable within modern non-Muslim society. But even while these behaviors may be acceptable in non-Muslim society, they are considered unacceptable among Muslims.

Engaging in these behaviors are signs of immaturity. An immature person wastes his or her money on alcoholic drinks that can cause numerous individual and societal problems (let alone being a poison to one's body). Through gambling, an immature person wastes his or her money in the unlikely possibility of winning a large payoff. Through tattooing, an immature person "decorates" his or her body with art that is often regretted (and sometimes removed) later in life. A Muslim avoids these immature behaviors altogether, thus bypassing the pain these behaviors may cause to themselves and to others.

Instead of engaging in immature behaviors, the Muslim engages in mature behaviors, especially that of salat (prayer), sawm (fasting), and zakat (and saudaqah, the giving of charity). Each of these behaviors are not only mandated as part of the Five Pillars of Islam, but are of supreme importance for increasing and maintaining the maturity level of Muslims individually and as a society. Salat is of primary importance. It not only restores our focus on Allah (swt) throughout the day, but also helps us to remember (through the various surahs we recite in the individual rakah) what we need to do for society as a whole.

Sawm is similar to salat except that, instead of being an intellectual reminder, sawm is visceral. We feel the hunger that the less-fortunate undergo so that we may acutely understand their needs and be motivated to help society. And, whereas salat and sawm are reminders for action, zakat and saudaqah are the actions themselves, the actual giving of charity to the poor, either directly to those in need, or indirectly, to agencies who will help us distribute the charity to others.

It should be noted that the giving of zakat and, especially, saudaqah goes not only to other Muslims in need, but also to non-Muslims as well. Muslims must act as khalifa, guardians of the community and the environment, to help in the process of maturing humanity, whether the individuals are Muslims or not. In that respect we try to be like the tide, lifting all boats together. We are lifting not only our community but that of the non-Muslim community as well.

Ideally, our goal should be to strive to bring everyone up to the minimum levels (myself included) that are expected of all Muslims in Islam. There are probably very few people who don't fail in one aspect of Islam or another. Are we only meeting what is expected of us with regard to the five pillars (especially that of salat, sawm, and zakat/saudaqah) but of the other aspects of a Muslim lifestyle as well? For example, do we behave with the proper adab? Do we eat halal food consistently, especially in those places where halal food and drink is not so easily available? Do we cover ourselves properly, both men and women, and lower our gaze appropriately, both men and women? Do we minimize our exposure to the negative aspects of our culture (especially as broadcast through the media and entertainment industries)? Do we minimize our exposure to the negative aspects of our economy, such as with regard to interest and casino capitalism as a whole? (I realize this last part is extremely difficult given the pervasiveness of the global interest-based economy. Still, does one try?) Islam addresses all of these issues and provides solutions for the maturation of humanity, but do we listen and implement these solutions into our lives?

Just as parents set limits on their children's behavior, Islam has set limits on our behaviors. Some, the immature, may whine and complain about those limits (with a few going into outright rebellion and/or apostasy because their egos cannot handle those limitations). However, the majority of us understand how we benefit from such self-restraint. One has only to look at the troubles plaguing the non-Muslim world, created by their indulgence in various vices, to see what we can and do avoid: the loss of wealth through gambling or the purchase of alcohol and/or drugs, the increased chance of illnesses through the consumption of alcohol, drugs or other haram products, the spread of sexually-transmitted diseases, especially through zina, the loss and heartbreak of families split apart after cases of adultery, and so on. Moreover, these limitations are lifelong. We do not "graduate" from the limitations once we reach a certain age. Most, if not all, of these limitations will remain with us until death.

What also makes matters difficult is that many of these limitations have little or no ability to be enforced externally; they must be enforced internally. For example, governments can and do enforce some Islamic limitations (even by secular governments) to one degree or another. The sale of alcohol might be restricted to certain hours or prohibited altogether; the sale of various drugs may be strictly regulated or prohibited, depending upon the substance, and so forth. But other Islamic limitations are not enforced by various governments except in certain select cases; for example, riba, zina and adultery. Thus, the individual is left to him- or herself to maintain the limitations. This is the reason for the greater jihad. Can we maintain our ability as individuals and as a society to reach our full potential?

I began to write this essay last December while vacationing in Japan and reading one of Frank Herbert's Dune novels. It is unfinished, from my perspective, and perhaps I will finish it in the future, insha'allah. A couple months ago, I came across another essay, Psychology, Islam & Self-Control, that says much of what I'm trying to say here. I recommend that you read that essay as well.

One Day in Ramadan

Earlier this month, I had been asked to provide an insider's perspective on Ramadan. That person had written:

I would like to know more about Ramadan ... I mean I could look it up in Wikipedia ... However, I would like to know not only about the event itself, but the event and the event [sic] from a more personal view.

This diary tries to present a small glimpse into the Ramadan experience.


4:30 a.m. - The alarm goes off to wake my wife and I up to start the new day. We eat some breakfast, take our respective sets of pills, then brush our teeth. The break of dawn doesn't begin until 5:45, but we stop all eating and drinking ten minutes earlier to make sure that, by 5:45, any remaining food or liquid in our mouths will have been swallowed.

This is my eleventh Ramadan; the first time I fasted for Ramadan was back in 2000. I had reverted to Islam only a few months earlier so, when I approached some friends at the mosque and asked them how I should prepare for fasting, they correctly advised me, "You don't." There is no correct way to prepare for fasting; you just plunge ahead and do it. The first four days of my fast were excruciatingly painful. My stomach had never gone through a full day without any food. On the fifth day, my stomach started to understand that there was not going to be any meals until supper, so the hunger pains began to let up. However, I still dealt with the issue of thirst, especially for the next nine days or so, when I ultimately discovered that the best thing to do was to keep my mouth shut, literally. Talk as little as possible (not always possible for a teacher), and breathe primarily through my nose. After that, fasting became easier. That first year, I lost a lot of weight, forcing me to buy a new, smaller belt during the middle of the month.

Fasting is about depriving one's self of some of the basic physiological necessities of life. But when one doesn't feel any hunger pangs or thirstiness during Ramadan, as I rarely do anymore, other issues come to the forefront. In recent years, I have begun to notice "themes" during Ramadan, spiritual lessons regarding different subjects that have tied into Ramadan. Ramadan is a time when there is an emphasis on feeling empathy for those who are less fortunate than ourselves. In the last few years I had had some relatively minor health issues to deal with during Ramadan (severe head aches toward the end of the day, and sticky mucus at the back of my sinuses that gave me some difficulty in breathing early in the morning). These discomforts have reminded me of those people who have little or no access to health care, something that perhaps some people take for granted, but an issue that can become the focal point of other people's lives. This year's theme has centered around family, as I suspected it would. With the sudden passing of my father-in-law earlier this year, my wife's family has worked to give more emotional support to some of the family members who have taken the loss of "Abah" the hardest.

One aspect about Ramadan that many non-Muslims don't grasp is the close connection there is between fasting and zakat, the giving of charity, which is another pillar of Islam. The two are closely connected in that both are about purification. Fasting helps to purify the body, while zakat helps to purify one's wealth. In Islam, income and wealth need to be "pure," meaning that the source or manner in which the wealth and income has been obtained must be halal. Muslims often work through moral quandaries in deciding whether to take certain jobs: Can she work as a cashier when the grocery store sells pork and alcohol? Can he work in a hotel that is attached to a casino? Can she become a teller at a bank that relies upon interest for its primary source of revenue? To help purify that money, Muslims donate some of their personal wealth each year to help the poor.* In Singapore, it is not uncommon to see people or even businesses donating food to the poor as part of their effort to give charity. (The most common food given away here is rice porridge with chicken; however, one year, I walked through a shopping center where a business was about to give out fried chickens to a long queue of people who were waiting to take some home for their dinner that night. That was one of the few times recently where I grew hungry during the day - the smell of all that chicken was very strong.)

In many countries with significant Muslim populations, the month of Ramadan has become commercialized although, at least here in Singapore, that degree of commercialization is nowhere near the level of the American Christmas season. Some countries increase the number of cooking shows and "crazy soap operas" on television (as an Internet friend living in the UAE put it). In Singapore, the commercial side of Ramadan means shopping in the Malay Village section of Geylang and Sims Roads. The difference between the Christmas and Ramadan shopping seasons, though, is that Muslim shoppers aren't necessarily looking for gifts to give. In Singapore, at least, gifts are only given to children during the Eid festivities, and the gifts are almost always some money. (I was shocked when, last year, my wife's grandmother gave me a gift of money for Eid; money, if it is given to adults, is almost always for older relatives, like parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents, who may be living on fixed incomes.) Instead, Muslim shoppers normally buy merchandise to prepare their families and their homes for Eid. Thus, apparel like color-coordinated Baju Melayus for men and Baju Kurungs for women, home furnishings (curtains, cushion covers, rugs, etc.), and all sorts of traditional cookies are some of the most popular items sold at the Ramadan markets.

But ultimately, Ramadan is a religious observance, in which mosques become a little more crowded for all of the prayers other than the Friday noon congregational prayer (which remains consistently full year-round). In Singapore, evening tarawih prayers are often conducted at housing block void decks because there is not enough space in the mosques to accommodate everyone who wishes to perform them. Religious talks are often given publicly, some of which are broadcast on television, as well as Qur'an recital competitions. The hope of every Muslim during Ramadan is that each of their daily fasts are accepted by Allah (swt), in addition to all of the good deeds that they may have performed.

7:12 p.m. - I had actually fallen asleep on the bed late in the afternoon when my wife rushed into the bedroom. "Wake up! The adhan is playing!" she said as she handed me a glass of Coke Zero (not the traditional drink to break one's fast with ;) ). I swallowed a little bit of the pop while giving a prayer of thanks for having made it through another day in Ramadan. A few minutes later, my wife and I ate our dinner for the evening.

* The percentage varies depending upon the type of asset that is "zakatable," but for most Muslims who live in cities, the percentage tends to be 2.5%. Also, various assets are subject to zakat, while others are not, such as family homes. The calculations to determine zakat can become rather complex, depending upon what the person owns. BTW, zakat is a wealth tax, not an income tax.

Update: I am pleased to say that this essay has received some recognition on a few major websites. On Street Prophets, where it was originally published, the essay was immediately promoted to the Front Page. On Daily Kos, the essay was one out of only seven diaries "rescued" by the DKos volunteers. (Rescued diaries, for those who don't know, are those diaries that did not make the "Recommended List" but are deemed an overlooked "must read" essay; at DKos, it's a very high honor to have one's diary rescued as it too is mentioned on the Front Page.)