When the Lamps on the Road Were Put Out

When the Lamps on the Road Were Put Out

Praise be to Allah. I was walking along a long road of light, and from afar I could hear voices hurling stones at the lamps. Every time one of them went out, I felt as though something in my heart had broken.

At first the stones came from a distance, from people who did not know this light. So I would seek forgiveness and walk on, with hope in my chest that the lamps would be lit again.

Then I saw people who loved the light, yet preferred the warmth of habit to the brilliance of the truth. I saw them adorning the road with what they had grown used to, not with what they had been commanded. So I wept, not for them, but for the road whose radiance had begun to fade.

Then I saw young men who had grown up in the shade of the scholars, drinking from their water, and then throwing dust upon them. I knew that this time the arrow had come from inside the wall.

Then I saw the shaykhs who had once walked together, each of whom had now become a road of his own, calling out to the other from afar, not to greet him, but to call him a liar and to attack him.

Then I saw their followers after them, feeding on attacks against others the way a thirsty man feeds on a mirage. I said to myself: the last of the lamps has been put out, and the road has been left in darkness, except for the one who is truthful with Allah in his innermost self.

And in the midst of this heavy night, they are still talking about victory and empowerment.

O Lord, if the travelers have lost their way in dispute, guide us to truthfulness, and leave us a candle that does not go out.