By Moin Qazi, New Age Islam
08 June 2018
O you who
believe! Fasting is prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before
you, that you may attain Taqwa [God-consciousness]
– (The
Qur’an, Al-Baqarah: 183)
Religious fasting traditions- from Ramadan
to Ekadasi to Yom Kippur and Lent -are meant to relieve believers from many
avoidable mundane compulsions, helping them replenish their spirituality,
remember the poor, give up bad habits, make amends for moral deficiencies and
get closer to their faith. The most prominent among these spiritual fasting
customs is Ramadan. Islam does not have a tradition of monasticism. Instead
observant Muslims become ascetics during Ramadan every year. For them it is a
month of sacred abstemiousness.
Fasting (“Sumoo”, derived from the
Arabic root of “Saama” and Syriac, “Sawma.”) means “to refrain” -
and not only is it abstaining from eating, drinking , smoking and sex , but all
forms of immoral actions including talking about others behind their backs, or
indulging in impure or unkind thoughts. Like prayers, fasting is an essentially
solitary act; it represents a personal relationship each one of us has with
God. When fasting, Muslims have one meal before sunrise, called Sahur-the
pre-dawn meal -together, and share another meal with friends and family after
sunset, called Iftar-the fast breaking meal. The fast is actually much longer
than what everyone perceives .It actually commences at the first ray of dawn,
or, as it is said in the Qur’an, “when the white thread of day becomes distinct
from the blackness of night. The simultaneity of all these Muslim rituals is
Islam’s way of fostering fellowship and a powerful sense of solidarity.
Fasting during Ramadan is obligatory for
all able-bodied Muslims from when they reach the age of religious observance.
Those exempt from fasting are those who are sick, the elderly, those suffering
from a mental illness, those who are travelling long distance and women who are
pregnant, breastfeeding or menstruating. However, the exemption has a caveat
that those who skip the fast have to make up for the lost equivalent days after
Ramadan. But if a person is not able to fast at all – particularly if that is
for health reasons – can compensate and partake of the holy month’s blessings
by feeding a needy person for each day they do not fast (Fidiya, or
“expiation”).
Ramadan is a commemoration of the descent
of the word of God, the Qur’an, from heaven to the earth. Just as the word of
God has come down, in Ramadan the word of supplicants goes up to God, more
vigorously and efficaciously than at any other time.
The most significant hallmark of the month
of Ramadan is the Night of Destiny, Night of Measure or Night of Value: Lailat
al Qadr, in Arabic. According to the Qur’an, angels descend from heaven on
this special night, -most important, the archangel Gabriel — bringing peace and
divine presence into the world. Prophet Muhammad did not mention exactly when
the Night of Power would be, although most scholars believe it falls on one of
the odd-numbered nights of the final ten days of Ramadan
The Qur’an says:
“The Night of
Power is better than a thousand months.
Therein come
down the angels and the Spirit by Allah’s permission, on every errand:
Peace... This
until the rise of morn! “(Q97)
Better than thousand months. A thousand
months are equivalent to 83 years and 4 months. The importance of this night is
also mentioned in Hadith, which are the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad as remembered
by his companions:
“Whoever
establishes the prayers on the night of Qadr out of sincere faith and hoping to
attain Allah’s rewards (not to show off) then all his past sins will be
forgiven.” (Sahih Bukhari Vol 1, Book 2:34).
Ramadan is always a very amazing month .We
undertake a month long spiritual odyssey that is meant to rejuvenate us both
physically and morally. It enables us to detach from worldly pleasures to
invest our time in intense prayer, charity and spiritual discipline and focus
on our deeds, thoughts and actions. Every Ramadan, we undergo illuminating and
enriching experiences that provide valuable lessons in understanding life and
ourselves better. The extremity of the test reminds us of the fragility of
human life and is meant to foster a relationship with God.
I remember the early years of fasting when
my mother would tell stories about Ramadan when she was little and growing
up--how the table at sunset would be full of delicacies; how she and her
siblings would hold handfuls of food in front of their mouths, waiting for the
cue from my grandfather to eat. At the end of the month of fasting, he would
sacrifice a lamb, in the name of God, and feed it to the poor.
The first time I fasted was when I was
attending school away from home. Marching up to the man in charge of the
cafeteria, I fully expected to be rebuffed when I asked for food to take back
to my dorm for a predawn breakfast. But he just looked me in the eyes and asked
what I would like to eat. Had I not been so stunned by his acceptance, I might
have asked for a table full of treats. I fortified myself by hearty food and
sealed the fast with a full glass of fruit juice .the fast seemed interminable
and intolerable because, as every Muslim would confess, no matter how much food
or water or juice you pour into yourself at dawn, it is enough to drown the
body’s yearnings until sunset.
Later that night, nibbling on the meat
sandwich, I realized, ''I'm fasting for Ramadan!'' For the first time, I was
doing something that wasn't primarily for myself or for parents or for good
grades. By fasting, I was doing something for God- that which would bring me
closer to the creator and sustainer of all existence .it is said that it’s the
only Islamic practice that’s invisible to an observer.
Later in college, on Saturday nights, other
Muslim students and I would take the college van to a pancake house at 4 a.m. I
told my non-Muslim friends, who always accompanied me to dinner in the dining
hall at sunset, how the entire holy month of Ramadan was about feeling
spiritually charged and elevated despite the hunger and deprivation.
The fasting ritual is an eagerly awaited
interlude for utilizing the abstinence from food, drink and other indulgences
to concentrate on prayer, meditation and worship. This, in turn, encourages
greater reflection on one’s life and appreciation for resources we sometimes
take for granted. It teaches us about patience, self-restraint, spirituality,
humility and submissiveness to God.
The act of fasting for spiritual prowess
makes us more conscious, not just of food habits but of how we think, behaves
and interacts throughout the day. Fasting does not mean Muslims retreat from
their daily chores; rather they are encouraged to continue their normal
routine. This is the real challenge, and fasting helps us hone our patience and
endurance because, by refraining from consumption throughout the day, we learn
the benefit of refraining from gratifying each of our desires in the moment.
Each fasting day during Ramadan is trial on
the body and our spiritual resolve. Removing the regular comforts from daily
routine is intended to focus the mind on spirituality, prayer and charity. By
fasting, we cut ourselves off from the temptations and distractions of our
busy, hectic, materialistic lives and try attaining “Taqwa", or
“piety” or “God-consciousness". With a decaffeinated, empty stomach, and a
thirst that is difficult to tolerate, this act of fasting connects us to
someone else.
Tending to the welfare of the less
fortunate members of the community is a central tenet of Islam and a very
important tradition during Ramadan., On several occasions, I have read that
when we are handing someone charity, it first passes through the Hand of God
before it reaches the recipient's hand. I always imagine that when I give, it
helps me do it with greater humility. Holding wealth is truly an immense
blessing that comes with great responsibility and untold reward when we pass it
along. All good deeds done in Ramadan fetch manifold rewards in the afterlife. Thus,
apart from being a personal religious voyage, the season of sharing and giving
reconfigures one’s social bonds.
Our fasting draws us to the story of a
woman in Somalia who has been walking for miles to reach and fetch firewood and
water; successive droughts have ravaged her land, her body, and her children.
The baby she is carrying no longer gets milk from her breast; she feels him
shrinking in her arms as she walks. The little hands of her other small
children clutch at her as they patiently trail her. The mother keeps repeatedly
telling them that they must put their trust in God and keep moving. One can
understand her thirst as she utters words of prayer with every precious drop of
water she goes without to give to her children for their survival.
Our act of fasting brings empathy for her
that is greater than any ordinary day. I remember her when my head would go
dizzy with thirst after running out on a simple errand in triple-digit heat. I
can step back into my air-conditioned refuge; she can't. I won't complain of my
exhaustion from too little sleep because I know she won't find a sheltering
place to rest in the harsh landscape. I'm hungry, but I can break my fast in a
celebratory mood when the day is finished; I'll take a cooling sip of clean,
filtered water and literally feel it splash down in my empty gut at sundown. As
I feel my body reviving, I remember the Somali woman's fast has been going on
since well-before Ramadan, and it will continue past the 30 days which Muslims
will observe. It is her way of life for years on end .For her
"fasting" is not a choice, for her hunger is part of daily life.
As we slice up exotic fruits to refresh our
families after fasting, we keep seeing this poor woman. How can we set a table
with melons, dates, rice, other lavish goodies and dollops of dainty creams
when she has none? How can we keep stocking up on provisions featuring a
variety of exquisite tasty food, such as sweetmeats, spices, savouries and
sugary drinks, with which to break our daily fasts, without thinking of the
woman's broken heart when she has to tell her children she has nothing for
them; the crops failed, the livestock died, and food prices have risen so high
.She has no way to feed them. The suffering of these unlucky ones reminds us to
be grateful for our fortunes.
At times we don't realize how hard and
coarse our hearts have become. The absence of regular and consistent times for
self-reflection and contemplation has made us insensitive to the suffering
around us. The pursuit of complacency has become our goal rather than the
pursuit of contentment and we sacrifice things that would bring us everlasting
comfort in pursuit of those things that simply give us the facade of comfort.
The empathy for the suffering of those less fortunate people around us, created
by the act of fasting, is only worth something to them -- and to us -- if we do
something about it.
The emphasis on enduring the fast
stimulates us to move beyond simply the physical aspects of it and reach out in
the direction of a spiritual fast. It’s not about mortification of the
flesh. It’s about refraining from
complaining, a fast from thinking ill of others, a fast from coarse language
and harsh speech, a fast that's focus is not on food or drink, but how the
absence of those things leads towards the development of a strong heart and
soul. That's the fast that we should strive for - one that moves beyond not
feeding our bodies but feeding our souls. The essence of Ramadan is to become
humble, simple and free from ill-will, anger, meanness and hate. It is a
one-month refresher course from which we can emerge as the greatest version of
ourselves. It is a month of penance, peace, forgiveness atonement and
reconciliation.
I pray that Ramadan gets into our hearts
and minds and makes us embrace all shades of mankind with dignity, respect and
care acknowledging the diverse swath of traditions and cultures.
The greatest lesson every Ramadan teaches
me is indeed the wisdom expressed in Qur’an, Al-Hujurat:
“O mankind!
We have created you male and female, and have made you nations and tribes that
ye may know one another. The noblest of you, in sight of God, is the best in
conduct. God Knows and is Aware of everything you do.”(Q49:13)
Ramadan Kareem! Ramadan Mubarak!
Moin Qazi is the author of the bestselling book, Village Diary of a
Heretic Banker .He has worked in the development finance sector for almost four
decades.
6:02 PM
Moderate Islamist here
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