Others say: “Inasmuch as audition is dangerous to the vulgar and their belief is disturbed by our taking part in it, and inasmuch as they are unable to attain to our degree therein and incur guilt through us, we have pity on the vulgar and give sincere advice to the elect and from altruistic motives decline to indulge in audition.” This is a laudable course of action.
Others say: “The Apostle has said, ‘It contributes to the excellence of a man’s Islam if he leaves alone that which does not concern him.’ Accordingly, we renounce audition as being unnecessary, for it is a waste of time to busy one’s self with irrelevant things, and time is precious between lovers and the Beloved.”
Others of the elect argue that audition is hearsay and its pleasure consists in gratification of a desire, and this is mere child’s play. What value has hearsay when one is face to face? The act of real worth is contemplation (of God).
Such, in brief, are the principles of audition.
Chapter on Wajd and Wujúd and Tawájud.
Wajd and wujúd are verbal nouns, the former meaning “grief” and the latter “finding”. These terms are used by Ṣúfís to denote two states which manifest themselves in audition: one state is connected with grief, and the other with gaining the object of desire. The real sense of “grief” is “loss of the Beloved and failure to gain the object of desire”, while the real sense of “finding” is “attainment of the desired object”. The difference between ḥazan (sorrow) and wajd is this, that the term ḥazan is applied to a selfish grief, whereas the term wajd is applied to grief for another in the way of love, albeit the relation of otherness belongs only to the seeker of God, for God Himself is never other than He is. It is impossible to explain the nature of wajd, because wajd is pain in actual vision, and pain (alam) cannot be described by pen (qalam). Wajd is a mystery between the seeker and the Sought, which only a revelation can expound. Nor is it possible to indicate the nature of wujúd, because wujúd is a thrill of emotion in contemplation of God, and emotion (ṭarab) cannot be reached by investigation (ṭalab). Wujúd is a grace bestowed by the Beloved on the lover, a grace of which no symbol can suggest the real nature. In my opinion, wajd is a painful affection of the heart, arising either from jest or earnest, either from sadness or gladness; and wujúd is the removal of a grief from the heart and the discovery of the object that was its cause. He who feels wajd is either agitated by ardent longing in the state of occultation (ḥijáb), or calmed by contemplation in the state of revelation (kashf). The Shaykhs hold different views on the question whether wajd or wujúd is more perfect. Some argue that, wujúd being characteristic of novices (murídán), and wajd of gnostics (`árifán), and gnostics being more exalted in degree than novices, it follows that wajd is higher and more perfect than wujúd; for (they say) everything that is capable of being found is apprehensible, and apprehensibility is characteristic of that which is homogeneous with something else: it involves finiteness, whereas God is infinite; therefore, what a man finds is naught but a feeling (mashrabí), but what he has not found, and in despair has ceased to seek, is the Truth of which the only finder is God. Some, again, declare that wajd is the glowing passion of novices, while wujúd is a gift bestowed on lovers, and, since lovers are more exalted than novices, quiet enjoyment of the gift must be more perfect than passionate seeking. This problem cannot be solved without a story, which I will now relate. One day Shiblí came in rapturous ecstasy to Junayd. Seeing that Junayd was sorrowful, he asked what ailed him. Junayd said, “He who seeks shall find.” Shiblí cried, “No; he who finds shall seek.” This anecdote has been discussed by the Shaykhs, because Junayd was referring to wajd and Shibli to wujúd. I think Junayd’s view is authoritative, for, when a man knows that his object of worship is not of the same genus as himself, his grief has no end. This topic has been handled in the present work. The Shaykhs agree that the power of knowledge should be greater than the power of wajd, since, if wajd be more powerful, the person affected by it is in a dangerous position, whereas one in whom knowledge preponderates is secure. It behoves the seeker in all circumstances to be a follower of knowledge and of the religious law, for when he is overcome by wajd he is deprived of discrimination (khiṭáb), and is not liable to recompense for good actions or punishment for evil, and is exempt from honour and disgrace alike: therefore he is in the predicament of madmen, not in that of the saints and favourites of God. A person in whom knowledge (`ilm) preponderates over feeling (ḥál) remains in the bosom of the Divine commands and prohibitions, and is always praised and rewarded in the palace of glory; but a person in whom feeling preponderates over knowledge is outside of the ordinances, and dwells, having lost the faculty of discrimination, in his own imperfection. This is precisely the meaning of Junayd’s words. There are two ways: one of knowledge and one of action. Action without knowledge, although it may be good, is ignorant and imperfect, but knowledge, even if it be unaccompanied by action, is glorious and noble. Hence Abú Yazíd said, “The unbelief of the magnanimous is nobler than the Islam of the covetous;” and Junayd said, “Shiblí is intoxicated; if he became sober he would be an Imám from whom people would benefit.” It is a well-known story that Junayd and Muḥammad[[200]] b. Masrúq and Abu ´l-`Abbás b. `Aṭá were together, and the singer (qawwál) was chanting a verse. Junayd remained calm while his two friends fell into a forced ecstasy (tawájud), and on their asking him why he did not participate in the audition (samá`) he recited the word of God: “Thou shall think them (the mountains) motionless, but they shall pass like the clouds” (Kor. xxvii, 90). Tawájud is “taking pains to produce wajd”, by representing to one’s mind, for example, the bounties and evidences of God, and thinking of union (ittiṣál) and wishing for the practices of holy men. Some do this tawájud in a formal manner, and imitate them by outward motions and methodical dancing and grace of gesture: such tawájud is absolutely unlawful. Others do it in a spiritual manner, with the desire of attaining to their condition and degree. The Apostle said, “He who makes himself like unto a people is one of them,” and he said, “When ye recite the Koran, weep, or if ye weep not, then endeavour to weep.” This tradition proclaims that tawájud is permissible. Hence that spiritual director said: “I will go a thousand leagues in falsehood, that one step of the journey may be true.”
Chapter on Dancing, etc.
You must know that dancing (raqṣ) has no foundation either in the religious law (of Islam) or in the path (of Ṣúfiism), because all reasonable men agree that it is a diversion when it is in earnest, and an impropriety (laghwí) when it is in jest. None of the Shaykhs has commended it or exceeded due bounds therein, and all the traditions cited in its favour by anthropomorphists (ahl-i ḥashw) are worthless. But since ecstatic movements and the practices of those who endeavour to induce ecstasy (ahl-i tawájud) resemble it, some frivolous imitators have indulged in it immoderately and have made it a religion. I have met with a number of common people who adopted Ṣúfiism in the belief that it is this (dancing) and nothing more. Others have condemned it altogether. In short, all foot-play (páy-bází) is bad in law and reason, by whomsoever it is practised, and the best of mankind cannot possibly practise it; but when the heart throbs with exhilaration and rapture becomes intense and the agitation of ecstasy is manifested and conventional forms are gone, that agitation (iḍtiráb) is neither dancing nor foot-play nor bodily indulgence, but a dissolution of the soul. Those who call it “dancing” are utterly wrong. It is a state that cannot be explained in words: “without experience no knowledge.”
Looking at youths (aḥdáth). Looking at youths and associating with them are forbidden practices, and anyone who declares this to be allowable is an unbeliever. The traditions brought forward in this matter are vain and foolish. I have seen ignorant persons who suspected the Ṣúfís of the crime in question and regarded them with abhorrence, and I observed that some have made it a religious rule (madhhabí). All the Ṣúfí Shaykhs, however, have recognized the wickedness of such practices, which the adherents of incarnation (ḥulúliyán)—may God curse them!—have left as a stigma on the saints of God and the aspirants to Ṣúfiism. But God knows best what is the truth.