A Moslem seeker after God

by Samuel Marinus Zwemer

“True prayer,” he continues, “consists of six things: the presence of the heart, understanding, magnifying God, fear, hope, and a sense of shame.” He then treats successively these elements of true prayer, showing in what they consist, how they are occasioned and how they may be secured. We secure the presence of our hearts by a deep sense of the eternal. What he says in regard to God’s greatness may well be compared with such passages as the eighth Psalm, “What is man that Thou art mindful of him?” Our sense of shame is quickened, he says, by remembering our shortcomings in worship. The only way we can secure the presence of the heart in prayer is by drawing our thoughts away from outward diversions and from those within. We should not pray in the public streets, for there our mind is diverted. If we can pray towards a dead wall on which there is nothing to see it will be helpful. But the inward withdrawal of the heart is still more important.

What he says about the true kibla is also worth quoting. “It is the turning away of your outward gaze from everything save the direction of the holy house of God. Do you not then think that the turning aside of your heart from all other things to the consideration of God Most High is required of you? It certainly is. Nothing else is required of you in prayer than this, so that I would say the face of your heart must turn with the face of your body; and even as no one is able to face the house of God save by turning away from every other direction, so the heart does not truly turn towards God save by being separated from everything else than himself.”

“When you stand up to pray,” he says, “remember the day when you must stand before God’s throne and be judged. Be clear of hypocrisy in prayer. Do not follow those who profess to worship the face of God and at the same time seek the praise of men.... Flee from the devil, for he is as a devouring lion. How can any one who is pursued by a lion or an enemy who would devour him or kill him say, ‘I take refuge with God from them in this castle or in this fort,’ and still linger without entering the fort? Surely this will not profit him. The only way to secure protection is to change his place. In like manner whoever follows his lusts, which are the lurking place of Satan and the abomination of the Merciful, the mere saying, ‘I take refuge in God’ will not profit. Whosoever takes his passions for a God he is under the reign of the devil and not in the safe keeping of his Lord.”

He gives a long spiritual interpretation of the fatihah which is beautiful. “At the conclusion of your formal prayer,” he says, “offer your humble petitions and thanksgivings and expect an answer and join in your petition your parents and the rest of true believers. And when you give the final salaams remember the two angels who sit on your shoulders.”

In the giving of alms he says seven things are required: promptness, secrecy, example—(and in this connection he quotes a Tradition ascribed to the Prophet about the left hand not knowing what the right hand doeth)—absence of boasting or pride, the gift must not be spoken of as great, our best is demanded, for God is supremely good and He will only take the best, and we must give our alms to the right persons. Of these he mentions six classes: the pious, the learned, the righteous, the deserving poor, those in need because of sickness or family distress, and relatives. With him, charity ends at home.

A Mihrab or prayer-niche made of cedar wood and dating from the Eleventh Century. (Cairo Museum.)

It is clear, however, from Al-Ghazali’s teaching that only Moslems are intended in his classification of those who may receive the Zakat. There is no universal brotherhood in Islam. Jews and Christians are outside the pale, save as they have “the rights of neighbours.”

Christians might well regard Al-Ghazali’s mystical method of reading the Koran in their perusal of the Scriptures. He tells us we must regard eight things: the greatness of the revelation; the majesty of the Speaker; the need of a prepared heart; meditation; understanding the content of the passage, not twisting its meaning; we are to make the application to ourselves; and finally we must read it so that its effect may show in our lives. By the word Koran, he says, “we mean not the reading but the following of the teaching, for the movement of the tongue in pronouncing the words is of little value. The true reading is when the tongue and the mind and the heart are associated. The part of the tongue is to pronounce the words clearly in chanting. The part of the mind is to interpret the meaning. The part of the heart is to translate it into life. So that the tongue chants and the mind interprets and the heart is a preacher and a warner.”

The greatest chapter of his opus magnum is undoubtedly that on Repentance. It may well be compared with the fifty-first Psalm or the seventh chapter of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. That Al-Ghazali himself had a deep sense of sin, no one can doubt. He was not a Pharisee but an earnest seeker after God. He teaches clearly that all the prophets, including Mohammed, were sinners, although he nowhere mentions any sinfulness in Jesus Christ.