Islamic Responses: The Teachings of Hazrat Rabi'a al-Adawiyya

The Teachings of Hazrat Rabi’a al-Adawiyya

May God steal from you

All that steals you from Him

-Rabia

(1)

On the night Rabi’a was born, there was no cloth to wrap her in, and no oil for the lamps. Her mother asked her father to borrow oil from a neighbor, but he refused because he was under a vow never to ask for anything from anyone but God.

Then he fell asleep, and the Prophet Muhammad appeared to him in a dream: “Don’t worry,” he said, “the daughter just born to you will be a great saint; 70,000 of my followers will venerate her. Tomorrow you are to write a letter to the Amir, reminding him that he is in the habit of praying to me a hundred prayers every night, and four hundred on Friday. Say that since he missed last Friday, he has to make up for it by giving you four hundred Dinars.”

Rabi’a’s father wrote and sent the letter – and when the Amir received it he gave this command:”Give two thousand dinars to the sage who has written this, telling him that I would willingly grant him an audience, except that it would be an insult to him: I’ll travel to his house instead, and rub my beard on his threshold.”

And the father named his daughter “Rabi’a,” which means “the fourth.”

(2)

After death and poverty had scattered Rabi’a’s family, she was approached by a slave-trader; she tried to run, but slipped and sprained her wrist. When she knew her freedom was lost, she cried: “O God! I am an orphan, and am about to be a slave – on top of that, my wrist is broken. But that’s not what I care about; the thing I have to know is: are you satisfied with me?”

Immediately a Voice answered her: “Don’t worry – on the Day of Resurrection your rank will be so high that even the closest companions of God will envy you.”

Then Rabi’a submitted to the Will of God, and became a slave.

(3)

In her life as a slave, Rabi’a found time for her worship of God by doing without sleep. She fasted and prayed. One night her master awoke, looked down from the window of his house into the courtyard, and saw Rabi’a in prayer. As he was watching her he was amazed to see a lamp appear above her head, suspended in mid-air; the light from this miraculous map lit up the whole house. Terrified and astonished, he went back to bed, and sat wondering until dawn.

Then he called Rabi’a to him, confessed what he had seen, and gave her her freedom, with the option of staying with him if she wanted to. She asked permission to leave and it was granted; so she went out of the house, and out of that city, and into the desert to pray.

(4)

On pilgrimage to Mecca, Rabi’a went into the desert leading as ass to carry her baggage; but the ass died. Others in the caravan offered to help her but she refused; instead she prayed to God, “Is this how the great King treats a weak, helpless woman he has invited to visit his House?” Immediately the ass came back to life, stood up, and Rabi’a continued on her journey.

(5)

It took Ibrahim Ibn Adham fourteen years to reach the Kaaba in pilgrimage, because he said long prayers at every shrine along the way – but when he got there, there was no Kaaba to be seen. “What is this?” he asked to himself. “Have I gone blind?”

“No,” a Voice said, “you can’t see the Kaaba because it was gone out to meet a woman.” Burning with jealousy, Ibrahim ran toward the outskirts of Mecca till he ran into Rabi’a, who was just arriving. He turned around, and saw the Kaaba back in its usual place. Then he turned to Rabi’a.

What’s this craziness you’ve brought into the world woman?” he demanded.

“It’s not I who am the author of craziness,” she replied, “but you. You were crazy enough to take fourteen years to the Kaaba with your ritual prayer, while I, with my inner prayer, am here already.”

(6)

Once upon a time several different men wanted to marry Rabi’a, including Abd al-Wahid Ibn Zayd, Hasan of Basra, the Amir of Basra himself, and even the provincial governor. This was her answer to the Amir:

“I’m not interested, really, in ‘possessing all you own,’

Nor in ‘making you my slave,’

Nor in having my attention distracted from

God even for a split second.”

And she told the governor:

“Control yourself: Don’t let others control you.

Instead, better share your inheritance with them,

And suffer like they do the common suffering of the time.

As for you: Remember the day of your death.

As for me: Whatever bride-price you come up with,

Understand that the Lord I worship can double it.

“Do goodbye.”

(7)

Once upon a time Rabi’a fasted, prayed and stayed awake for seven days and nights. Then somebody brought her a bowl of food. Rabi’a accepted it, and went to find a lamp – but when she came back with the lamp she saw that a cat had knocked over the bowl. “So I’ll drink water instead,” she said to herself, and went to find the water-jug – but by the time she came back with it, the lamp had gone out. “Then I’ll drink my water in the dark,” she said – but then, without warning, the jug fell out of her hands, and broke into a thousand pieces. At that point she cried out, loud, loud, almost loud enough to set the whole house on fire. “God! God!” she cried, “What are You trying to do to me?”

“Be careful,” A Voice answered. “If you really want me to, I’ll fill your heart with all the pleasures of This World, and empty it of all your care for Me. You want something and I want something, and these desires cannot be mixed.”

After this, Rabi’a gave up all worldly hope.

Versions of Rabi’a

I am fully qualified to work as a doorkeeper, and for this reason:

What is inside me, I don’t let out:

What is outside me, I don’t let in.

If someone comes in, he goes right out again –

He has nothing to do with me at all.

I am a Doorkeeper of the Heart, not a lump of wet clay.

Serving-girl:

“It’s Spring, Rabi’a –

Why not come outside,

And look at all the beauty God has made!”

Rabi’a:

“Why not come inside instead, serving-girl

And see the One who made it all –

Naked, without veil.”

My cup, my wine and my companion make three,

And I, who long for the beloved, am Rabi’a, the fourth,

The cup of joy and felicity is passed around,

Again and again by the bearer of the wine.

If I look, I am seen only by Him,

And if I am present, I am seen only with Him.

O, you who rebuke me – I love His beauty!

By God, my ear does not heed your reproach!

How many nights, burning with the ardor of my affection,

Have fountainheads streamed from my weeping eyes?

My tears do not dry, nor does my union with Him

Endure, nor can my swollen eyes rest peacefully.

I set up house for You in my heart

As a Friend that I could talk with.

I gave my body to someone else

Who wanted to embrace it.

This body, all in all, is good enough for embracing –

But the Friend who lives in my house

Is the lover of my Heart.

Where did you come from?

From There.

Where are you going to?

To There!

What are you doing Here?

I am grieving.

How so?

I am eating This bread

While doing That work!

I have two ways of loving You:

A selfish one

And another way is that is worthy of You.

In my selfish love, I remember You and You alone.

In that other love, You lift the veil

And let me feast my eyes on Your Living Face.

That I remember You always, or that I see You face-to-face –

No credit to me in either:

The credit is to You in both.

If you hadn’t singled me out to suffer your love,

I never would’ve brought you

All these lovers –

(Lord! Remember!)

If all the tortures of all the circles of Hell

Were put into one needle;

And if my right eye were lined with many such needles, all stuck in a row;

If my left eye were twitched only once, and disturbed my prayer –

I would tear it out of its socket.

My peace, brothers, is in my aloneness

Because my Beloved is alone with me there – always.

I’ve found nothing to equal His love,

That Love which harrows the sands of my desert.

If I die of desire, and He is still unsatisfied –

That sorrow has no end.

To abandon all He has made

To hold in my hand

Proof that He loves me –

This is the name of my quest.

O God,

You know that the only thing I want in this life

Is to be obedient to Your command.

Even the living sight of my eyes

Is service at Your court.

I would never stop serving You, even for a single moment –

If it were up to me.

But You put me under the power of one of Your creatures – a man.

This is why I come to Your service late.

Marriage has to do with being –

But where can this being be found?

I should belong to you? What makes you think

I even belong to myself?

I am His – His!

God:

“So you call my Name – what are you asking for, really?

If it’s Myself you want,

I’ll open to you one spark of my Glory

And burn you out of existence.”

Rabi’a:

“O Lord, I don’t begin to have the power

To come that close to You –

So maybe You will give me

Just one grain of poverty instead?”

God:

“Poverty is the drought of My anger

Which I’ve placed on the human road.

When nothing is left between them and Me

But the width of a hair,

Then the hope of Union

Turns into the reality of Separation.

You are still hidden from Me

Under the seventy veils – strip them off!

What can you say, or know, about Poverty

Until that Day?”

O God, take away the words of the devil

That mix with my prayer –

If not, then take my prayer as it is, devil and all.

O Children of Nothing!

Truth can’t come in through your eyes,

Nor can speech go out through your mouth to find Him;

Hearing leads the speaker down the road to anxiety,

And if you follow your hands and feet you will arrive at confusion –

The real work is in the Heart:

Wake up your Heart! Because when the Heart is completely awake,

Then it needs no Friend.

The true Knower looks for a Heart that comes from God alone.

As soon as it is given to him, he gives it back again

So that God can hold it hidden in His Mystery,

Safe from the tampering of human hands.

Burn like wax, and give light.

Stitch like a needle, and look barren.

Last of all, become thin as a hair

So your work will not be wasted.

God doesn’t make even those who curse Him destitute –

Then why doesn’t He provide for all the needs

Of someone whose soul is burning with love for Him?

Ever since I knew Him, I’ve turned my back on all He has made –

How then can I accept a gift of stolen goods?

One time I used the Sultan’s lamp to patch a blouse –

But my heart closed up like a fist until I had undone every stitch.

I spun some yarn to sell for food

And sold it for two silver coins.

I put a coin in each hand

Because I was afraid

That if I put both together in one hand

This great pile of wealth might hold me back.

One day Rabi’a needed a piece of cloth,

So she gave a man three silver coins to buy one.

After he’d already started on his way, he turned back.

“My Lady,” he said, “I forgot to ask:

What color do you want?”

“So it’s become a question of color, has it?” she replied.

“Give me back my money!”

And she threw it into the Tigris River.

One day Hasan of Basra saw Rabi’a does by the riverside. He came up to her, spread his prayer-rug on the surface of the water, and said: “Come sit with me and pray.”

“Do you really have t sell yourself in the market of this world to the consumers of the next?” said Rabi’a. Then she unrolled her own prayer-rug in thin air, and sat on it:

“What you did any fish can do, Hasan, and what I did any fly can do. Our real work is far beyond the work of fish and flies.”

One day Rabi’a went into the mountains to pray, and all the animals, the deer and the wild asses, the goats and the gazelles, came up to her, and gazed at her, and danced around her. Then, suddenly, Hasan of Basra showed up – and all the animals ran.

“Why did they make friends with you and run from me?” Hasan asked.

“What did you have for breakfast today?” asked Rabi’a.

“Onions in fried lard.”

“Why shouldn’t they run from you,” Rabi’a answered, “since you eat their fat?”

One day Rabi’a and her serving-girl were getting ready to break a fast of several days. The serving-girl needed an onion and was about to go next door and borrow one, but Rabi’a said: “Forty years ago I vowed never to ask for anything from anyone but God – we can do without onions.”

Just then a bird flew over, and dropped an onion into Rabi’a’s frying pan, peeled and ready to fry.

“Interesting but not convincing,” she said. “Am I supposed to believe that God is an onion-vender? I mean, really.”

That day they fried their bread without onions.

One year Rabi’a planted corn – but then a swarm of locusts arrived, and landed right on it.

Rabi’a prayed:”O God, this corn is my livelihood; it’s taken both my money and my sweat. Who would You like me to give it to, then? To Your enemies or Your friends?”

As soon as she finished her prayer, the locusts rose in a cloud, and flew away, and were never seen again.

One day, when Rabi’a was about to boil some meat, Hasan of Basra dropped by. “Speech about divine things is better food than anything cooked in a pan,” she said, and laid the meat aside. They talked until evening.

Then they decided to break their fast. Rabi’a laid out dry bread and water, and then reached for the pan. She burnt her hand. The pan was bubbling over, the meat cooked. She took it out and served it: it was the best meat either of them had ever tasted.

“Good food for convalescents,” Rabi’a said.

One night when Rabi’a was asleep, a thief snuck into her room and stole her veil – but when he tried to get out again, he couldn’t find the door. He dropped the veil, then found the door- but after he’d gone back to get the veil, he saw that the door had vanished. He dropped the veil again, saw the door – picked up the veil, the door was gone.

He went through this dance seven times. Then, from the corner of his room a Voice spoke to him:

“I wouldn’t worry about it – she’s been in Our keeping for many years, and not even the devil has had enough nerve to walk up and down in that country – how can a little pickpocket like you expect to walk up and down in her veil? If I were you, I’d forget it, because when one friend is asleep, the Other is awake.”

One day two holy men came to visit Rabi’a, hoping to get something to eat; they were sure that whatever food she gave them would be ritually pure since it was “obtained in a lawful manner.”

After they had seated themselves, a cloth containing two loaves of bread was laid before them. Eagerly they reached for the food –

But before they could get it to their mouths, a hungry beggar appeared at the door. Rabi’a immediately gave him both loaves of bread.

This really bothered the two holy men, but they kept it to themselves.

Pretty soon a slave-girl arrived, carrying a load of freshly-baked bread. “My mistress sent this.”

Rabi’a counted the loaves. “I don’t think so,” she said. “There are only eighteen here.” Protests, denials – whatever the girl said, Rabi’a would not believe her.

(What’d happened was that the slave-girl had taken two loaves for herself.) She went away and came back with the full twenty loaves. Rabi’a counted them again: “That’s more like it.”

So Rabi’a served the hungry holy men with twenty loaves instead of two. They were really baffled. “Two loaves, no loaves, twenty loaves – what does it all mean?” They asked.

“As soon as I saw you,” said Rabi’a, “I could tell you were hungry. Two little loaves of bread – how could that be enough for two holy men? Then I remembered the Promise: ‘You give one; I give ten.’ So I gave two to the beggar –

“But when only eighteen came back, I knew that there was either something wrong with my prayer, or that somebody had sticky fingers.”

Rabi’a’s niece Zulfa once asked her: “Aunt Rabi’a, why do you want to keep people from visiting you?”

“It’s because I’m afraid that they’ll spread stories about me, saying things I never did, said things I never said.”

“But they say already that food appears miraculously in your house, and that you cook it without fire.”

“Daughter of my brother, if such things ever showed up in this house, I wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole. Everything I have, I bought with my own money – that’s why all things bless me.”

The source of my grief and loneliness is deep in my breast.

This is a disease no doctor can cure.

Only Union with the Friend can cure it.

I was not born to the Grief of God –

I only grieve to be like those

Who are pierced with the Love of God –

I would be ashamed for my love

To appear less than the grief of others:

Therefore I grieve.

O God, You have promised to reward us for two things:

Pilgrimage, and the endurance of suffering –

But now You won’t accept my Pilgrimage from me –

How can I suffer this?

And what will You reward me with – O Just One –

For what I have suffered on the road?

No-one can claim to be sincere in love

Who doesn’t forget the sting of the Master’s whip

In the presence of the Master –

Just like those Egyptian women

Peeling fruit in the Pharaoh’s kitchen

Who cut their hands to shreds when they saw

Beautiful Joseph stepping in the room,

And didn’t even know it.

In love, nothing exists between breast and Breast.

Speech is born out of longing,

True description from the real taste.

The one who tastes, knows;

The one who explains, lies.

How can you describe the true form of Something

In whose presence you are blotted out?

And in whose being you still exist?

And who lives as a sign for your journey?

Love came out of the former Eternity,

Went away in to the Eternity to come,

And didn’t see anyone in the eighteen-thousand worlds

Worthy to eat even one spoonful of its sweet sherbet –

And when Love reached Truth at last, only this word was left:

He loves them;

They also love Him.

Rabi’a:

“O God

My heart is heavy, like lead, with anguish –

Where am I headed now?

I am only a handful of dust,

And your house is only a stone:

You are all I want in this world:

God:

“Watch out, Rabi’a –

You are getting near to the blood of the eighteen-thousand worlds.

If I were to show myself to the Universe as I am, the Universe would be shattered –

Do you want to destroy the Universe?

Don’t you remember the story of Moses?

When he asked to see my Face

I scattered only a few atoms of revelation upon him,

And Sinai broke into forty pieces.”

I saw Paradise at dawn, and desired it:

But then, out of His jealousy, God made me sick.

One day Rabi’a was sick,

And so her holy friends came to visit her, sat by her bedside,

And began putting down the world.

“You must be pretty interested in this ‘world,’” said Rabi’a,

“Otherwise you wouldn’t talk about it so much:

Whoever breaks the merchandise

Has to have bought it first.”

One day a rich merchant visited Rabi’a

And saw that she was living in a ruin:

So he gave her a thousand pieces of gold

And told her to buy a new house –

But the day she moved in, she became so fascinated

With the beautiful paintings that covered the walls

That she gave the rich man back his money

And went back to live in her ruin – Why?

“Because I was mortally afraid

I might fall in love with that house,” said Rabi’a.

Where a part of you goes

The rest of you will follow – given time.

You call yourself a teacher:

Therefore learn.

One day Hasan of Basra

Stuck his head out the window and cried

Till a drizzle of tears fell on Rabi’a

Passing in the street below.

“Those are proud tears, teacher,” said Rabi’a

“Why not look into your heart and cry for real –

Cry till you’ve made a river so deep

That when you fish for your heart

You’ll never find it there,

Until your hook is taken, at last

By the Lord of Power.”

Sufiyan:

“This is my prayer: let God be satisfied with me.”

Rabi’a:

“How dare you pray that – when you are not satisfied with God?”

“If I hate my sins, will God love me?”

“No –

But if He remembers you,

Then you will remember Him –

So stand in wait.”

Blasphemy tastes like separation.

Faith brings joy, like a loving embrace.

This taste and this joy

Will be exposed tomorrow on the Day of Judgement.

Two groups will assemble on that plain –

One for Separation without Union:

One for Union without End.

Those for Separation will cry:

“Estrangement from Him

Makes a thousand days out of one second –

One night turns into a thousand years

Because of His suffering and His grief!”

And those for Union will sing:

“The hour of meeting

Opens the curtain of Union –

All separation from the Beloved

Now beats the parting drum.”

If you’re afraid that people might discover your sins,

Better start worrying they might find out about your good deeds!

I love God: I have no time left

In which to hate the devil.

O Lord,

You neither open to me the door of Your mansion

Nor let me rest in my own house –

Either invite me in at Mecca

Or leave me alone at Basra!

Once I wanted You so much

I didn’t even dare walk past Your house –

And now

I am not worthy to be let in.

I don’t want the House,

I want the Lord of the House.

What could I do with the Kaaba if I had it?

It’s the most famous idol in the world.

God isn’t inside it, He isn’t outside of it –

The truth is, He doesn’t need it.

“Rabi’a, Rabi’a – how do you see Paradise?”

“I see it like this:

‘First the Neighbour, then the House.’”

O God,

If tomorrow on the Day of Judgement You send me to Hell

I will tell such a secret that Hell will break and run from me

Until it is a thousand years away.

Give the goods of this world to Your enemies –

Give the treasures of Paradise to Your friends –

But as for me – You are all I need.

O God!

If I adore You out of fear of Hell, burn me in Hell!

If I adore You out of desire for Paradise,

Lock me out of Paradise.

But if I adore You for Yourself alone,

Do not deny to me Your eternal beauty.

I carry a torch in one hand

And a bucket of water in the other:

With these things I am going to set fire to Heaven

And put out the flames of Hell

So that voyagers to God can rip the veils

And see the real goal.

The call to prayer

Reminds me of the trumpet of the Day of Judgement:

And whenever I see the snow falling

I see the white pages of my deeds,

Tossing in the wind.

If I beg You to forgive me, I lie.

If I ask myself to repent,

Someday I will have to repent

Of that repentance.

Your hope in my heart is the rarest treasure

Your Name on my tongue is the sweetest word

My choicest hours

Are the hours I spend with You –

O God, I can`t live in this world

Without remembering You –

How can I endure the next world

Without seeing Your face?

I am a stranger in Your country

And lonely among Your worshippers:

This is the substance of my complaint.

My soul, how long will you go on falling asleep

And waking up again?

The time is almost here when you will fall into so deep a sleep

That only the Trumpet of Resurrection

Will have the power to wake you.

“I am the murder of joy,” said the Angel of Death,

“The widower of wives, the orphaner of children –”

“Why always run yourself down’ said Rabi’a _

“Why not say instead: “I am he who brings friend and Friend together?”

“Why do you worship God, Rabi’a”

“’Why’. Because there are seven degrees of why which everyone must pass,

Seven steps on the ladder of Hell,

And everybody has to climb them,

In fear and terror,

Whether or not they want to,

Whether or not they can figure out

‘Why’.”

“Rabi’a – Rabi’a – how did you climb so high”

“I did it by saying:

“Let me hide in You

From everything that distracts me from You,

From everything that comes in my way

When I want to run to You”

“What miracles have you done, if any, Rabi’a”

“If I were to admit a miracle

I’d be worried it might bring in money –

So my answer is: not one!”

My joy-

My Hunger-

My Shelter-

My Friend-

My Food for the journey-

My journey’s End-

You are my breath,

My hope,

My companion,

My craving,

My abundant wealth.

Without You – my Life, my Love-

I would never have wandered across these endless countries.

You have poured out so much grace for me,

Done me so many favors, given me so many gifts-

I look everywhere for Your love-

Then suddenly I am filled with it.

O Captian of my Heart

Radiant Eye of Yearning in my breast,

I will never be free from You

As long as I live.

Be satisfied with me, Love,

And I am satisfied.

O God,

Whenever I listen to the voice of anything You have made –

The rustling of the trees

The trickling of the water

The cries of the birds

The flickering of shadow

The roar of the wind

The song of the thunder,

I hear it saying:

God is One!

Nothing can be compared with God!

Dream

I saw myself in a wide greed garden, more beautiful than I could begin to understand. In this garden was a young girl. I said to her, “How wonderful this place is!”

“Would you like to see a place even more wonderful than this?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” I answered. Then taking me by the hand, she led me on until we came to a magnificent palace, like nothing that was ever seen by human eyes. The young girl knocked on the door, and someone opened it. Immediately both of us were flooded with light.

God alone knows the inner meaning of the maidens we saw living there. Each one carried in her hand a serving-tray filled with light. The young girl asked the maidens where they were going, and they answered her, “We are looking for someone who was drowned in the sea, and so became a martyr. She never slept at night, not one wink! We are going to rub funeral spices on her body.”

“Then rub some on my friend here,” the young girl said.

“Once upon a time,” said the maidens, “part of this spice and the fragrance of it clung to her body – but then she shied away.”

Quickly the young girl let go of my hand, and said to me:

“Your prayers are your light;

Your devotion is your strength;

Sleep is the enemy of both.

Your life is the only opportunity that life can give you.

If you ignore it, if you waste it,

You will only turn into dust.”

Then the young girl disappeared.

After an all-night vigil, I prayed to God at dawn, and slept.

In my dream I saw a Tree: green, bright, vast, of indescribable beauty; and on this Tree were three kinds of fruit, such as I had never seen among all the fruits of this world. They shone like the breasts of maidens, red, white, and yellow; they shone like globes and living suns in the green hollows of the Tree. I marvelled at them, and asked: “Whose Tree is this?”

A voice replied, “This is your Tree, sprung from the seed of your prayers.” Then I began to walk around it, and as I did so I counted eighteen fruits the color of gold, lying on the ground beneath it.

I said, “It would be better if these fruits hadn`t fallen, but were still on the Tree.”

And the voice answered. “They would be there still except for the fact that while you were praying you kept worrying: “Did I remember to add the yeast to the dough.” And so they fell, and there they lie.”

O God,

Another Night is passing away,

Another Day is rising –

Tell me that I have spent the Night well so I can be at peace

Or that I have wasted it, so I can mourn for what is lost.

I swear that ever since the first day You brought me back to life,

The day You became my Friend,

I have not slept –

And even if You drive me from your door

I swear again that we will never be separated –

Because You are alive in my heart.

No-one can repent until God gives him the power.

How long will you keep pounding on an open door,

Begging for someone to open it.

I don`t mourn for the things that make me suffer,

But for the things I fail to suffer!

I am so afraid of separation,

That I have never yet owned a knife.

O God, the stars are shining,

All eyes have closed in sleep.

The kings have locked their doors.

Each lover is alone, in secret, with the one he loves.

And I am here too: alone, hidden from all of them –

With You.

(67)

With my Beloved I alone have been,

When secrets tenderer than evening airs

Passed, and the Vision blest

Was granted to my prayers,

That crowned me, else obscure, with endless fame;

The while amazed between

His Beauty and Majesty

I stood in silent ecstasy

Revealing that which o’er my spirit went and came.

Lo, in His face commingled

Is every charm and grace;

The whole of Beauty singled

Into a perfect face

Beholding Him would cry,

‘There is no God but He, and He is the most High.’

(68)

Stay close by the door, if you desire all beauty

And leave aside sleep, if you wish to arrive

And make of the spirit your first place of account.

To the beloved, whose lights shine as from gold

All of them worship out of fear of the fire.

And consider deliverance abundant good fortune – Or, so they may dwell in the

Gardens, and reach.

To the meadows of paradise, and there drink from its rivers.

Of gardens or fire I have no opinion.

I seek no exchange for my dearest love.

(69)

Rabi’a was told, “Someone has written a thousand facts that prove the existence of Allah.”

She smiled. “One proof is enough.” She said.

“And what is that?”

“If you were passing through a desert, mis-stepped and fell into a well, and couldn’t get out of it, what will you do?” She asked. They said they’d pray to Allah for help. “And that is your proof.” She said.

(70)

It was said to Hazrat Rabia, "Hazrat Hassan says that if on the Day of Qiyamah he is deprived of Allah's Vision for even a moment, he will lament so much that the inmates of Jannat will take pity on him."

Hazrat Rabia said, "True, but this claim is appropriate for only a person who does not forget Allah Ta'ala here on earth for a single moment."

(71)

People asked: "Why do you not take a husband?"

Hazrat Rabia responded, "I am saddled with three concerns. If you remove these worries from me, I shall take a husband. One: Tell me, will I die with Imaan? Two:

On the Day of Qiyamah, will my Record of Deeds be given in my right or left hand?

Three: On the Day of Qiyamah, will I be among the people of the right side or the left side?" The people said that they were unable to give her assurances regarding these issues. She said, "A woman who has these fears has no desire for a husband."

(72)

She was asked, "From whence have you come and whither are you going?" Hazrat Rabia said: "I came from that world and I am returning to that world." The people asked: "What are you doing in this world?" Hazrat Rabia let out a cry of lament. They asked, "Why are you lamenting?" Hazrat Rabia said: "I obtain my rizq (provisions) from that world while I am doing the work of this world."

(73)

When asked for the cause of her constant crying, Hazrat Rabia said: "I fear separation from Allah Ta'ala. I fear that at the time of death, I may be rejected and it be announced, "You do not deserve to be in Our Presence."

(74)

She was asked: "When is Allah pleased with a person?" Hazrat Rabia replied: "When he expresses gratitude for the effort (on His Path) just as he expresses gratitude for bounties."

(75)

”As long as man's heart is not alert, his other limbs cannot find the path of Allah. An alert heart is a heart lost in divine absorption. Such a heart is not in need of the aid of other limbs. This stage is called Fana (annihilation)."

(76)

When Hazrat Rabia Basri would not come to attend the sermons of Hazrat Hassan Basri, he would deliver no discourse that day. People in the audience asked him why he did that. He replied, "The syrup that is held by the vessels meant for the elephants cannot be contained in the vessels meant for the ants."

(77)

Once when Hazrat Hassan Basri went to visit Hazrat Rabia, he found one of the wealthy and prominent citizens of Basra standing with a bag of money, weeping at her door. On enquiring, he said, "I have brought this gift for Hazrat Rabia. I know she will refuse it, hence, I am crying. Do intercede for me. Perhaps she will accept it." Hassan Basri went inside and delivered the message. Hazrat Rabia said, "Since I have recognized Allah, I have renounced the world. I am not aware of its source– whether halal or haram."

(78)

Malik Bin Dinaar went to visit Hazrat Rabia. He found in her home only a partly broken jug which she used for wudhu and drinking water, a very old straw-mat on which she slept and a brick which she used as a pillow. Malik Bin Dinaar said, "I have many affluent friends. Shall I ask them to bring some items for you?"

Hazrat Rabia said, "O Malik! Is my Provider, your Provider and the Provider of the wealthy not the same Being?" Malik said, "Yes." Hazrat Rabia then said, "What, has

He forgotten about the needs of the poor on account of their poverty, while he remembers the needs of the wealthy?" Malik Bin Dinaar said, "It is not so." Hazrat

Rabia then said, "When He never forgets anyone, why should we remind Him? He has wished this condition for me and I am pleased with it because it is His pleasure."

(79)

When her time to depart from earth was near, the illustrious Mashaikh gathered by her. She said, "Go away and leave place for the Angels." They all went out and closed the door. While they were waiting outside, they heard from within a voice reciting:

"O soul at rest! Return to your Rabb."

For a long while thereafter there was silence. When they went inside, they discovered that Hazrat Rabia's soul had taken flight from this world and had reached Allah.

(80)

In a dream someone asked her, "What happened when Munkar and Nakeer came to You?" Hazrat Rabia said, "When they asked me, "Who is your Rabb?" I said, "Go back! Say to Allah: When You had never forgotten this weak woman despite Your remembrance of entire creation, how can she forget You when on earth You were her only remembrance? Why do you send Angels to question her?"

(81)

Muhammad Aslam Toosi and Nu'maa Tartoosi (R.A) stood at her graveside. One of them said:

"O Hazrat Rabia! During your lifetime you made bold and audacious claims of having renounced the world. Tell us, what has transpired now with you?"

From inside the grave, Hazrat Rabia (R.A) spoke, "May Allah grant me barkat (blessings) in what I have seen and am seeing (i.e. of the wonders of the spiritual realm)."

(82)

Rabi`a once said that there are three kinds of men: The first believes that his hands and his sons' hands are all that is necessary to succeed in the only world they know-the material world. The second kind prays with his hands so that a reward will be earned in the next life. The third kind has his hands tied at the wrist, bound with love to serve without thought of return.

(83)

Rabi’a said:

"Everyone prays to You from fear of the Fire;

And if You do not put them in the Fire,

This is their reward.

Or they pray to You for the Garden,

Full of fruits and flowers.

And that is their prize.

But I do not pray to You like this,

For I am not afraid of the Fire,

And I do not ask You for the Garden.

But all I want is the Essence of Your Love,

And to return to be One with You,

And to become Your Face."

(84)

It was told of Rabi`a that she was seen one day carrying a brand of fire in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other, and that she was running very fast. When they asked her what she was doing and where she was going, she said, "I am going to light a fire in the Garden and pour water onto it so that both these veils may disappear from the seekers, and that their purpose may be sure, and that the slaves of Allah may see Him, without any object of hope or motive of fear. What if the Hope for the Garden and the Fear of the Fire did not exist? Not one would worship his Lord, nor obey Him. But He is worthy of worship without any immediate motive or need."

(85)

She said to them, "You rebel against Allah, yet you appear to love Him. I swear by my faith that this is most strange. For if your love were truthful you would have obeyed Him, since the lover obeys the one whom he loves." So that whenever someone said to her, "Alas, for my sorrow (my sins)," she replied, "Do not lie, but say rather, 'Alas for my lack of sorrow,' for if you were truly sorrowful, life would have no delight for you."

(86)

One of her companions, Sufyan al-Thawri, asked her, "What is the best thing for the servant to do who desires proximity to his Lord?" She said, "That the servant should possess nothing in this world for the Next, save Him."

(87)

Once when she was sick a number of people went to visit her. They asked her, "How are you?" She replied, "By Allah! I know of no reason for my illness except that Paradise was displayed to me and I yearned after it in my heart; and I thank that my Lord was jealous for me and so He reproached me; and only He can make me happy again."

(88)

She said, "If I will a thing and my Lord does not will it, I shall be guilty of unbelief."

(89)

She said, "I have fled from the world and all that is in it. My prayer is for Union with You; that is the goal of my desire."

(90)

Once she was heard to say, "If You had not set me apart by affliction, I would not have increased Your lovers."

(91)

She said, "You have given me life and have provided for me, and Yours is the Glory." And she added, "You have bestowed upon me many favors, and gifts, graces and help."

(92)

One day a man, who was said to be a knower of Allah, met Rabi`a who asked him of his state, whereupon he replied, "I have trod the Path of obedience and I have not sinned since Allah created me." She, may Allah be pleased with her, said to him, "Alas my son, your existence is a sin wherewith no other sin may be compared."

(93)

She also said, "You must conceal your good deeds as you conceal your evil deeds."

In the same way, she said, "What appears of any (good) works, I count as nothing at all."

There is a story that Rabi`a was once on her way to Mecca. When she was half-way there she saw the Ka`ba coming to meet her and she said, "It is the Lord of the House Whom I need. What have I to do with the House? I need to meet with Him Who said: 'Whoso approaches Me by a span's length I will approach him by the length of a cubit.' The Ka`ba which I see has no power over me. What does the Ka`ba bring to me?"

And again, a story of the same nature is as follows: It is related that

Ibrahim ibn Adhan, a very holy person, spent fourteen years making his way to the Ka`ba because in every place of prayer he prayed two ruk`u and at last when he reached the Ka`ba he did not see it. He said to himself,

"Alas, what has happened to my eyes. Maybe a sickness has come to them."

Then he heard a voice which said, "No harm has befallen your eyes, but the Ka`ba has gone to meet a woman who is approaching." Ibrahim was seized with jealousy and said, "O indeed; who is this?" He ran and saw Rabi`a arriving, and the Ka`ba was back in its place.

Once when Rabi`a, may Allah be pleased with her, was asked, "Where have you come from?" She said, "From that World." They then asked her, "Where are you going?" She replied, "To that World." They asked, "What are you doing in this world?" She said, "I am sorrowing." They asked, "In what way?" She said, "I am eating the bread of this world and doing the work of that World." Then someone said, "One so persuasive in speech is worthy to keep a guest-house." She replied, "I myself am keeping a rest-house. Whatever is within I do not allow to go out, and whatever is without I do not allow to come in. If anyone comes in or goes out, he does not concern me, for I am contemplating my own heart, not mere clay."

Rabi`a's companions spoke about how she was always weeping and when she was asked, "Why do you weep like this?" she said, "I fear that I may be cut off from Him to Whom I am accustomed, and that at the hour of death a voice may say that I am not worthy."

(94)

She, may Allah be pleased with her, said:

"O God, my whole occupation

And all my desire in this world,

Of all worldly things,

Is to remember You.

And in the Hereafter

It is to meet You.

This is on my side, as I have stated.

Now You do whatever You will."

(95)

In her nightly prayers she loved to commune with her Beloved God, saying, "O God, the night has passed and the day has dawned.

How I long to know if You have accepted my prayers or if You have rejected them. Therefore console me, for it is Yours to console this state of mine.

You have given me life and cared for me, and Yours is the Glory. If You want to drive me from Your Door yet would I not forsake it for the love that I bear in my heart towards You."

(96)

A wealthy merchant once wanted to give her a purse of gold. She refused it, saying that God, who sustains even those who dishonor Him, would surely sustain her, "whose soul is overflowing with love" for Him. And she added an ethical concern as well:

"...How should I take the wealth of someone of whom I do not know whether he acquired it lawfully or not?"

(97)

When a male friend once suggested she should pray for relief from a debilitating illness, she said,

"O Sufyan, do you not know Who it is that wills this suffering for me? Is it not

God Who wills it? When you know this, why do you bid me ask for what is contrary to His will? It is not well to oppose one's Beloved."

(98)

A friend visited her in old age and found that all she owned were a reed mat, screen, a pottery jug, and a bed of felt which doubled as her prayer-rug, for where she prayed all night, she also slept briefly in the pre-dawn chill. Once her friends offered to get her a servant; she replied,

"I should be ashamed to ask for the things of this world from Him to Whom the world belongs, and how should I ask for them from those to whom it does not belong?"

(99)

One of Rabi’a’s prayers is:

"I have made Thee the Companion of my heart,

But my body is available for those who seek its company,

And my body is friendly towards its guests,

But the Beloved of my heart is the Guest of my soul."

(100)

Another:

"O my Joy and my Desire, my Life and my Friend. If Thou art satisfied with me, then, O Desire of my heart, my happiness is attained."

(101)

She told her Sufi friends, "My Beloved is always with me"

Islamic Responses

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Sunday, July 8, 2012

The Teachings of Hazrat Rabi'a al-Adawiyya

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