Juz’ 1- Al Fatiha 1 – Al Baqarah 141, Topic: Thoughts on Compassion (rahmah) and Mercy (rahim)

Ramadan Mubarak Everyone!

I prepare to write this first blog post from my hotel room in Houston, TX. I've spent the last two days contemplating larger questions about  faith and belief while collectively exploring the Faith and Practice Module recently published by the IIS as part of the secondary curriculum for REC. Most of the thoughts going through my head during the day had to do with the role of doubt and uncertainty within the realm of faith. On one hand, there are strong messages that communicate doubt as an integral part of faith development, or faith practice. At the same time, I sit with verses of the Quran which speak of faith through certainty. These tensions in my mind significantly color what I focus on in reflecting upon Juz'1 ( Al Fatiha-Al Baqarah 141).

First, a few notes on the process. There is a lot of material! The translation itself is difficult to comment on because many of the Surahs (and perhaps Al Baqarah in particular) are heavy in their range/quantity of topics. Therefore, reading the commentary becomes even more daunting. So, for those of you who are not reading along, please note that I am not attempting to summarize the ayahs from each day's reading. Instead, I thought it might be helpful to include the book's Introduction on Surah Fatihah and Surah Baqarah , so you get a comprehensive view of what was covered.

First, a couple of comments on Surah Fatihah. The translation of fatihah given in this book, is the following:

In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. Praise be to God, Lord of the worlds, the Compassionate, the Merciful, Master of the Day of Judgement. Thee we worship and from Thee we seek help. Guide us upon the straight path, the path of those whom Thou hast blessed, not of those who incur wrath, nor of those who are astray. (p.5)


Most of the focus of the interpretation provided by the authors was around God's attributes of compassion and mercy. On a side note, I recently read Reza Shah Kazemi's Spiritual Quest in which he provides interpretation on a handful of surahs based on the teachings of Imam Ali (AS). In his section on Fatihah, he interprets the wrath or anger in the final ayah ("not of those who incur wrath") as a self-inflicted wrath. To elaborate, he explains that Surah Fatihah is all about God's mercy and that the wrath is not a wrath from God, but instead it is the wrath man would incur upon himself if he denied himself the recognition of the mercy of God. Ever since I was young, I remember feeling very unsettled with the translation "not of those cursed ones, nor of those who have gone astray". I wondered, why would God curse people if He is so merciful? . Kazemi's understanding of wrath/anger eased this tension but I still had questions around why a person would be so angry with themselves for not recognizing the mercy of God?.  The authors of A Study Quran, have helped me answer this last question. 

Thoughts on Compassion (rahmah) and Mercy (rahim):

In the book, the authors explain that the act of creation is in itself an act of Compassion (rahmah) or Loving-Mercy. The Loving-Mercy of Rahmah is a Divine Mercy, because it (as a name) cannot be applied to anything other than Allah. The authors explain that the reason Rahmah is only reserved as an attribute for Allah is because rahmah is linked with the act of creation itself, and no other being can be associated with the act of creating. This is in contrast to rahim (merciful) which is a more commonplace notion of mercy as an attribute of character. The authors explain the relationship between the more universal, divine Mercy (rahmah) and the more particularity, attributable mercy (rahim), in the following:

The relationship between them (rahmah and rahim) is thus presented as that of different levels  or degrees of light: al-Rahman is like the light of the sun that illuminates the whole sky, and al-Rahim is like the particular ray of sunlight that touches a creature. (p.6/7)

This analogy really helped me understand the relationship between these two types of mercy. Rahmah enables rahim to exist; it (rahmah)creates the environment and informs the particular mercy (rahim). And yet, on a daily basis, it is the mercy of individuals (rahim) that we often feel and experience which opens our heart's eye to glimpses of the greater universal mercy (rahmah). 

The authors go on to say, "In Islamic metaphysics and cosmology it is stated that it was by God breathing "the Breath of the Compassionate" (Nafas al-Rahman) upon the immutable essence (al-a'yan al-thabitah) which are the archetypes of all things in Divine Knowledge, that the world was brought into being. From this perspective, the very existence of the world is in essence nothing but the breath of Divine Compassion." (p.7)

Understanding Divine Compassion in this way, as part of our primordial essence allows me to better answer the earlier question of why would man be angry at himself for not acknowledging the mercy of Allah? It is not simply a question of Allah's mercy as an attribute of Him, but it is a question of recognizing creation itself AND the nature of His creation.

Thoughts on Hypocrisy

The part of Surah Baqarah I am focusing on are ayahs 8-13. The translation in the book is as follows:

Among mankind are those who say, "We believe in God and in the Last Day," though they do not believe. They would deceive God and the believers; yet they deceive none but themselves, though they are unaware. In their hearts is a disease, and God has increased them in disease. Theirs is a painful punishment for having lied. And when it is said unto them, "Do not work corruption upon the earth," they say, "We are only working righteousness." Nay, it is they who are the workers of corruption, thought they are unaware. 

I understand that these ayahs were referring to the hypocrites (munafiqun), a specific group of people who pretended to be Muslims but were essentially playing both sides for political gain.  Even still, I cannot help but personalize these ayahs. My faith is constantly wavering and often feels unstable. In fact, the only stable part of my faith-practice is my affiliation to my religious community. Regardless of the strength of my conviction or the regularity of my practice, I still engage in community space and profess myself as a Muslim or as an Ismaili. Yet, inside I may be questioning the premise upon which the community exists. I would like to think I continue to engage in the community because it is an entry point to my spiritual search, but there are also worldly benefits  I gain from my affiliation and verbal allegiance to the faith community. What then makes me different from the munafiqun referred to in Surah Baqarah? At the same time, I believe faith is a non-linear journey punctuated with many levels of consciousness and multiple articulations. I struggle with fears that I am letting myself get away with too much (hypocrisy) by continuing to engage in community-space and service, while still wavering (sometimes dramatically) in my convinction of faith.

For those of you who know me, know that it is entirely appropriate for me to close this blog in distress and on a pessimistic note. Why change now?

I offer humble prayers that we all have a peaceful month ahead filled with opportunities for reflection, love, and patience. It would be a treat to hear from those of you who wish to comment on this blog. Also, do let me know if you would like to guest write one of the days.

Thank you for including me in your Ramadan this year.

Khuda Hafiz,
Natasha