We open on a duel. Hazrat ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, the cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammad (S), called Asadullah or the Lion of God (R), has the upper hand in a match against a formidable opponent. His enemy is on the back foot and then down, fast realizing he not only can’t beat ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib (R), but he will die here.
In desperation, the wicked man spits in ‘Ali’s face.
Pause: Because the boys are riveted by this story. They offer some choice suggestions when I ask them what ‘Ali should do in response to being so disrespected. But they aren’t ready for what happens next. “Remember,” I point out, “this is Hazrat ‘Ali. How do you really think he’d respond?”
Their minds are kind of blown when I share with them that Hazrat ‘Ali (may God ennoble his face) actually walks away, sheathing his sword, potentially putting his life in danger. From winning to walking away. That man was incredulous. “What are you doing?” he wonders, flabbergasted. You have the upper hand. Finish me!
Nothing in this man’s conceptual universe can imagine the answer that comes next.
Until you spat on me, the Lion of God explains, I was fighting for God—for what is right, noble, just, beautiful. But when you spat on me, he explained, I wanted to respond out of ego, pride, arrogance. That was wrong, of course, and so ‘Ali withdrew, rather risking his own death than living with murder on his conscience.
This past Thursday, we started on futuwwah, how Muslims historically described chivalry. (Dawud Walid’s recent book on the topic is a great introduction and overview.) We won’t have enough time in our remaining classes to go much deeper, but this was a good place to lay a foundation to come back to.
We had been talking about what’s happening to Gaza, about why Palestine matters so much to us. There are of course many reasons we should all be outraged by this brutal war. But in this instance, I wanted to ask—what is an Islamic response to injustice? What would it mean to do the right thing?
We as men must work to build ourselves on the model Allah (God) provides for us. So we love what we love. Allah loves strength and justice, mercy and decency, fairness and compassion. When the rights of God’s creatures are violated, we should be angry—but angry like Hazrat ‘Ali, for Allah’s sake—not for our own.
Otherwise we might respond to injustice with injustice, as we hear a shocking, horrifying number of people these days argue that, well, sometimes, you just have to kill innocent people. They are like that man ‘Ali defeated. Their sense of morality, decency, and justice is so narrow they cannot imagine some lines cannot be crossed.
Come what may.
When I asked the boys about whether it would ever be okay to harm an innocent person, F jumped up: “No, because we have to answer to Allah!”
What Allah rejects we must reject. Maybe at first it’s hard and we have to force ourselves. Over time, though, what we commit to, we internalize.
Even if we’re wronged, we cannot commit a reciprocal wrong. Otherwise, no matter the victory we achieve, it will ultimately be a catastrophic and permanent defeat. Because nobody lives forever and nobody can escape answering for what he does. When a man finds himself wondering how many innocents is just enough to kill…
When he finds himself asking if injustice can be acceptable in the pursuit of justice, then that “man” is about as far as he can be from courage, confidence, and God. I shared this lesson with them because as we grow older, we all face moments when we might be asked to compromise. When we blur the lines.
If we understand our faith well, we will better understand what we can and cannot compromise on. If we live our faith seriously, we can try to do more than preach, but work to practice. And as I always tell them, we’re all on that journey. Me as well. Then we ended with a du’a, they had some pizza, and then they were off to play basketball.
Next week, believe it or not—they definitely still can’t believe it—they have a review session and then in the last week a test (yeah). My aim isn’t to weigh them down. It’s to see how comfortable they are with bigger questions, with reading and thinking creatively and critically, and with putting information together.
My long-term ambition isn’t for them just to repeat answers in mechanical ways.
It’s to grow the foundations that’ll enable them to become mature, thoughtful, resilient adults, who know the basics of their faith and the overarching values together, such that they will be able to become mature, responsible men, capable of evaluating teachers and preachers, raising families, building communities…
That means thinking even now, in sixth and seventh grade, about where their learning is intended to go. Because if I’m honest, I’m actually angry. Not for my own sake, but for our faith’s sake—and our kids’ sake. I see so many Muslims pour so much energy into secular success.
But what about the moral foundations? What good does it gain a believer to earn a handsome salary if he cannot turn it to some good (or, worse yet, if the source itself is problematic)? I mean, look around. We see politicians, and entire political causes, that might be “victorious.” They’re also morally bankrupt.
Which is why I’m growing Sunday Schooled, adding in important voices from Muslim and other traditions, leading a trip to learn from Muslim Spain, and pointing us to resources, ideas, and concepts that will educate, empower, and ennoble us. If that matters to you, please consider joining Sunday Schooled.
And if you’ve already subscribed, consider sharing!
Our Father Abraham, Peace Be Upon Him
To all of my brothers and sisters in faith, celebrating ‘Eid al-Adha, the Feast of the Sacrifice: Mubarak—may it be blessed! To the many I know who are there now, with the millions more completing their pilgrimage, may it be accepted! I pray the day is beautiful, blessed, and bright.
Substackistan (Or, Around the Web)
I’m happy to share three great recent reads, building on vital common threads and urgent themes, which we should all be paying attention to—the loss of meaning afflicting too many of our fellow Americans, the question of what education can and should do, and whether we are ever in any position to decide on theology and morality from the narrow perspective of of our lives and experiences.
In short, I always find Wisdom of Crowds, Freddie deBoer, and Graphs About Religion thoughtful and powerful. Subscribe!
Thank you, Haroon. These kids are so lucky to have a teacher like you.