Ok, That Eid Khutbah Was Incredible

Six of My Students Are Graduating

I just heard one of the most profound and pertinent sermons of all time and it happened unexpectedly. But what I heard doesn’t just apply to Islam, though it definitely does, too; what I heard is advice every person should take, regardless of your faith—because this wasn’t just for Muslims.

Photo by Abdullah Mukadam on Unsplash

As a family, we planned to attend the fourth jama‘at — the fourth and final service for today’s Eid al-Adha holiday. It’s a special prayer followed by a khutbah (sermon), which a lot of people don’t stick around for and, if I’m honest (apologies to the masjid), a lot of people often talk through and over. I’ve never been to a masjid where so many people talk so much at the conclusion of services, which is pertinent.

Because a lot of attendees treat the Eid prayer as just the prayer, and ignore, overlook or discount the subsequent sermon, I’ve started to, too. It’s hard to pay attention when there’s so much chatter and inevitably I just zone out. In this case, too, it was close to noon, we were all tired and worn down from a busy week, and hungry, thirsty and decaffeinated, too.

Eventually, though, the crowd thinned out and the people who were left were the people who wanted to be there and respected the masjid. (I’m sorry if I’m blunt but, well—you wouldn’t talk when someone has an important work call, so what does it say if you talk while people are praying? Effectively that you don’t care about them, you can’t control yourself, or you think your chit-chat outranks worship.)

In the merciful quiet, the khateeb—the preacher’s—voice could be discerned.

The khateeb is not an Imam. He’s a community member who was talking about the Prophet Abraham, peace be upon him, a central figure in Islam for sure but also central to the Eid holiday.

Then the preacher dropped his wisdom, which I’ll paraphrase.

Abraham (S) approached his life, the preacher said, with curiosity and conviction. Remember those two words: Curiosity and conviction. Abraham kept asking questions, of his father, his people, the world and God. He asked these questions, the preacher explained, until he was satisfied. Once he realized he’d hit upon the truth, then Abraham moved with intention: Abraham pursued the path he’d landed on.

That’s how we should be in faith, the preacher said, though he could’ve applied this to anything in life. Keep asking questions, he explained—itself a fascinating message to hear in a sermon!—until you’re satisfied. Once you’re satisfied, however, then you need to act like Abraham did, with conviction! That’s great advice for life, especially the chronic overthinkers among us.

You have to become someone.

So many of us put life on hold, from choosing what to major in to pursuing marriage to having kids to committing to a religious path. All of us have doubts, hesitations and questions. Except, at some point, when you’ve asked all the reasonable questions, you’re just doing yourself a disservice. At some point, you’ve got to get out there and become the person you’re meant to be.

At some point, you have to move from idea to execution.

The sad thing is, a lot of us wait too long. We wait so long that the doors close. The opportunities dwindle. The past looms large and the future dims. Don’t wait too long. Ask questions, sure. But don’t let questions keep you from commitments. Know how to ask the right questions, which includes who you ask from—and learn how to learn from the answers. In faith, yes. And in our mundane lives.

We’re here to live, with curiosity and conviction. Don’t put off marriage too long. Don’t put off learning. Don’t put off exercise. Don’t put off time with friends and family. Do what you can, when you can. Learn as much as you need. But let that learning be the foundation that launches you forward, that you come back to when you’re tired, that renews your faith and your commitment.

What a beautiful Friday message.

Elsewhere

Photo by Meng Yu Zhang on Unsplash

This week, our eldest graduated high school—and we got to celebrate with friends and family, which was incredible. The food was good, the setting was lovely, my wife puts on a fantastic function, and we were moved by two prominent local shaykhs sharing encouragement and prayers. She’s on to the next chapter, which is exciting, probably a little overwhelming, but good all the same.

We have to keep going. We have to look forward. But what will she look back on?

Yesterday, another halaqa student graduated. A few weeks back, two more graduated. Tomorrow, one of my first halaqa students is graduating and I’ll be honored to share a few words on the proverbial stage. All told, six of my students are headed to college, which is a curious feeling. It took me years to figure out how to make the halaqa work.

I’ve made so many mistakes on the way, struggled with a lack of resources, space, time and support. But I’m glad I started out. These six had to suffer the ups and downs of a halaqa just beginning to come together, but they stuck with it. I’m sad to see them go, so incredibly proud of them, so keen to continue teaching those who come after them, hoping they’ll check in from time to time…

But most of all, I pray that one day they lead halaqas of their own. That they care enough to make sure others care. That one day, after asking all the questions they need to, their hearts will be satisfied, and then they will build.

I look around our country, after all, and see many powerful people who never asked questions, whose lives balanced tremendous worldly successful with nothing within, nothing but a hollowness that drives them, embarrasses and dilapidates our country, and sets the world back. These are people who might have had curiosity, but never conviction. Though I think the truth is worse.

They have conviction. But they do not have curiosity. They never learned life’s most important lessons.

We need students more than ever. We need teachers more than ever. Teachers need students, of course. But if we never allow ourselves to be students, we’ll never become the teachers the world needs.

Eid Mubarak!