The New Nation - Internet Edition

Shelina Zahra

The Qur'anic stories of the Prophets offer us a reminder and an emotional connection towards the spirituality that Muslims strive for. Shelina Zahra Janmohamed is therefore troubled by an increasing negativity towards remembrance and emotion.

This year, the occasion of Easter and the occasion of the birth of Prophet Muhammad, fall very close to each other. Both are clearly incredibly significant events to the faiths of Christianity and Islam respectively. Both mark the lives of individuals who have made a world-changing contribution (universe-changing some might say). Easter weekend falls from March 21 to March 24, whilst the birthday of the Prophet falls somewhere between the 20 and the 25, depending on which sources of history you refer to - the Islamic date usually being either the 12th or 17th of the 3rd Islamic month Rabi' al-Awwal.

Easter - along with the other occasions of the Christian calendar - appears to me to be a unifying event for the Christian community. I do not agree with the doctrine it reinforces (having chosen to be a Muslim rather than a Christian), but I do admire its focus and reflection on an historical event that can stir emotions and also shed light on our current and future circumstances.

It is an undeniable truth that the study of history and its remembrance is an aid to mapping a wiser brighter future. That is why Scripture - like the Qur'an - recounts the stories of Prophets and communities past, so that we can reflect on what happened to them, why it happened, and then avoid their mistakes. And the very point of narrating the stories and parables of these human guides is to offer an emotional connection and a human example of spirituality and worship.

The Qur'an repeatedly remembers what has happened to the Prophets and peoples before us. It tells us that the Prophets were sent as bearers of good news and guidance but also as warners. It re-iterates their stories in chapter after chapter, reminding us of their birth, lives and deaths and urging us to remember them and what they said to their people. Surah Saffat (The Ranks, Chapter 37) for example, is a poetic essay of the lives of the salihîn, the good. It tells us about Prophets such as Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Lot, Moses and Aaron. After the individual commemoration of each Prophet, the Qur'an says, salâm, peace, to each one. In case we missed this repetition, it rounds off the chapter by saying, salâm, to all the messengers, and then praises Allah.

With all of this in mind, I have been startled in recent years by the growing numbers of messages I receive in the form of emails, newsletters and sombre advice telling me that I should refrain from remembering events such as the birthday of the Prophet. Such advice sometimes goes as far as to tell me it is harâm (forbidden) to commemorate the Prophet's birth. I am told not to commemorate his birth or death, not to mark the death of near or respected individuals, not to spend time in spiritual reflection on various nights throughout the year, not to remember the dead.

I find this deeply troubling. The sign of a mature community is one that can reflect on what has past. It needs to study what has happened and learn the lessons of history and then move forward. Where we found ourselves wanting, we must mourn and then convert our remorse into a more positive future. Where we found good, we must rejoice. To stop remembrance severs our roots. It leaves us floating precariously in an unanchored vacuum where we have no frame of reference. That is when we become weak and pale as a people.

What I also find troubling is that this growing negativity towards remembrance is aimed at quashing human emotion as a component of faith. There is an emotional value that remembrance brings to our faith, and by denying remembrance we are eroding the emotion of faith. It is natural for human beings to be joyful and emotional in remembering those who have done good to them - particularly when they have sacrificed their lives to bring us that goodness. The Prophet is the best example of this. It is the natural condition for a Muslim to feel love and happiness in relation towards him. In fact, the Qur'an tells us that the people asked the Prophet what he wanted in exchange for teaching them about Islam and the Qur'an answers that all he wanted is muwaddah, love. We should bear in mind that the Qur'an tells us that even Allah and the angels send their blessings on the Prophet, and that those who believe do the same. The fitrah (innate nature) of the human being is to remember. It is also the fitrah of the human being that he or she will rush in the direction in which emotion pulls it.

Without that emotion to drive it, the path is arid and laborious. Infused with emotion and remembrance it appeals to the instinct which is placed in each human's heart to reach for the Divine. Remembrance is what opens the heart and creates love and tranquillity.

The theological arguments about whether the birthday of the Prophet should be celebrated or not will continue to rage, I'm sure. However, as people centred around faith and spirituality, what we do need is an understanding that remembrance - in whatever way people choose to exercise it - is a crucial component of our community ethos.

(Shelina Zahra Janmohamed has her own blog at www.spirit21.co.uk )