THE FLASHES

The Second Flash

The Second Reason: Through calamities and illnesses, life is purified, reaches perfection, gains strength, develops, and bears fruit. That is to say, through illnesses life finds its own value and meaning. By contrast, a monotonous life on the couch of ease belongs more to non-existence, which is pure evil, than to existence, which is pure good, and in the end it leads toward it.

The Third Reason: This world is an arena of trial in which one performs service. It is not a place of pleasure or of receiving rewards. Since this world is the place of service and worship, illnesses and calamities, provided they are not spiritual illnesses and are met with patience, are highly favourable to that service and worship. Since each hour of them counts as a day of worship, the sick person should not complain, but rather show gratitude.

Indeed, worship is of two kinds. One is well known: obeying the commands of Allah. The other form of worship arises from illnesses and calamities, through which the afflicted person realizes his weakness and helplessness, turns in complete surrender to his Rabb-i Rahīm, remembers Him, supplicates to Him, and thus performs a pure act of worship. Riyā cannot enter this form of worship; it is pure and performed solely for the sake of Allah.

If he shows patience and gratitude, and remembers the thawāb arising from calamity, then every hour of his illness brings the thawāb of a day of worship. In this way, within his short life he gains a long life. There are even illnesses in which every minute counts as a day of worship.

Once, I became deeply concerned about my brother Muhājir Hāfiz Ahmed, who was gravely ill. Then the following occurred to my heart: “Congratulate him; every minute he spends in that illness brings him the thawāb of a day of worship.” Indeed, that brother of mine was patient and grateful.

 

The Third Point

As we have explained in some of the treatises, whenever a person reflects upon his past, he will express either sorrow or gratitude, whether in his heart or with his tongue. That is, he will either lament, or he will say: Alhamdulillāh.

What causes him to lament are the pains that arise from the passing away of former pleasures. For the ending of pleasure leads to pain. Sometimes a brief pleasure brings with it a lasting pain. To recall it reawakens that pain and causes lamentations to flow forth. By contrast, the ending of temporary pains leads to lasting pleasures that make one say:  Alhamdulillāh.

If, in addition to this, he reflects that worldly calamities will bear fruits in the Hereafter in the form of rewards and thawāb, and realizes that through them a short life may gain the worth of a long life, then rather than merely meeting them with patience, he will respond with gratitude. It then befits him to say:

اَلْحَمْدُ ِللّٰهِ عَلٰى كُلِّ حَالٍ سِوَى الْكُفْرِ وَالضَّلاَلِ

There is a well-known saying: “In times of calamity, time passes slowly.” Indeed, calamities do last long. Yet they do not last long because they are distressing, as is commonly supposed; rather, they last long because they bear the fruits of a long life.