Spiritual Chambers

Ayatollah Nekounam's books

Spiritual Chambers
Explaining the Values of the Seminary Period and the Religious Knowledge Acquisition Method

Bibliographic Information

Author: Mohammad Reza Nikounam (b. 1327)
Title: Spiritual Chambers: Explaining the Values of the Seminary Period and the Religious Knowledge Acquisition Method / Mohammad Reza Nikounam
Publisher: Islamshahr: Sobh Farda Publishing, 2012
Physical Description: 120 pages; 14.5 x 21 cm
Series: Collection of Works, Vol. 151
ISBN: 978-600-6435-83-1
Subjects: Nikounam, Mohammad Reza – Sermons; Seminary Students; Seminary Students – Way of Life
National Bibliography Number: 2997074

Foreword
The central theme of this book revolves around the Quranic verses: “And say: ‘My Lord, grant me a blessed abode, and You are the best of those who grant a place of abode.'” (1) and “Has the story of Moses reached you? When he saw a fire and said to his family, ‘Stay here, indeed I have perceived a fire, perhaps I can bring you a torch or find at the fire some guidance.'” (2). These verses outline the spiritual journey of a seminarian and the value it holds. We consider entering the “Sacred Valley” (Wadi Tuwa) as the ultimate goal of seminary life, as it is through this journey that a student distinguishes himself from those in other fields of study and enters the house of Imam Sadiq (a.s.), feeling the presence of the Imam (a.s.) and the hand of the Imam of our time (may Allah hasten his reappearance) over their head.

The “Sacred Valley” is a challenging and arduous stage, a place where even Prophet Moses (a.s.) encountered difficulties upon entering. To reach this status, one must stand firm, at least to attain the rank of spiritual inspiration and divine insight: “And I have chosen you, so listen to what is revealed to you.” Seminary students are the chosen ones of God in this age. This verse accurately describes the life of students and scholars.

In this book, we discuss what is of primary importance for a religious scholar: the acquisition of knowledge. We prioritize knowledge over all other pursuits and consider the main mission of seminaries to be the production of religious knowledge, not merely the performance of ritualistic practices. A seminarian who fails to excel in the creation of religious knowledge (which we have explained in our book “Sociology of Religious Scholars”) or at least fail to embody the characteristics of knowledge, presents a problem, as such endeavors impose an unnecessary cost on seminaries. Our point is that the knowledge a seminarian must acquire goes beyond mere memorization of preliminary texts; it should include the generation of knowledge, but not just knowledge based on the formal definitions of logic. True knowledge is something that reveals, creates, and brings into existence. What we learn as mere information does not constitute knowledge; it is the creation of new ideas that is true knowledge.

To achieve this level of intellectual capacity, one must be firm-hearted and disciplined, mastering the art of self-control and managing one’s mind and soul. This is the kind of soul that can arrive at scientific certitudes through clear thought, devoid of imaginary interference, and achieve accurate and truthful findings. Only in this way can a seminary succeed in shaping the Shia cultural blueprint across all fields and create new scientific principles. The first step for a seminarian is to learn how to think critically and creatively. The seminarian’s pursuit of organizing and developing religious thoughts should encompass their entire being, becoming the core structure of their existence.

We must prioritize the production of thought before we focus on preaching. True knowledge is the set of justified, valid certitudes created by the individual through thought and imagination. It is through creative invention and novelty that this knowledge takes form.

Of course, achieving such intellectual capabilities requires rigorous discipline. Seminary discipline involves understanding oneself as a migrant towards God, leaving behind all worldly attachments. Once these attachments are shed, the ability to listen and learn from scholars and those who serve as interpreters of divine revelation becomes possible. Only after shedding attachments and finding a mentor who embodies the spiritual guidance of the school of the Ahl al-Bayt (a.s.) can the seminarian begin to truly serve and attain the third facet of spiritual completion.

This book lays out the stages of spiritual and intellectual growth as understood in the seminary system, outlining its essence and the various phases one must undergo.

Endnotes

Quran, Surah Al-Mu’minun (23:29)
Quran, Surah Ta-Ha (20:10–14)
Spiritual Seminary Rooms
Explaining the Values of the Seminary Period and the Religious-Centered Approach to Acquiring Knowledge
Identification
Author: Mohammadreza Nokonam (b. 1327)
Title: Spiritual Seminary Rooms: Explaining the Values of the Seminary Period and the Religious-Centered Approach to Acquiring Knowledge / Mohammadreza Nokonam
Publication Information: Islamshahr: Sobh Farda Publications, 2012
Physical Description: 120 pages; 14.5 × 21 cm.
Series: Works Series, Vol. 151
ISBN: 978-600-6435-83-1
Catalogue Number: 2997074
Preface
The focus of the discussion in this book revolves around the noble verses: “And say, ‘My Lord, grant me a blessed abode, for You are the best of those who provide hospitality’” (1) and “And has the story of Moses reached you? When he saw a fire and said to his family, ‘Stay here, indeed, I have perceived a fire; perhaps I can bring you a torch or find at the fire some guidance.’ But when he came to it, he was called, ‘O Moses, indeed, I am your Lord, so remove your sandals. Indeed, you are in the sacred valley of Tuwa. And I have chosen you, so listen to what is revealed. Indeed, I am Allah. There is no deity except Me, so worship Me and establish the prayer for My remembrance’” (2).
These noble verses elucidate the path and value of seminary life. We consider entering the ‘Valley of Tuwa’ as the ultimate goal of the seminary period. It is in this valley that a seminarian becomes distinct from scholars of other disciplines, entering the house of Imam Sadiq (PBUH) and feeling the hand of the Imam (May Allah hasten his reappearance) upon their head.
‘Valley of Tuwa’ is an extremely difficult and profound station, one that even Prophet Moses (PBUH) faced difficulty upon entering. To reach this station, one must stand firm, striving to attain the sacred virtue of divine inspiration: “And I have chosen you, so listen to what is revealed.” Seminarians are the chosen ones of God in this era. This verse beautifully reflects the status of seminarians and religious scholars.
In this book, we focus on what is of primary importance and precedence for a religious scholar, emphasizing that acquiring knowledge takes precedence over all else. We regard the primary task of seminary institutions as the production of religious knowledge, not merely the dissemination of devotional practices. A seminarian who does not excel in the pursuit of religious knowledge, especially the production of religious knowledge—as discussed in the book Sociology of Religious Scholars—should not occupy a position of study, as it imposes unnecessary costs upon the seminaries.
The type of knowledge that a seminarian must acquire is not merely the memorization of basic principles and facts. Rather, it should transcend that, leading to the creation of knowledge—though not knowledge defined merely by logic. True knowledge is always particular, genuine, and external. It involves discovery, innovation, creation, and expression. What we learn as ‘news’—the information of others—is not true knowledge. True knowledge involves creation. Merely memorising facts and ideas is not knowledge.
To reach such a capability, one must be resolute, even to the point of abandoning one’s heart and mastering one’s mind and soul. Such a soul, free from the interference of imagination, can reach sound and truthful insights. Only in this way can the seminary truly succeed in delineating the intellectual framework of Shia culture and generate new scientific principles across all domains.
The first step in a seminarian’s studies is that they learn how to think. Thinking and creating ideas are the driving forces for a seminarian. Their effort must be dedicated to the organization and conceptualization of religious ideas, forming the very foundation of their being. We must think about creating thoughts before focusing on preaching. Knowledge is a collection of sound, justified propositions created and expressed by the individual, distinguished by its originality. Focusing on conceptual matters or memorizing facts is only useful at the educational level, not beyond that.
However, to achieve this, one must undergo rigorous training. Seminary training means seeing oneself as a migrant toward God, leaving behind everything except God. Once the attachments are removed, the next stage is the ability to listen—especially from the scholars and jurists who represent the divine message. Only after this preparation, can a seminarian reach the true capacity for worship and cultivate their full potential.
These noble verses eloquently explain the structure of the seminary, its essence, and the sequential stages involved.
The Sacred Seminary Path
The Almighty says in the Holy Qur’an: “And say, ‘My Lord, grant me a blessed abode, for You are the best of those who provide hospitality’” (1).
O God, place me in a blessed dwelling, a position not by my own choosing but solely through Your divine selection, for You are the best of all those who grant homes. We live in a time marked by a resurgence of secular humanism—an era dominated by self-centeredness, where humanity distances itself from God. In such an age, choosing the best abode is no simple task, and it is indeed one of the highest divine favours. One of the blessed places in this era is the seminaries, the schools and assemblies affiliated with the Ahl al-Bayt (the family of the Prophet). We must be grateful to our forebears, who, with their divine breaths and interventions, brought us to this blessed abode.
The present discussion is a practical and necessary topic for esteemed seminarians, playing a vital role in the seminarian’s life. A seminarian must avoid unnecessary and fruitless discussions, dedicating their efforts to the best of pursuits. We must contemplate both our present challenges and those of the future. What situation do we find ourselves in during our ten years of study, and what questions do we face? The answers must be prepared now.
For example, discussions about historical matters—such as the names and ages of individuals or the whereabouts of the Imam of the Time (May Allah hasten his reappearance)—are unnecessary. These are the distractions that scholars of the past used to occupy us with. As the children of the revolution and inheritors of the blood of many martyrs, we must not easily engage with every trivial issue. Instead, we must dedicate ourselves to the most important task, even at the expense of other important matters. You are in the prime of youth, and your efforts should focus on studying, all while navigating the challenges of life amidst inflation and economic pressures.
Is Knowledge More Important than Faith?
My speech begins with the question: Is knowledge more important than faith? I argue that knowledge takes precedence over faith, as faith can be a fruit and blossom of knowledge. However, the question arises: why, despite the fact that our forebears did not possess extensive knowledge, was their faith stronger than that of many scholars today? I want to say explicitly to you, my dear students, we do not consume the Imam’s share nor do we use the resources of the seminary merely for performing acts of worship. Rather, we are here to acquire knowledge—specifically, religious knowledge that distinguishes itself by its religious methodology. The primary value for a religious scholar is knowledge, not ritual acts or secondary religious practices. Seminaries are institutions of knowledge, and like the precedence of purity over worship, knowledge precedes all else.
In conclusion, we must prioritize knowledge above all, for it is the root from which faith emerges. Wherever there is true knowledge, faith is sure to accompany it. Knowledge is the foundation of faith, and it cannot exist without it. Therefore, we must dedicate ourselves to true knowledge, for it is in this pursuit that we truly serve the Imam (May Allah hasten his reappearance).
“Little Water Brings Thirst”
The current issue in our seminary is not only the accumulation of knowledge but also the overexertion of effort, which results in an overwhelming amount of time dedicated to acquiring information. A person who overworks in such a manner loses the quality of their work, diminishes their ability for creativity and innovation, and can only learn and memorise the knowledge of others, drowning their precious existence under layers of the viewpoints of others. Of course, detaching oneself from their own thoughts and self in the darkness and solitude is difficult and requires practice. The human mind, much like a light-hearted sparrow, constantly flits from one thought to another, making it hard to tame at first. However, with consistent effort, one can control both the inputs and outputs of the mind. A person who cannot control their mind, especially during prayers, frequently experiences doubt. A mind filled with doubt is fragile and in urgent need of remedy. We must strive to perform our prayers in such a way that they become automatic, not something that traps us in the details of the first and second units or the counting of supplications. This, after all, is mere engagement in the mathematics of prayer, not the prayer itself. It diverts us from the essence of “إِیاک نَعْبُدُ وَإِیاک نَسْتَعِینُ” (1), engaging us with matters unrelated to the Divine. Certainly, the rules of doubt (shakk) apply to the general public, but a seminary student should not experience so much doubt. Instead, they must train their soul to the extent that even in sleep, their mind would automatically perform prayer without doubt. However, a soul cannot achieve such a state unless it has been detached from its distractions outside of prayer. Only when the soul has been subdued outside of prayer can it attain a tranquil state during prayer.
Therefore, for a seminary student to have a mind that is calm, productive, and creative, they require a broad and expansive heart. Without being broad-hearted, a student becomes tainted by pride and the rigidity of knowledge, and their knowledge does not allow for humility, nor for genuine connection with others. A door, window, or opening must be created in this heart, through which control can be maintained, ensuring that others cannot enter without permission. The heart must be emptied to make way for wisdom.
So far, we have said that until one’s perceptions are clear and healthy, it is impossible to reach certainties, which constitute true knowledge. Moreover, knowledge is a light that arises in the heart and grants an individual the power of discovery, innovation, and creativity. Merely retaining the knowledge and data of others is not knowledge in itself. To access such power, one must be free of attachments and master the art of controlling their mind and soul. Only such a soul can, with the help of clear and untainted perceptions, arrive at scientific certainties and attain correct, truthful findings. In this way, one will also be free from doubt in their prayers, and the rules of doubt will no longer apply. Just as the three “دمای” (Demi) states are structured, the approach to knowledge should be a continual process of refinement and self-awareness.
Certainly, one should not spend months studying the lessons of advanced theological studies and the reasoning behind voluntary acts while neglecting the practice of nightly prayers. In our view, one can perform the night prayer (Salat al-Layl) before dawn, in its rightful manner, to avoid obsessing over ritual calculations. What is important is to reach a state where nothing remains that leads to doubt or excessive obsession. In this state, the myriad mental and emotional afflictions, such as OCD, are gradually removed. The first step in reaching such stages is not to neglect the basics, ensuring that, through maintaining clear and sound perceptions, one can arrive at accurate and genuine certainties.
One of these certainties is the belief that God is a real, singular entity, as addressed in prayer: “إِیاک نَعْبُدُ وَإِیاک نَسْتَعِینُ.” If one intends to recite this verse in an eloquent style, how can they address it correctly without engaging in its analysis and structure? It is clear that one can only express it eloquently if they are free from self-attachment and external distractions.
May God sustain His support, determination, and blessing upon all seminaries and upon all of you, dear ones.
Sinai 3
Overcoming the Dilemmas of Seminary Life
The Qur’an states: “And say, ‘My Lord, grant me a blessed place of descent, and You are the best of those who provide a place of descent.'” (1).
Previously, we asserted that the foundation of all knowledge lies in certainties and that conceptual matters cannot be considered knowledge. We also mentioned that what is taught in seminaries is the certainties of past scholars, which do not qualify as knowledge for us. The certainties of the past are the perceptions of today, just as today’s certainties, if enduring, will be tomorrow’s perceptions. However, as stated:
“And it is by his precedence that he attains the highest praises.” (2)
Despite the immense struggle of past scholars and their pious successors, their contributions belong to their time, and for us, they leave nothing beyond mere perceptions, many of which might be incorrect. In other words, knowledge is never inherited; it is perceptions that are passed down, and it is with these perceptions that we can engage in the creation of knowledge. True religious knowledge emerges from a soul that is free-thinking, with the power of ijtihad (independent legal reasoning) in full activation. This is why we cannot claim that the late Sheikh Ansari, may his soul rest in peace, brought the ultimate conclusion to every legal discussion, for he was bound by his era, and only the infallible (Ahl al-Bayt) transcend time.
In the face of the knowledge of our predecessors, we must not adopt a passive attitude, even though we revere and respect their greatness. We must come to the realization that past scholars left us with nothing more than perceptions, and we are truly scholars when we can generate knowledge from within ourselves. Of course, we remain grateful to our predecessors, and their perceptions represent certainties that they passed down to us with great effort and sacrifice. However, their efforts, regardless of their monumental nature, are foundational for us today. What matters now is the soul’s ability to transform these certainties into knowledge, through the power of ijtihad, analysis, and critique.
Today’s religious language is often stuck in outdated and archaic expressions. Some of our preachers still use the language and style of 6th-century scholars like Abu-l-Futuh al-Razi, which is difficult to comprehend for modern audiences. Our religious discourse has not yet been rejuvenated with new, dynamic expressions. We often present Arabic texts of the Qur’an and Hadiths to the public in an overwhelming manner, offering little effort to present them in a way that resonates with contemporary audiences. Creativity and innovation in this area have dried up. If any new work is seen in this domain, it is not from religious scholars but from those who lack a deep understanding of the religious core.
After the Islamic Revolution, we have observed that the most ineffective religious propaganda comes from Friday prayers, where the language is too simplistic and the content is superficial. Religious preaching is a responsibility of the Prophets and is primarily the domain of the divine authorities. Anyone lacking expertise in this area should refrain from engaging in it. The Prophets, endowed with divine revelation, did not need to produce knowledge or engage in research, unlike others who must rely on research and the ability to create knowledge to produce effective preaching. Without such knowledge, religious communication cannot be meaningful or effective, and it inevitably leads to misunderstanding and error.
For those who aim to engage in effective religious outreach, writing is the most potent and impactful method of communication. Whether through scriptwriting, storytelling, article writing, or authored works, writing remains the core tool for impactful dissemination of ideas. To become a capable writer, start by taking notes whenever an insightful expression comes to your mind, whether it arises from your own thoughts or from external sources. Later, incorporate these expressions into your writing. Keep writing, and as one of the great scholars said, even if you can’t write anything substantial, write insults just to keep writing, so that this advice and time will not be wasted.
One of the significant challenges of seminary students is the lack of a modern, effective written and spoken language. We often fail to engage with society in a manner that resonates with contemporary, educated audiences. Our discourse is still more suited for rural areas than academic or intellectual circles. The intellectual structure of the seminaries has not adapted to the needs of modern society, leading to a situation where emotional appeals by religious speakers surpass genuine intellectual discourse.
Religious leaders must recognize this need for intellectual innovation and work to reorganize and restructure their approach to academic production. By focusing on writing as a form of outreach, they can ensure that religious discourse remains relevant, impactful, and capable of addressing the challenges of modern society.
These issues are compounded in such a way that in the near future, with the establishment of permanent bases on the internet, access to data and propositions of religious sciences will become easier for the public, and referring to them will be more convenient for people. However, a student (Talabeh) does not possess such a capacity for retention and awareness of the material. What defines a Talabeh is their ability to explain and analyse scientific propositions, their critical thinking skills, and their capacity to create, express, produce, and innovate. The public expects this from them, not merely the recitation of memorised knowledge. With the spread of computer culture, software usage, and the internet, no Talabeh will be able to compete in this field. Religious schools and seminaries must focus on training Talabeh for the production of knowledge and enhancing their expression skills. Their examination system should be based on this approach, rather than on the ability to memorise information. This necessitates a system centred on the teacher, who is capable of discovering the Talabeh’s expressive ability, understanding their potential for independent reasoning (Ijtihad) and inference, and enabling the Talabeh to realise their intellectual and spiritual capabilities, fostering a deep attachment and motivation to learn. The current emphasis on memorisation in seminaries serves no purpose other than distancing students from real knowledge. It is through creativity and production that a Talabeh can shape the future of humanity, understand others, and influence societal thoughts, aligning themselves with the contemporary world.
Let us return to our discussion. You, dear young students, have left your homes and families to embark on this journey of study, living far from your parents, who you could have been with, benefitting from their affection and guidance. You are orphans of the family of the Prophet (peace be upon him). You live in a society where, if someone makes a vow to serve you, there is no support for you. Meanwhile, the management system of the seminaries, which covers tens of thousands of students, should support them and act as their guardian, attending to their financial and marital needs. Currently, fewer families are willing to accept a student as a son-in-law, as Talabehs lack proper support. Some initiatives do not provide genuine support. Naturally, some of our problems relate to knowledge itself. Right now, society values the knowledge of engineers and doctors, paying for it, but does not seem to appreciate our religious knowledge, which is, in essence, memorisation rather than real understanding. People can access the memorised information of religious scholars—without their expert opinions—easily. It is the ability to critique, analyse, explain, and innovate that turns human sciences and religious knowledge into true knowledge. Seminaries currently have little to offer in this regard, making the sale of knowledge unfeasible.
We are located in a country with an Islamic and Shia governing system, offering the best environment for the growth of seminaries. In this context, we must design a global revolutionary model for seminaries. To achieve this, we must first organise the seminary system, which requires a constitution. Seminaries need to establish their own constitution and vision document for governance. They must understand where they stand in the development of science over the next decade, and identify the current and future gaps and weaknesses, moving beyond the personal tastes of administrators and councils to form a principled and rule-based approach.
We previously mentioned that the first step for a Talabeh’s education is the ability to think. Thinking and creating are the driving forces for a Talabeh. Effort, endeavour, and striving to design and organise religious ideas should be the essence of their being, shaping their very structure. We must think about the production of ideas before focusing on propaganda. Our spirit of production is quite weak. We still do not understand the psychology of creativity and production, nor can we design and implement the culture of intellectual production in students. Talabehs should not merely learn to rely on others, but should learn to push themselves and awaken their spirit of innovation. It is through such a Talabeh that we can see the philosophy of Ibn Sina more clearly, and truly embrace the belief that “and above every knower, there is one who knows more.” We have said before that the endurance of concepts depends on having accurate and genuine beliefs. If we struggle with our beliefs and cannot attain valid and sincere understanding, we lose our grasp on conceptual matters.
However, we have also said that our universities are stronger in concepts than seminaries, as students in universities engage in broader studies compared to Talabehs. This is because seminaries are memory-based, and a Talabeh’s time is consumed by memorising lessons, leaving no room to study other books. Consequently, many scholars are unaware of the current world or contemporary thoughts. While a Talabeh may recognise domestic political factions and divisions, they may not be familiar with the world’s leading jurists or mystics, or with the philosophies of foreign thinkers. This is a consequence of memory-centred education systems. It is also important that religious schools provide spaces for engaging with the latest developments in human sciences and the perspectives of scholars in these fields.
In summary, what we have discussed so far is that true knowledge consists of a collection of genuine, justified beliefs that an individual creates and expresses. The hallmark of such knowledge is innovation, whereas focusing only on conceptual or memorised matters is only effective at the educational level, not beyond it. For example, at the educational level, you may say: “Know that the source is the origin of speech,” but at the level of research and independent reasoning, this statement cannot be accepted universally, as, from a realistic standpoint, actions occur in the external world, and the source is a concept derived from it, existing only in the mind. On the other hand, if we take an idealistic approach and suggest that thoughts and mental concepts precede external actions, the source of speech would be considered the origin.
We have repeatedly stated that our seminaries must function like clubs or global arenas, where anyone can freely present their scientific views, and others may critique, defend, or refute them. We should not settle for mere titles like “Grand Ayatollah,” which have become meaningless today. We must have scientific competitions at the level of our senior scholars, not just the students, and centres should present the latest scientific views to religious scholars. However, to achieve this, we must not rely solely on existing journals; we must actively meet with scholars, listen to their latest theories, implement them, and inform others in the field. If such a competitive environment does not exist, empty claims will proliferate. It is this competition that exposes the weaknesses of unsubstantiated claims and eliminates pretensions. In such an environment, the true expert will rise to the top, becoming a model for others and injecting vitality into the seminary system, freeing it from monotony.
Another significant issue with Talabeh education is that the knowledge gained is not practical. For instance, when studying religious texts, the teacher does not demonstrate the real-world application of concepts, such as showing the burial process or the practical aspects of specific religious rites. This lack of practical engagement means that students may memorise laws but lack the practical skills to apply them. When Talabehs study texts, it would be beneficial for the school to provide real-world examples, like performing a sacrifice in front of the students, so they can learn both the method and the specific prohibitions associated with it. Education without practical application is like reading all the rules of road traffic laws without being able to distinguish the brake from the accelerator. The educational system must create an environment that integrates practical learning, so Talabehs are not left to merely memorise but also to apply their knowledge effectively in the real world.
Lastly, the Talabeh system is not specialised. Talabehs aim to learn every field of knowledge, striving to become a comprehensive scholar. However, some religious scholars answer every question, regardless of whether it pertains to fish scales or philosophical concepts, without referring to specialists. A scholar who answers every question without specialisation may be mentally flawed.
In conclusion, the most significant task for Talabehs is to create intellectual gaps within themselves, nurturing them daily. This task belongs to both the individual Talabeh and the seminary. The seminary must provide a supportive structure so that the Talabeh knows their efforts are valued and will not go unappreciated. This is how the Talabeh becomes genuinely invested in learning and knowledge production, doing so out of passion and love for the subject, rather than out of obligation. If this gap is not created early in a Talabeh’s life, they will only be able to build schools or mosques when they reach leadership positions, rather than contributing to the architecture of culture and civilisation. Our seminary’s mission is to build individuals and shape minds, not just physical structures.
Our society is vibrant in the natural sciences, with a dynamic and scientifically engaged youth, while our seminaries are far removed from this energy. Universities promote student marriages, but seminaries fail to offer such support. However, even if such ceremonies were held, they would be criticised, while the achievements of students in other fields are praised. We have no production in Islamic or human sciences, and our ranking in these fields has not improved. This is problematic in a country where the system is based on human sciences, claiming to export culture. Many of our brightest youth enter the natural sciences, while those who are less capable in this regard turn to human sciences, which are often seen as the dumping ground for less able minds. The human sciences have a sad history, with outdated knowledge from thinkers like Ibn Sina and Farabi still dominating the discourse. The seminaries read outdated texts without rethinking or revising them, which limits their role in the production of human sciences.
The key issue with our education system lies in its focus on memorisation, which fails to foster a genuine attachment to learning. This system prevents Talabehs from developing into creative, productive scholars, ultimately leading them to focus on building physical structures rather than intellectual ones.
The ideal models should be visible and serve as examples for everyone. These role models generate a motivation and desire in others to reach the level of their knowledge, not to close the book of knowledge within themselves once an exam is finished. In such cases, if asked to take an exam again after six months, fear and anxiety might take hold of them. Knowledge should be so deeply woven into one’s being that, after many years, it can still be invoked. Knowledge is not about holding a PhD or the title “Ayatollah”; it is about being ready to give a lesson or take an exam at any moment. May God have mercy on the late Ayatollah Agha Reza Hamadani, a renowned scholar and jurist of our time, who, when asked a question and unable to recall the answer, declared that following him was no longer permissible, as he had forgotten. All seminarians should regard themselves as part of a family, and the announcement of grades should never be a cause of embarrassment for anyone. If shortcomings are properly addressed, they can lead to personal growth. Constant concealment brings about inertia and contraction in the soul. Just as sports have competitions, which boost their popularity, there should be healthy competition in the pursuit of knowledge, and every seminarian should, with humility (pardon my choice of words), evaluate themselves: how much stronger or weaker are they with this turban on their head? This comparison should be made for the sake of God, without falling into arrogance or vanity, so that the spirit of ambition and work remains alive and active, allowing them to continually improve and find their permanent place in the blessed station they have reached: “a blessed abode.”
Of course, there is a hindrance in this journey, and that is the pursuit of worldly gain. Someone with a PhD or a “Monsieur” title may use their knowledge for worldly purposes, to earn a living, and see knowledge as a means to serve their worldly desires. But for a religious scholar, the purpose is to understand and propagate religion. Even jurisprudence, principles, mysticism, and philosophy are seen as tools, not ends in themselves. We do not seek to become a compendium of knowledge to answer the existential question: “Then what?” These matters can become the greatest veil, and when knowledge becomes an end in itself, one falls into the traps of arrogance and pride. If knowledge is pursued as an end, one might view their opponents as malevolent and fail to grasp the spirit of “I see only beauty.” They might expect everyone to stand before them in awe and submit. Such knowledge strips one of humility and exposes them to arrogance and pride. I once saw a prominent scholar who, every morning, walked to class without acknowledging anyone, and everyone would greet him. One day, I approached him and refused to greet him, instead saying firmly, “You greet first,” and immediately, he did so. It seemed like a surgical intervention for him, and after that, he always greeted others. It was as though his failure to greet others was a festering wound that was now removed with our sharp words. After that, we too began greeting him. Knowledge should never be an end in itself, and the fundamental distinction between seminarians and scholars of other fields lies in this very point. For others, knowledge is the goal, but for us, it is not. What we have discussed so far pertains to the preliminary stages, like the ablution before prayer. But after acquiring these preliminaries, what is to be done with them? That is a question we will pursue in future sessions. As we have said, knowledge is a worldly affair, much like prayer, which is also a worldly act, and as the narration goes: “I have chosen three things from your world: perfume, women, and the joy of my eye in prayer.” Prayer is regarded as one of the worldly matters. Even prayer serves as a means, not an end, and it should be viewed as a functional tool, not something intrinsic.
Why should we acquire knowledge? Why endure this profound isolation, alienation, and loneliness, feeling the sting of separation from your family and friends, and being excluded from social gatherings where people chat and laugh? Is this all for knowledge? If so, is it not a waste for those of us who have endured this loneliness and pain? This is a discussion we will continue in the next session. God, bless Muhammad and his family.
Well-wishing alone does not suffice. Therefore, the continuation of the verse aims to remove the human being from heedlessness and says: “Indeed, I am Allah, there is no god but Me.” In this passage, God limits and confines Himself, so that no one can claim, like Pharaoh of Moses’ time, Ramesses II, “I am your supreme Lord” (1), and attribute to Himself a sign of greatness. It is only I, Allah. “There is no god but Me” is something that is heard only in quiet, secluded rooms, rooms where there are only books and prayer rugs, and the sorrows and pains that come from these books and prayers. These pains and sorrows must also be tasted with sweetness; for this reason, it says: “Worship Me, and establish the prayer for My remembrance.”
We say that we pray to reach servitude, but this verse is the opposite and says: worship Me, the One who is alone and unique. However, worship and servitude may be forgotten, which is why prayer must be performed to maintain the remembrance of God. Establishing prayer is necessary to preserve and protect servitude from harm and affliction. The station of servitude has an initiating cause, but its permanence requires a preserving cause to ensure that what has been achieved is maintained. Otherwise, like gamers who lose and have to restart, one would waste time and life without any useful output. Maintaining what has been gained is difficult. One should not be like a sick person with diarrhea who, no matter how good the food is, cannot retain it. One must ask God to preserve the gifts He has given, so that they do not suffer harm, for He is the Creator and the Inheritor. He creates, gives, and bestows, and He is the Inheritor who takes.
Here, one might raise a question: If God is the Creator and Giver, why does He take, as taking seems incompatible with His being the Giver? In response, it can be said that He gives and He takes, but He takes so that we do not break what He has given us and preserves it for us. He does not take for Himself, but rather preserves for His servant what He takes so that it remains.
Let us not stray from the point. The need for focus, unity, and the avoidance of distractions is essential for a student. If you paid attention during high school, you may have noticed that some students experience a drop in their academic performance. One of the main reasons for this is that the amount of work in this stage increases suddenly and significantly, and students cannot integrate the various subjects they are learning. In the past, our scholars would not allow a student to enter another field of study until they had mastered one subject. They would not study logic alongside literature. Even at the level of our greatest scholars, this was the case. They were so pure in their dedication that each would imitate the other in their field of expertise, asking for guidance. A jurist would ask a philosopher for advice, and a philosopher would offer teachings to the jurist, or a mystic would provide guidance.
As we have said, the valley of Tuwā requires standing firm, and one must not become heedless and must always preserve the status of servitude.
However, here I would like to remind you of one of the etiquettes that is being forgotten due to the influence and spread of visual media such as television, satellite, and the internet. It is that we do not sleep at night, nor do we honour the night. God says: “Stand in the night except for a little” (1). The essence of the night is to be awake, except for a small portion. The night is not meant for sleep. Sleep should happen before midnight, for anything after midnight is considered part of the following day and is not considered part of the night. Someone who does not sleep before midnight will suffer from many psychological and nervous disorders, including anxiety and memory problems. After the Isha prayer, one should sleep for a few hours, with the exact amount of sleep depending on the individual’s body and personal experience.
The Prophet (peace be upon him) would sleep after performing the Nafl prayer of Isha. He would sleep early, and he had the strength of forty men because he slept well. One who sleeps well and at the proper time becomes strong. But someone who does not sleep at night will have a weak constitution, and their memory and potential will deteriorate.
Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) would get up several times during the night, perform ablution, brush his teeth, and go to the mosque to pray. He would perform two units of prayer and then sleep, waking again to pray the eleven rak’ahs in three different periods of sleep and wakefulness. It was never the case that he prayed all at once.
In our worship, we must not be extreme but should have a good balance. You should be able to eat and sleep well but not excessively. The same should be true for your religious and worldly life, as well as for matters related to the hereafter. You must follow the middle path and avoid extremes. It is natural that when the leader of Medina and the Islamic community, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), would rise three times during the night, the security of that community was ensured. Most coups happen in countries where their leaders are asleep after midnight.
The Prophet (peace be upon him) provided both worship and governance with unity. However, for a student, the connection between worship and politics is not appropriate, and this is for those scholars who have moved beyond the preliminary stages. Everything has its time. What is important for you at this stage is solitude and unity for gathering focus, and we have explained how to achieve this and the conditions for it in a five-volume book titled “The Knowledge of Istikhara.”
Focus is achieved when one does not multitask and follows a single pursuit or area of knowledge. One should not let the opinions of others sway them. We must believe that we are students and not university students or researchers; this is a seminary, not a university.
At universities, bricks can be stacked without ablution, but the bricks here are laid with a special view of the Imam of the Time (may Allah hasten his reappearance). Our predecessors would respect this by removing their shoes upon entering Qom, as they considered it a sacred space. They would ask for permission to enter the shrine of Lady Ma’sumah (peace be upon her), and when leaving, they would depart like travelers bidding farewell, asking for protection from any harm.
A student has a master and a patron, and they must respect him. The student should not walk around carelessly, for they are under the watchful eyes of the master. If the master looks away from them, they will have nothing left.
In our series of discussions with you, we said that knowledge is a process of unveiling, and a student must have a critical but respectful view towards the past scholars. Moreover, we said that a student should compare themselves only to the divine prophets. It is narrated: “The scholars of my nation are like the prophets of the Children of Israel.” While these scholars are not infallible, the prophets of the past were. Because of this issue, people tend to cite another narration: “The scholars of my nation are the inheritors of the prophets.”
We accept this narration because the divine light that God places in the hearts of His chosen ones—these are the scholars of our nation—makes them superior to the prophets of the past, who were often confined to a single region. But the scholars of today can reach far beyond, although our time is one of heedlessness, and the temptations are many. Anyone who, like Prophet Moses (peace be upon him), reaches the station of Tuwā cannot compare themselves to anyone, for such a comparison would be irrelevant.
Our school must be like the valley of Tuwā, and its beauty and cleanliness must be reflected in its walls. Sometimes, I wish to sit in one of these quiet schools and just breathe. The sacred spirit that governs these institutions should be cherished and never neglected. You should inhale the atmosphere of these spaces as much as you can.
In the valley of Tuwā, no one told Moses to pair their shoes. How beautiful would it be if, in the morning, as you walk past your friends’ rooms, you pair their shoes and clean them if necessary? Pairing a shoe can create a bond lasting a century, helping not only the person but their children too. The students are the orphans of the Prophet’s family, and even a small act of kindness towards them brings about great blessings.
The managers of the religious schools sacrifice their time and life for the upbringing of the children of Imam Sadiq (peace be upon him), and this sacrifice is an honor that requires immense purity. When you meet your fellow students, shake their hands warmly, embrace them, and when you encounter each other, show respect as if you are meeting a saint. This is not a café, but the valley of Tuwā.
We should not set rules for each other, but we must respect each other with love. We should not be pleased when someone pairs our shoes; that would harden our hearts. Instead, we should appreciate when someone kisses the hand of a scholar because that is the essence of goodness and purity.
We must value the respect that comes with the turban and cloak. These garments can be held with reverence, and one can swear by them when making supplications. We must know our worth. We did not come to this seminary merely to study; we came to reach the station of divine inspiration, which is the vessel of perfection.
Let us sit for a moment and reflect on what stage we are at. Although divine inspiration still comes with its challenges, God, just as He did with Prophet Moses (peace be upon him), must repeatedly introduce Himself to confirm the belief of even a prophet with a heavenly book.
God tells Moses (peace be upon him): “Listen to what is revealed.” Listening occurs in the realm of loss and difference. This revelation is different from the special revelation given to Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), which is the final and complete form.
We will leave this scientific discussion for another time and return to our point: the comparison of a student to anything else is meaningless. We should not compare this station with anything else, and we should not see ourselves as lagging behind in the mundane world. Instead, as the poet said:
“By God, I am a stranger in this city, with no acquaintance.”
I would say, “By God, I would not give this beggary for any god.”
We live in the time of occultation, a time of estrangement, few allies of truth, and an overwhelming sense of orphanhood and vulnerability for students. Thanks to the Islamic Revolution, seminaries have gained some order, but our predecessors suffered greatly to pass on this Islamic heritage to us. They reached these stations sooner because afflictions bring blessings, and comfort causes heedlessness. Today’s worldly indulgences should be avoided, for they reveal the inadequacies of the soul.
One day, one of the officials told me, “I want good students to hire for my department.” I said, “It is forbidden and an injustice to the seminary to recruit good students. Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his reappearance) is not pleased with this. You must recruit students who can no longer study, students who have dropped out of their studies. Otherwise, keeping strong students is a disservice to the faith.”
Indeed, in the past, a scholar like Sheikh Ansari (may Allah have mercy on him) could have governed the Shiite world, as most people did not even know how to read and write. But today, even university graduates face employment difficulties, and religious scholars wish to lead such people. Naturally, compared to the time of Sheikh Ansari, today’s scholars must be many times stronger than past scholars in knowledge, faith, manners, ethics, and methods. In other words, today’s students must reach at least the level of Tuwā to guide and lead the people of their time.
If you have attained the station of Tuwā, no teacher will seem great to you, and all their knowledge is but a drop compared to the vast ocean of knowledge you possess, which is connected to divine inspiration. This is where the unity of seminary and university arises. Universities expect this knowledge from seminaries, and it is this divine knowledge that attracts universities to seminary scholars. Without this deep knowledge, universities would not have any regard for seminaries, as they see themselves at a higher level.
What distinguishes a scholar from other scholars and endows them with sanctity is the very essence we refer to as the “way of the cleric” or the practice and principles of clerical life, which is in fact the path followed by the divine prophets (peace be upon them). This boundless truth, poured into the being of a scholar, makes them godly, illuminating the hearts of Shia scholars with the light of divine guardianship. The distinction between seminaries and other academic centres, as well as between religious scholars and other intellectuals, lies in this very concept. This affiliation, whether it is external, titular, or formal, or whether it is internal, spiritual, or inherent, grants the seminary students their grandeur and nobility. This nobility emanates from the essence and content present within them, which is referred to as “the way of the cleric.” This term describes the journey, conduct, and spiritual path of a cleric. We elucidate this through the verses of Surah Taha.
In these verses, three general statements are found: “Remove your sandals,” “Listen to what is being revealed,” and “Worship Me, and establish prayer to remember Me.” These three stages follow a specific order, which must be taken into account. If a scholar is sufficiently knowledgeable and virtuous to undergo these stages, they will possess the power to resolve any problem or dilemma.
We regard the Qur’an as a book with a modern scientific structure, and the contributions of academic institutions regarding the Qur’an have been so minimal that they are scarcely noticeable. We have yet to uncover the depths of the verse: “There is nothing dry or wet except that it is in a clear book” (Quran 6:59). In this verse, issues of the philosophy of ethics, ethical philosophy, and psychological topics are addressed, and we will explain some of them here.
We previously stated that these verses do not describe the ultimate perfection but instead address the intermediate level of perfection. The revealed and descending revelation, which is exclusive to the final prophet (peace be upon him), is superior to this stage, although even it is not the ultimate state of perfection.
In these verses, the achievement of human perfection is based on three main principles. The first of these is “Remove your sandals,” which indicates that one must first rid themselves of all worldly attachments and desires. A student, when they reach this stage, should not desire material possessions such as a particular house or car. They should not be swayed by the societal race for wealth. When they see recreational centres, they should not yearn for such luxuries and wish they had the means to indulge in such pleasures. When they find themselves in the solitude of Qom, they should not yearn for the gatherings of family or the festivities of Ramadan or New Year’s. Upon removing their sandals, they should let go of everything and be free from attachments that could disrupt their inner peace. The desires and temptations of youth should not overpower them. Of course, the student must be aware, not naive, in renouncing worldly pleasures. They must understand the sweetness of worldly pleasures and be able to perceive it. They should not simply turn away from them blindly, as this approach could awaken the desires of the soul, burning the very essence of their being.
To be a scholar is to be aware and consciously shed worldly attachments. If these desires are not removed in youth, they may later grow into deep-rooted inclinations that can surface even at the age of eighty, when the strength to remove them will be gone. It is crucial to consciously rid oneself of these attachments, as even small desires, if not dealt with, can eventually grow into powerful forces. This renunciation must come from within, as only self-driven resolve can purify the heart and prevent it from being consumed by worldly distractions. A seminary should not impose harshness like a military barracks; rather, it should provide guidance and a program. The difference between discipline and coercion is crucial, as academic institutions should uphold freedom and honesty. In this space of freedom, worldly attachments must be consciously removed, for if not, they will grow like small bones, and even surgery cannot remove them once they have become deeply rooted.
After shedding attachments, the next stage is “Listen to what is being revealed.” The student must develop the ability to listen attentively. One cannot truly gain knowledge or distinguish between right and wrong without first learning to listen. This listening, however, is not mere hearing; it requires a deep, thoughtful understanding of the teachings being imparted. This listening must be directed at divine revelation and the guidance provided by the Imams (peace be upon them). A student must be able to receive guidance from a mentor, as it is impossible to interpret the Qur’an and Hadith independently without the wisdom of a teacher. A student who rejects guidance from a teacher, thinking they know better, will be lost in both this world and the next. The role of the teacher is not simply to provide information but to act as a guide, as a mentor who nurtures the student’s spiritual and intellectual growth.
Listening in this context is not just hearing from anyone; it is a disciplined listening directed at divine teachings and the words of those who are the true transmitters of revelation. The student must seek knowledge from a mentor who embodies this role and is able to illuminate the path of knowledge. The teacher’s role is vital, for it is through their guidance that the student can reach true understanding. Simply listening to recorded lectures or reading books without guidance is insufficient, as it lacks the depth and transformative effect that a mentor’s personal presence can provide.
Once the student has overcome worldly attachments and learned to listen attentively to divine guidance, they are ready to fulfil the final stage: “Worship Me, and establish prayer to remember Me.” This stage represents the student’s ultimate submission to God, embodying true servitude. Worship, in this sense, does not lead to arrogance; rather, it humbles the individual, stripping them of pride and filling them with the freedom and enlightenment that comes from genuine servitude to God.
This process of self-purification and spiritual development is a gradual one, beginning with renouncing worldly attachments, followed by attentive listening to divine revelation and the wisdom of a mentor, and culminating in true worship. The path of the scholar, the seeker of truth, is thus a journey of self-awareness, spiritual discipline, and unwavering devotion to the divine.
“O Allah, introduce me to Your Messenger, for if You do not introduce me to Your Messenger, I will not recognize Your Proof.”
“O Allah, make Yourself known to me, for if I do not know You, I will not understand Your Prophet, as the Prophet has attained his prophethood through You. This prayer should be recited in solitude, in supplication, and in prostration, as it is a prayer of knowledge. Knowledge, however, is based on the understanding of the essence and truth, not on descriptions or accidents, which is the domain of intellectual knowledge. First, we must discover the knowledge of Allah, and then attain the recognition of those who possess divine authority. Only then should we concern ourselves with the creation of Allah. The duty of propagation is primarily the responsibility of the divinely appointed leaders, not of ordinary individuals. We must first invest in the recognition of Allah, and any effort in other fields without this knowledge is ultimately futile. We must come to the realization that: ‘Allah bears witness that there is no god but He.’ One can only enter the state of servitude once they have recognized Allah in the stage of listening, and one can only stand in prayer after having first found Allah. We do not pray to find Allah, rather, we must have already found Him and then offer our prayers to Him. Such a prayer shines with that recognition.
“We do not pray to find Allah, but we pray for the Allah we have already found.”
Prayer requires intention, and it is only one who has seen Allah beforehand who can make that intention. As the Arabic letters “Qaf” (ق) and “Ghain” (غ) are phonetically similar, and their mispronunciation can lead to a change in meaning, it is often said that one should not pronounce this intention aloud to avoid such a mistake. We have not yet entered into prayer, but we must first make the intention of nearness to Allah. Intention is one of the internal conditions of prayer, just as it is an external component. Intention supervises all the parts of the prayer, and without it, it would not be considered prayer.
True worship in a person is achieved when they distance themselves from worldly desires and have the capacity to listen to the divine and the godly guides. Such worship reaches perfection, and through their guidance, one remains protected from harm and misfortune. A student who only values their studies and has no focus on spiritual matters, or who follows their own desires without being receptive to the teachings and manners of spiritual training, is led astray into greater confusion than any other form of suffering. Sheikh Baha’i (may Allah have mercy on him) gives a good example in this regard. He says that a firewood gatherer, if he burdens himself with too much wood, will be struck by his load and fall to the ground. Similarly, an accumulation of knowledge that lacks the light of understanding can become a veil, increasing a person’s pride, arrogance, and ignorance. Knowledge must go hand in hand with worship and recognition. This is what distinguishes seminaries from universities and other academic institutions. Seminaries cultivate students to be like the divine prophets, reviving within them the power of revelation and inspiration, rather than training them to be mere professors or scholars who conduct research without spiritual purification and who are not recognized as true divine scholars. May Allah have mercy on the late martyr Sheikh Sani, who, in his work “Al-Luma’a,” when discussing Ijtihad (jurisprudence), does not restrict it merely to mastering preliminary sciences, but emphasizes the necessity of possessing a sacred disposition (malakah) to achieve true ijtihad. In the seminaries, there is a certain subtlety; otherwise, any superficial study will eventually crack. Even a communist can learn Islamic sciences, but the difference lies in the absence of the sacred disposition in them. We explain the nature of this “sacred disposition” and the distinction between it and the “station of authority” in our book “The Sociology of Religious Scholars,” which contains points that cannot be found elsewhere.
Final Note:
Today, our scholars study more than their predecessors, and they possess more information. Shaykh Mufid in his time did not have the vast array of teachers and books that we do today. Similarly, Shaykh Tusi, Ibn Sina, and Mulla Sadra also did not have the same level of access to academic resources. Yet, some of our students spend thirty years in advanced studies without attaining the intellectual clarity needed. This can lead them to lose their intellectual sharpness. They resemble the clergy in pilgrimage caravans who, after going to the House of Allah several times, do not gain anything new. Even the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) did not perform Hajj this many times despite His greatness. The hadith that “Our servants and maintainers are the worst of God’s creation” is a reminder of this reality. Drawing near to some of the great figures or divine guides can sometimes lead to problems. We must focus on the quality of our actions, not merely their quantity. You must feel the divine illumination in your being and experience the springs of wisdom and knowledge flowing from within you during your studies.
May Allah grant us inner purity and sincerity of intention, cleanse our hearts from all impurities, and grant us the knowledge to understand the worth of the nights of destiny and not to miss their solitude. May He grant us the knowledge of our duties, our religion, and make us among the supporters, soldiers, and friends of the Imam of the Time (may Allah hasten His reappearance). May our revolution and system be supported and victorious, and may the martyrs and past scholars be enveloped in His divine mercy. Please recite a prayer for the health of ourselves and the peace of the martyrs: “O Allah, send blessings upon Muhammad and the family of Muhammad, and hasten their reappearance.”
The elderly village woman, who weaves carpets with her blistered and calloused hands and gives her khums (religious tax) to the religious authorities, will tomorrow demand that you explain why you have squandered our khums money, enriching your flesh and skin with it, to add to the bricks of your house. I had thought that such funds were meant for the sustenance of the divine servants, not for those of worldly inclination, the disreputable traders of it, nor those who have no dignity in this world or the next. One spends a lifetime studying and sitting facing the Qibla, only to eventually become a teacher, sitting with their back to the Qibla, without having established any connection with the realm of the unseen. How can one, who has no connection with these realms, accept the responsibility of teaching students who are meant to enter the wilderness of inner knowledge and connect with the realms of the divine? Would such a person not lead them astray and increase their own misery?
In any case, in your studies and teaching, you should pay attention to both external cleanliness and your facing of the Qibla, as these are the means by which inner purity and spiritual connection are fostered. Neglecting attention to the divine and immersing oneself exclusively in knowledge for long periods, at the expense of spirituality, leads to an unfortunate outcome for the student. Excess and deficiency, as in worship, are detrimental in the acquisition of knowledge as well. The purpose of the seminary is not simply to acquire knowledge, but to attain wisdom, which involves understanding the details of things, as opposed to knowledge, which gives a general and conceptual description of every matter. Our goal is to be blessed with the vision of God, just as Prophet Moses, a great prophet, desired the vision of God, even though he was not granted it. He became the divine interlocutor and, feeling closeness to God, expressed his longing in the words, “My Lord, show Yourself to me so that I may look at You.” We too must seek a loving relationship with God, and we should not regard the ultimate goal of spirituality and knowledge in the seminary as merely a study of advanced jurisprudence, principles, philosophy, or mysticism. Unfortunately, many students, whom it is better to call worldly clerics, are distracted by superficial matters. Let us not be in a situation where, after fifty years in the seminary, our own children are deterred from knowledge and worship by observing that we have not benefited from them. If one engages in knowledge and worship without gaining any benefit or spiritual insight, they only increase their heart’s hardness and develop a harsh and irritable nature. Knowledge and worship should be like a fountain that cleanses us daily, not like a stagnant, foul swamp that repels everyone around it. And when our age increases, it should not be that our existence bears the fruit of worldly matters. You spend your life in the seminary, only to write a marginal note on “Urwat al-Wuthqa” in the end. What is the result? I remember once being invited to the house of a noble and virtuous man, a friend of ours. When I entered, he was sitting at his desk, writing something. I asked, “What are you doing?” He replied, “I am adding marginal notes to this book,” but he said it in a way that seemed almost like a mockery. I couldn’t help but laugh. He asked, “Why are you laughing?” I said, “It’s nothing, just remembering something from my childhood,” and I thought it best to leave it at that. He insisted, “If you don’t tell me, I will be upset.” I said, “It reminds me of a childhood memory when parents used to give children ten shahis to buy chocolates. Some children would buy long chocolates and lick them. One of them would say to the other, ‘Look, I have chocolate.’ I thought of that child when I saw you at your old age.” He became humbled and declined, realising that what he was doing no longer had any value. Adding marginal notes is like wrestling with the dead, a futile exercise, fighting against those who no longer move or defend themselves.
In the seminary, we should not confine ourselves to these trivialities but should seek love for God. The difference between us and others lies in these two words: we seek God with love. We wish to see Him, speak with Him, and, as Imam Ali (peace be upon him) says: “I would not worship a God whom I do not see.” If a person sees God, it is impossible for them to ever abandon Him. Imam Sajjad (peace be upon him) saw God, and when his head touched the prayer rug, he said: “There is no god but Allah, truly, there is no god but Allah, in faith and conviction, there is no god but Allah, in worship and submission.” And he would continuously mention God as a child speaks to one they adore, not once or twice, but repeatedly. This is the essence of love, the story of devotion. We should not reach a point where, after twenty years or more in the seminary, we become lost and unable to recognise our own path, so that when death approaches, the angel of death finds us face down in this world. But Imam Sajjad (peace be upon him) knew himself when he said: “I am the least of the least,” meaning I am inherently broken, my form and structure are like that. In any case, we should not aim simply to study. Learning is only a means, and we must quickly move beyond it to receive divine inspiration and revelation. We should not extend our period of study unnecessarily, for no one should spend decades only observing their teacher, rather they should soon free themselves from the dependency on the teacher. Of course, a teacher is not the same as a mentor, and one must continue to seek guidance until they reach certainty and the vision of God. Our ultimate goal should be God, not worldly affairs or the propagation of religion.
After God honoured Prophet Moses (peace be upon him) as His interlocutor, He granted him the book to guide others through its study, as He states in the Qur’an: “God said, ‘O Moses, I have chosen you above the people with My messages and My words. Take what I have given you and be among the thankful. And We wrote for him on the tablets of everything, an admonition and explanation of all things. So take it with strength, and command your people to take the best of it. I will show you the dwelling place of the rebellious.'” (7:145–146)
The act of preaching, much like donning the robe of a cleric, is an inevitable part of our work, but it is not the ultimate goal. In these verses, God speaks of written preaching, and we have said that the best form of preaching today is written communication in various forms. Oral preaching and face-to-face communication have limited effectiveness, unless those discussions are transcribed and written, for otherwise, once the session ends, the discussions are forgotten.
These verses highlight that Prophet Moses (peace be upon him) first purified himself before attempting to guide others. Preaching should not be a means to earn the material needs of religious scholars or to fulfill their worldly desires. Rather, it is the duty of those who are truly sanctified and authorised by God to engage in preaching. Preaching should be carried out by learned and experienced scholars, and unfortunately, when scholars become advanced in age and stature, they no longer engage in preaching, leaving it to newer students. Even those clerics who engage with mass media are not the top scholars or jurists in the seminary; they mostly interact with speakers and orators.
We must not forget the higher aim of the seminary: to be in the presence of God and to see Him, so that one reaches a state of vision and understanding, not merely reading the ink of books or staring at the black and white pages. Without a connection to God, it is mere knowledge, which constricts and limits the soul, leading only to darkness in the heart. We should both study and remain attentive, striving for the vision of God. Let it not be that God rejects us, and let us cultivate the practice of closeness, hearing, and seeing Him. We should reach a point where we see nothing but God, perceiving the existence and phenomena of the world through the lens of His Being. A student of the seminary should not be like a grave-digger who spends their life amongst the dead but hears nothing from the deceased or from the jinn they encounter. We must not be among those who, though they hear of God, fail to see Him; they lack a community and a guide. They are oblivious to the Qur’an and have no solitude or purity. We must reach a place where we can say, “We have seen what others have only heard,” and “Every face we see is a reflection of His beauty.” God must be seen with these eyes, as the true mystics and spiritualists of Shi’ism have seen Him countless times. We too can see the beloved, such as Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his return), whom even the Prophets struggled to see. We must not be negligent in our pursuit of knowledge and spirituality in the seminary. In the end, a person should become one who sees God, lives in His presence, and loves Him, with nothing in their heart except Him. We must give the proper importance to the foundational matters and view intermediate matters as such, understanding the higher goal in everything. Knowledge should be pursued, but we must live with God, saying, “Indeed, my prayer, my sacrifice, my life, and my death are for Allah, the Lord of the Worlds” (6:162). Truly, it is a privilege to live with such an understanding.
Today is the final day, the last days. We live in an age of trials, and sometimes, during Ramadan, some people fast, while others do the same on Eid al-Fitr. These are times of deception, even the very seasons play tricks on us. As the poet says:
Without discipline, one cannot become renowned throughout the world;
When the moon grows thin, it becomes a guide for all to see.
This is an era where the rain no longer brings mercy, but rather serves as a form of divine punishment. Earthquakes abound. In this time, the safest places are those dedicated to Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his return), where there is no television, no phone, no wife or child. These times should be cherished. It is said that some students have important questions, and I am here to assist.
In our previous discussions, we addressed some of the issues within the current academic system of the seminary and pointed out that the primary problem is that the true meaning of knowledge is not well understood. This system has been copied from academic institutions. It’s akin to a six-year-old child delivering a speech beautifully, but when I listened to their voice, I didn’t perceive any deep thought; rather, they had merely learned this rhythm and relied on memorised content in their presentation. The seminary cannot adopt a system similar to universities. The certificates currently granted, which follow the university model, represent the most objectionable form of certification. This is because they require dissertations, and in writing such dissertations, what is valued most is the list of references, while we say that true knowledge is one that comes from inspiration and original thought, not merely recounting the opinions of deceased scholars. A student should produce their own compositions, speak from their own experiences, and the world should be willing to buy into that. This means that their work must meet certain standards and be able to provide evidence. In today’s world, guidance and advice cannot be given without offering solid reasoning. However, what is important to note is that, despite all these problems, you are the epitome of a revolution. You possess more capability than your predecessors, and you can overcome these challenges. I have previously explained the mechanics of this and highlighted its long-term objectives.
Question 2: What should we do to reach advanced levels, particularly “jurisprudence”?
To answer this question, I must say that you are studying within the existing system of the seminary. Only those who are familiar with the goal and purpose of seminary studies should enter the field, and they must undergo various psychological tests to assess whether this path aligns with their abilities and interests. The current admissions system should be transformed into a highly selective process. We need to scrutinise the population and select only a few individuals, as mass admissions are incompatible with the academic standards expected of a seminary. We need the healthiest and most virtuous talents. However, the current admissions system admits anyone and does not have precise or scientific filters. Some talents can be nurtured and developed, and this must be considered during admissions. In the seminary, we need individuals who possess a pure nature. This selection process must come from learned scholars, not merely teachers who are competent in their field but lack deeper insight. This issue also exists in government institutions, where representation and parliamentary membership are based on elections and general selection, not specialized and scientific processes. For example, if the Islamic system determined that a person is suited for representation and the role is theirs, yet they refuse, it should have the power to penalise them, as they are the right person for the job.
For instance, if there is only one skilled and seasoned teacher in the seminary teaching “Kifayah” who has taught the course multiple times but no longer wishes to do so, the seminary should have the power to address this issue, as they have failed to meet the requirements of their role. May God have mercy on Ayatollah Golpaygani; he once said that some students should be sent to preach, but when one of the students refused, he replied, “When I was carrying a spade and working in Sheikhabad, why didn’t you check on me then? Now that I’ve become someone, you’ve come after me.” We must learn to operate in a systematic and organised manner. Individual queries and single-handed problem-solving will not be effective for us. This is an academic system that can align minds, hearts, and talents, growing them in harmony.
Question 3: How much sleep does a seminary student need, and how many hours should they study?
I would say that a seminary student must fully observe four key principles: first, hygiene; second, health; third, nutrition; and fourth, exercise.
Maintaining hygiene is more important than anything else. One should not behave in such a way that even in the mortuary, one would disturb the workers there. Health should be prioritised, and proper nutrition is necessary. In terms of nutrition, what matters most is balance, not falling into the trap of comfort-seeking or consuming spoiled food. In winter, for instance, one should not rely solely on the heated air from a gas heater, which is harmful to health, but should also benefit from fresh air outside, particularly from the courtyard of the seminary, which has a soothing and heavenly atmosphere. Breathing in stale air is like consuming decayed food. As for exercise, there is no need to go to the gym or lift heavy weights; a simple daily workout in the corner of the room is sufficient. Anyone who cannot exercise for ten to twenty minutes a day is mentally unwell. These four aspects are the standards for being a healthy person, and there should be no distinction between a seminary student and a non-student in this regard. Studies should not interfere with these priorities. If you fail to dedicate just twenty minutes a day to exercise, and neglect hygiene and nutrition, then when you fall ill, you will spend hours and days in bed recovering your health. Sleep, in turn, balances itself when these four principles are maintained. The amount of sleep can be adjusted and reduced with practice.
Question 4: You mentioned the difference between a seminary student and a cleric. Could you explain this further?
I consider seminary students as orphans of the Prophet’s family (peace be upon him). Seminary students are those who have not forgotten the purpose and goal of seminary life, while clerics are individuals who are clever and crafty, doing whatever it takes to gain worldly wealth, with no sense of chivalry or honour left in them. A seminary student is someone who is committed to both knowledge and practice, regardless of age. They are people of charity and blessings, where even the act of pairing their shoes brings blessings, and they embody the saying “be a source of beauty for us.” They are the orphans of the Prophet’s family, with no one supporting them, whether they are beginners or advanced scholars. The best example of divine grace is serving these orphans, as their selection is not entirely by choice.
Question 5: Do you not consider living in current seminaries a form of seeking comfort and luxury?
Seeking comfort is a lethal poison for a seminary student. Living in these seminaries comes with an abundance of blessings, and too much blessing can lead to neglect and a hardened heart. It’s true that the seminary provides excellent food, but we should not consume it all at once. Seminaries must take care of their students, but the students themselves must be vigilant and not misuse these provisions. The challenges of seminary life, whether from the students themselves or the school administrators, are sweeter. One cannot attain greatness or become strong and steadfast without undergoing difficult and intensive phases. The current facilities are a blessing that helps save time. My apologies, and please forgive me.
O God, grant us a good end, make us among the helpers, lovers, and followers of Imam Ali (peace be upon him). Make us soldiers and companions of Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his return). O God, protect our revolution, our country, and our Shia faith under the care of Imam Mahdi. Strengthen and support the scholars and jurists. Grant the martyrs of the revolution and the veterans, who are the benefactors of this system, abundant blessings and satisfaction. O God, grant us purity, joy, and sincerity, and make us a shining light of faith in both worlds. Guide us to success, as You have guided us to this exalted position. May the prayers and special attention of Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his return) be with us. And hasten the reappearance of our Master, the Imam of the Time.
O Allah, bless Muhammad and the family of Muhammad.

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