The Path of Love (Volume 1)

The Path of Love
(Volume 1)
(قدس سره)
His Eminence Ayatollah Mohammadreza Nekounam

Author: Ayatollah Mohammadreza Nekounam
Title: The Path of Love / Mohammadreza Nekounam
Publisher: Sobhe Farda, Tehran, 1397 (2018)
Volume: 3 Volumes
ISBN (Series): 978-600-397-083-0
ISBN (Volume 1): 978-600-397-082-3
National Bibliography Number: 5277336
Library of Congress Classification: 1397 9s8n / 5/ 153BP
Dewey Decimal Classification: 998/297

Preface
Throughout over sixty years of my life, I have encountered many ups and downs, which has led to a vast collection of diverse and captivating memories. Of course, during this period, I did not hold any significant social positions, and like the majority of society, I lived and taught within its confines. I too, under the regime of the Shah, was pursued and detained by SAVAK (the Iranian secret police), detained twenty-nine times, and after the revolution’s victory, I was constantly under restrictions and detained several times. Our intention was to support and defend the oppressed in society, and we spoke so much in their favor that eventually, we ourselves became part of the oppressed. Thankfully, this allowed us to become the essence and distilled product of society, gaining profound insight into its intricacies and various issues. I have shared this knowledge in my collection of memoirs, which now spans twenty volumes. One volume, entitled The Presence of the Beloved, has been published, and this book, The Path of Love, in three volumes, is another part of this collection.

In presenting the memoirs in this book, I have chosen the same method that I use in my teachings. In my classes, I present my material with great patience. It is said that a person can express their intellectual and doctrinal doubts to God and ask for their resolution from Him. In my opinion, there is no harm in this, although in this world, one should avoid excessive challenges and inquiries, for too much probing may cause tremors that might collapse the roof upon us, as our silent and cautious approach to our teachings has been hindered by such actions. In my teaching, I approach each subject piecemeal, avoiding presenting the whole concept at once. One part of the topic might be discussed today, and the next part might not be addressed for four or five years. Achieving my final conclusions is difficult due to this policy, and if a student lacks patience, they may struggle to comprehend the material. This approach creates a tangled web in every subject, with each fragment, even though seemingly contradictory, ultimately contributing to a unified whole. No part or phrase in these pieces can negate another. I am compelled to adopt this method because, among a group of powerful, superficial individuals and sometimes among ignorant but fanatical people, I must protect myself, and we intend to continue our lives. Therefore, I usually present my discussions in moderation and introduce a knot in each topic, a knot that only the brilliant can untie, as I believe that life, in its jest, is less troublesome.

In the past, bread was wrapped in a cloth and placed on a shelf. The cloth was knotted to keep it out of reach of children. When children felt hungry and found nothing to eat, they would go to the cloth bundles and eat the bread, sometimes with sugar, onions, or herbs. They would untie the knot with their teeth and eat the bread, sometimes with a pinch of salt. The discussions in my lessons and books are similar: easy yet profound, and their simplicity hides deep meanings. But where is the genius that can recognize and untie these knots to reach the core of my thoughts?

All the memories mentioned in this book are based on my direct experiences. I do not relay second-hand information but instead recount what I have seen and lived. I do not enjoy telling stories of what I have heard, nor do I have any belief in speaking in such a manner, nor can I fabricate memories artificially. I am a natural and spontaneous person in my work and activities, and my disposition is such that I do not perform artificial or superficial acts. If a task were artificial and I were told, “Drink a glass of water so we can take your picture,” I would not be able to do it.

One of my ethical traits is that I speak according to the capacity of my audience, and I have kept this in mind when writing these memoirs. I will present my more detailed memories at the appropriate time, perhaps two decades from now. In any case, I never share something beyond the audience’s capacity. In my classroom, I consider how much material to present to the students, how deep to go into a topic, and how precise to be in that discussion. This is why my conclusions are often elusive and require patience and perseverance. Therefore, these lessons, discussions, and even my written works are not suitable for those with little patience. I speak differently to different people. In reality, in my speech and discussions, I am not the standard; rather, I focus on and adapt to my audience. Much like an automatic washing machine that adjusts the amount of water needed, I too have an automatic mechanism within me that controls how I deliver content. My work, lessons, discussions, writings, and even my memoirs are more authentic and tied to the realm of truth. My goal is to solve problems and address human struggles, and I have spent my life in this pursuit. When I speak of history and the stories of the past in this book, I do so in a way that cannot be found in other books or heard from anyone else, for we represent those years as they truly were and bring them to life through words. While recounting these memories, I sometimes joke and make remarks intended to bring a smile and joy to believers. There is no harm in such lightheartedness in speech. Some of my remarks must be seen as symbolic, and one should not take them literally or criticize me based on these comments.

Praise be to God.

Chapter 1: The Master of Love

I remember my childhood with a mulberry tree, from which I used to climb. The distance between us and my inner teacher, Ms. Gelin, was approximately the same as the distance between here (the seaside school) and the door (the eastern door of Feyziah, about thirty centimetres). My childhood lasted this way until I was ten. The value of these few years of my life is such that it is worth several hundred years. I was simple and unadorned, much like an infant, and during these years, I was blessed with many high-ranking mentors. I had no knowledge of the reason or manner of their presence. Our house was in the neighborhood of Nafraabad, in the city of Rey. You can imagine where the Sarcheh Bazaar is, and where I lived. The occurrence of such events is not related to the individual; it has nothing to do with them. In my specific context (not in the general sense), the ascetics of the divine realm have no material existence. The more I compare them to the scholars and the great figures I encountered later, the more I recognise the rank and grandeur of those mentors. These events are like a divine charge, as though God is empowering a person, and it is God who orchestrates everything, all due to the necessary circumstances. There were many people there, for instance, my first teacher in my childhood was a wise, faithful, and pious woman named “Gelin-Khanum.” I mistakenly referred to her as “Gilim-Khanum” due to the language of childhood. One day, a Turkish friend told me that her name “Gelin-Khanum” meant bride, which was a mistake regarding her name. I later realised she wove carpets. Some events occur according to circumstances. It is as if, suddenly and unexpectedly, you are recharged, given strength, and energy.

My problems, according to divine decree, are based on these circumstances, but they are neither deterministic nor fully in the realm of free will. They are rather a manifestation of divine love and mercy. God shows kindness to human beings. Many people can accumulate such blessings, but they lack patience and endurance, so they abandon them and do not reach their destination. This, however, does not apply to me. The reason is the love that is its own world.

Unfortunately, there is no appropriate environment to discuss such matters, and the heavy veil of material existence has caused everything to be forgotten. I was a child when I first fell in love. Indeed, I am still in love. Later, I fell in love again. When I fell in love again, I could no longer see the book I was studying. I studied from night until morning, to the point where I felt my eyes were becoming blind. No matter how much I opened my eyes, I could not see the words in the book. Near morning, a class was held, and attending that class was of great importance to me. In the early morning, I was angry and reopened the book repeatedly. I gave myself a sharp slap, and in the blink of an eye, I finished the contents of the book. That love, I forgot. It was as if, in just one night, I suffered all the hardships. Though it was just one night, I felt as though I had been in torment for an entire year.

Today, everything I observe as the blessings of God in my life is the result of my childhood love. All my life bears the mark of love, in fact, my life is love, and my heart, faith, and religion are love. I have composed nearly twenty volumes of poetry, the fruit of my childhood love. I have written over seventy thousand verses, which are the result of that one night in my childhood and the love derived from it.

As a very small child, I saw “God.” After that, the opinions of others had no meaning for me. In everything people said about God, I saw nothing new. Ninety-five percent of the content of my poetry comes from God. The remaining five percent relates to the Imams (the infallible ones), namely God’s friends and close ones, or to advice, counsel, and criticism of the oppression of God’s creation. What can I do now? What I have seen is constantly before me. If someone were to calculate, they would find that I have repeated thousands of times in my lessons, “O God, introduce Yourself to me.” What has happened to me is just that, and I say again: “If You do not introduce Yourself to me, I will not know Your Prophet.” If I do not see God, who is His Prophet? This passage suggests that without God, the Prophet must carry his burden and leave. It is true that the Prophet has brought the message, but from whom? The Prophet, a miracle worker, brings the message, but what is the result of it? The Prophet came from Him. But who is He?

The scholar is the scholar of love and nothing else. There is neither determinism in the world nor free will to realise it. Everything is love and necessity—necessity that sometimes manifests as divine kindness, mercy, and love. However, everything is accounted for, precise, and nothing occurs without a measure. The calculation is fine, subtle, and intricate, and cannot be understood by ordinary human thought.

A person must, at first, see God and believe in Him. If their belief is weak and flawed, it will result in negligence. When a person doubts God, they are not reliant upon Him, and do not believe that all things are in His hands. If a person believes that all things are in God’s hands, even if, for example, their throat is slit, they will not flinch. Indeed, who could have the power to endure such an ordeal? Sometimes, beliefs are so weak that if, as the saying goes, one holds their ear, they will harm themselves. If a person is in good financial standing and has no problems, they may speak of God, though it may be insincere, for they would be idle about it. But if that same person faces hardship or disaster, life becomes difficult for them, and they begin to criticize God and demand from Him. Yes, speaking of God is of such a nature—it remains in words, not in deeds. Many people lose hope in the midst of difficulty. This is a troubling and dangerous matter. Before we begin studying, we must correct our beliefs about God and resolve the theological issues concerning Him. Of course, God must grant the ability to humans to be empowered in this matter.

When I was a child, I visited God. I tucked my shirt into my trousers, rolled up my sleeves, raised my little hands, and said to God, “Do whatever You can do!” I heard the reply, “Can I do whatever I want?” I was initially frightened, and it seemed as though I regretted it instantly, expecting some consideration and care. This was a serious question, and I had to put limits on it. In fact, I was beginning to lose the game. Either I should not have challenged Him, or I should have resisted. I practiced a great deal, and in the end, I became humble before God. Finally, I said, “Do whatever You wish, I will not abandon my love for You, and I will always seek You. Even if You cast me into the depths of hell, I will still be in the realm of love there.”

The closer one gets to God, the more they understand His greatness and their own insignificance. This is the true God, and if God were to experience helplessness or incapacity, He would no longer be God. However, the rule is that it is we who must not become helpless, and God must not relent. Because He does nothing except by love and for good.

When you are about to leave through the door of Feyziyeh, you turn back and greet. Is there an Imamzadeh (tomb of a religious figure) here, or have you gotten into the habit of greeting when you leave through such doors? I said, neither is there an Imamzadeh here, nor is this an action I do out of habit. However, when one is about to leave Feyziyeh, one can’t help but think about how many great religious scholars, full of wisdom and piety, have studied and lived here. You return and greet them all—alive or deceased—perhaps even greeting oneself. Surely, one must find a deceased soul to greet! When leaving Feyziyeh, one’s attention often turns to all the learned and noble souls who have walked these halls, studied here, and attained spiritual heights. If one reflects on all these great figures who have been here, often with qualities hidden from the public eye, and even on oneself, a sense of purity and peace is instilled. In this reflection, one might even greet God in the way one is meant to when going to bed. How wonderful it would be for one to wake up and say: “Peace be upon you, O God. Peace be upon you, O Messenger of God.” Is there any problem with greeting God?

One should greet all people as well. May God have mercy on the late Ayatollah Elahi Qomshahi. When I used to walk in the streets with him, he would greet everyone, from the young to the old. One day, I told him: “Master, it’s not good. Let people greet you.” He replied, “I am an old man and a scholar, and I have spent my life striving. How can I let the seventy rewards of greeting go unshared, when sixty-nine of them could reach the young ones who, like me, have not struggled or studied?” It is only fair that I greet them and receive sixty-nine of those rewards. When I lived near the icehouse of the judge, I used to come to the shrine at 9 AM for teaching, and Mr. Seyed Ahmad Khatami, who had a class at 8 AM, would cross paths with me after his class. He would keep to himself and not greet anyone, which made me uncomfortable. One day, when I met him, I loudly urged him to greet me. He unintentionally replied, “Peace be upon you,” and after that, I noticed he started greeting everyone. From that day on, I would greet him and sometimes even prevent him from greeting me. Someone who does not return a greeting is unjust; they have neither human manners nor religious character.

In the pure and sacred atmosphere of Feyziyeh, divine saints and scholarly figures have breathed life into this place and have maintained their love for it. How could the Imam of the Time not have attention here? If a student is not heedless of this, they will organize their life, striving not to disturb the Imam, not asking anything from him, but focusing solely on not causing him any distress.

May God have mercy on the late Ayatollah Morteza Haeri, a pious scholar. He once said, “I saw the Imam of the Time in a dream. He was very sad. I asked him if he was pleased with the seminaries and the students. The Imam replied, ‘If I were not pleased, what could I do? There is no one else, they are all I have.'” Nonetheless, one must never forget this relationship. Students are affiliated with the Imam of the Time, and this relationship is more valuable than any worldly knowledge. Yet, this very relationship burdens them and may even cause distress to the Imam if they act inappropriately.

Chapter One: The Return

When the time of the return of those great figures arrives, we will also appear and convey our words. I have specific thoughts that have never had the opportunity to be expressed, and I have kept those thoughts hidden. The Ahlul Bayt (the Family of the Prophet) are foremost in the return, and their followers are their subordinates. We, too, following them, appear and express our thoughts, and after our return, the Day of Judgment will be established by the Almighty. When I speak of the time of our return, it is a time when we convey our exclusive thoughts, and the era of return is one where each individual brings their own innovations, and no one speaks of the same things. Of course, innovation follows the companions and the present era. It is inevitable that some thoughts are complex and require deep understanding.

For example, who is the supreme pen? Amir al-Mu’minin (the Commander of the Faithful), in the time of the return, will clarify such matters. He has made many promises and has passed from this world. We, too, sometimes make promises, and in fact, we imitate and follow Amir al-Mu’minin. If he were to appear and establish his words in the time of the return, or even in the arena of the Day of Judgment, we too would confirm our statements. Truly, who is the supreme pen? It seems that knowing this in our time is of little importance, and it should be left for the people of the era of the return.

Chapter Two: The Qur’an; The Vision of Specific Knowledge

The Qur’an

I have always loved reciting the Qur’an since my childhood. I was very young when I first felt this way. I was deeply passionate about the Qur’an and its recitation, yet I lacked the ability to do so properly. It was during the time of the Pahlavi regime, and the first pages of our schoolbooks talked about Mohammad Reza Shah and his wife, Soraya. At that time, Soraya was the wife of Mohammad Reza Shah. My classmates and I would discuss the Shah and his family. The children would say that the Pahlavi family frequently remarried and that this was an exception; there was no issue with their actions, but if ordinary people took a second wife, there would be a commotion. I would write the verses of the Qur’an in small, fine handwriting in the pages of my books and recite them. In fact, my love and passion led me to recite the Qur’anic verses in this way. Since I was still a child, I wasn’t familiar with Arabic words and didn’t know their meanings. Essentially, I lacked proficiency in terms of words and letters, but I had an affinity and closeness to the meanings and concepts of the Qur’an, and I could sense those meanings. A person must be aware and knowledgeable of themselves. Later, when I studied Arabic literature, I became confident in it, but I still found that true knowledge of meaning was of greater depth. Being learned in the field of meaning and concepts does not help much, and a person still suffers from the deficiency of words and phrases.

As a child, I studied music and was engaged in learning various musical scales and vocal techniques. For example, the mode “Abu Ata” begins with an introduction, progresses into a transition, and reaches a peak before descending again. I would take notes on my music lessons and wrote the word “peak” (Ouj) incorrectly, using the letter ‘Ayn instead of ‘Alef. Later, when I gave my notes to someone for editing, they objected to my writing of “peak.” I explained that when I was studying music, I was a child and had little literacy. This was why I had written the word incorrectly. The person remarked that it was interesting how I had written this musical term incorrectly.

When I was a child, I had a teacher who had migrated from Iraq to Iran and did not speak Persian fluently. He misread the Persian word “gazan” (deer) as “gozan” because of its Arabic form. Despite this, the school officials had employed him as a teacher. Unfortunately, nepotism had been a common phenomenon in those days as well. May God have mercy on the late Mr. Elahi! We were close, and sometimes we would sit together and converse. He would recall his childhood when Mr. Mirza Reza Qomshi taught philosophy in the town of Shahreza, but he couldn’t comprehend it. Nonetheless, he loved this subject and enjoyed listening to the lessons, so he would stand outside the classroom and listen, as he was prevented from entering. This was the nature of the late Mr. Elahi’s childhood, which eventually led him to such high achievements.

In any case, I spent most of my childhood in close association with the mosque and the Qur’an.

We had a radio at home. Our radio had many lights. My father only listened to the news, then turned it off and placed it on a shelf that was out of my reach when I was a three-year-old child. I was fascinated by how the man and woman speaking on the radio could fit into this small box. The lights also attracted me. One day, I moved a chair used for monthly mourning ceremonies, placed it near the shelf, took the radio, turned it on, and tried to find where the voices were coming from. However, I couldn’t figure it out. Around that time, I also visited the cemetery, wondering how the deceased managed to breathe when they were buried, as they were still alive in some way.

During those years, I also wondered how birth certificates grew. I saw people looking at them and saying, “This person is two years old.” I did not know whether the certificates grew by themselves or whether they were updated.

In the same summer, I was walking towards the cemetery at night when I found a ten-shahani coin on the ground. I picked it up, not knowing what money was or why it had value. I examined it and threw it on the ground, wondering if the sound it made had any value. However, I could not comprehend what the value of money was, but I had an innate understanding of the Qur’an and its verses.

From a very young age, I was fond of the Qur’an. May God have mercy on the late Mr. Elahi Qomshi. He used to say that from his childhood, he had an attraction to wisdom, philosophy, and mysticism. When I was a child, Mr. Reza in Darchi, Qomshi, was teaching philosophy, and I loved the subject so much that even though I didn’t understand it, I would stand outside his class and listen to his teachings. Though I didn’t understand what was being said, I loved the fact that he was teaching philosophy. Just as the late Mr. Elahi Qomshi had an early attraction to wisdom, I had a similar affinity for the Qur’an from my childhood. The Qur’an had a magnetic pull that drew me towards it and made me want to engage with it:

“If the lover has not been drawn by the beloved, the efforts of the poor lover will lead nowhere.”

To properly engage with the Qur’an, one must befriend it and connect with it. The recommended method of engaging with the Qur’an is to place it in front of oneself, be in a state of purity, and sit facing the qibla (the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca). In such a position, the Qur’an will inspire understanding of its verses. If someone manages to develop a bond with the Qur’an, they will find themselves in the presence of the true essence of the book and will be blessed with its knowledge. In this case, the Qur’an will read itself to them rather than the person reading it. The path to accessing the Qur’anic teachings is proximity to this heavenly book, not memorising its verses. I have used this method more than any other. I place the Qur’an on my heart, and through that, I feel peace, just as a mother feels when she lovingly holds her child to her chest. Every time I place the Qur’an on my chest, I feel that it is reading me. When I speak, my unconscious mind conveys Qur’anic teachings because of the connection that has been formed.

The Impact of the Educational System and the Role of the Quran in Personal and Societal Development

The educational system today instructs students to sit down and simply write assignments based on a certain lesson, repeating it mechanically. After the revolution, the educational system has squandered entire generations through such significant flaws. I have formulated the necessary foundations for an educational system that promotes Qur’anic knowledge, but unfortunately, I find myself in a state of alienation. Even the small portion of my writings that were published after great difficulty has been gathered and, with malicious intent, misused. This is the end result of a society that has lost its values to such an extent that it can no longer even recognise them. If the current process of domination were correct, such negative and forceful interactions with us would not have occurred. Instead of suspending our tafsir (interpretation) lessons, they would have supported us to gather all the criticisms and objections that are raised against the Qur’an in the world, so that we could study and analyse them in our lessons and defend the sanctity of the Holy Qur’an. Yet today, much like Amr ibn al-As, who placed Qur’ans on spears, some have disguised their whims as religious acts, using media empires under their control to present them as if they were based on the sacred name of Shari’ah and the Qur’an, even though their actions are so debased that even their own followers now refer to them as “deceitful.”

Today, in this prison where I am held captive, I sigh deeply as I reflect on the essence and meanings of the Holy Qur’an. For me, nothing but the Qur’an brings a cold sigh. Since my childhood, I attended Qur’anic sessions, where I engaged in reciting and properly intoning the Qur’an. I used to complete the Qur’an in eleven and a half hours. Each part would take about twenty minutes. In this recitation, my speed did not hinder my focus but actually enhanced my attention to the meanings. From the age of ten, I taught the rules of Tajwid (the correct pronunciation and intonation of the Qur’an). My voice was very beautiful as a child; however, I also have bitter memories from that time. I was a teenager with an excellent recitation of the Qur’an, unmatched in Tajwid. As I mentioned earlier, at eleven years old, I had a Tajwid class. For example, the father of Mr. Rishahri and some of the older men of that time attended this class. I have known Mr. Rishahri’s father and uncle since childhood and am familiar with their stories. However, every time I read the Qur’an, the religious leader who was in charge of the session would say “A’id,” meaning “repeat.” This was despite the fact that no one could match my recitation in beauty or accuracy. My teacher, the late Mr. Asna’ishari, a Qur’anic scholar, recited the Qur’an extremely quickly. He recited so fast that if I tried to match his speed, my mouth and jaw would be harmed. I insisted on maintaining the same speed as his. Sometimes, he would tease me, saying, “Go ahead for three pages, don’t bother yourself.” Essentially, when I recited, he would say, “Just flip through three pages.” He would ask, “Did you miss this verse? Quickly move on to the next.” I could not tolerate his teasing. I practiced so much and exerted pressure on my jaw and mouth that I eventually surpassed him in speed. In fact, by doing so, I “struck him” with my recitation, as he had mocked me. I completed the Qur’an in eleven and a half hours, a success that I attribute to the grace of that divine spirit. Completing the Qur’an in this time felt like reciting the words of sanctity and holiness.

Of course, I can no longer perform such feats. I no longer possess the ability to do these things. At that time, I had the innocent mindset of a child, and I thought I was just playing when I began reciting the Qur’an. Now, it takes but the blink of an eye for one to realise that a heavy stone has fallen upon their head, and their life has ended. Was it not better to have spent one’s time in reciting the Qur’an?

At the same Qur’anic recitation sessions where I used to recite from memory, some of the reciters would not know the correct vowel sounds of words, such as whether a word had a “fat-ha” or “dhamma” (vowel marks). As a result, they would recite words like “murar,” not distinguishing whether it was to be recited with a “fat-ha” or “dhamma.” This would obscure their mistakes, making them hard to detect.

During those years, I also competed in the great Qur’anic recitation contest with figures like Mr. Zibihi, whose beautiful recitations of supplications during Ramadan were broadcast on the radio, helping the people break their fast. Although I had such abilities, the religious leader I mentioned, based on his personal preference, considered maturity a condition for reciting the Qur’an. He believed a child could not recite properly. I was deeply troubled by this opinion, particularly since esteemed Qur’anic figures were present at those sessions. When the teacher said “A’id,” meaning “repeat,” I felt ashamed and humiliated. I thought to myself that I must improve my recitation, and this method was not beneficial. I eventually progressed in my recitation to the point where I could say that no one, under the sky, had mastered Tajwid as I did, at least before the age of eleven. However, Mr. A’id remained my teacher, and I thought to myself that I needed to learn to articulate words in such a way that my recitation would reach this level.

In all my writings, which number in the hundreds, I have always referred back to the Qur’an as my primary source. On the pulpit, I would only speak from the verses of the Qur’an, as repeating the Qur’an is something truly cherished. I have the ability to extract the psychology of anything from the verses of the Qur’an. I would share this Qur’anic psychology with the people from the pulpit. Before the revolution, I sometimes delivered as many as thirteen or fourteen sermons a day in one city, and many people attended these sermons. I would interpret a different verse in each session so that the topics would not become repetitive, ensuring the audience stayed engaged.

Among the many books I have taught, including those on literature, jurisprudence, mysticism, philosophy, sociology, economics, and psychology, none held the appeal that the Qur’an did. It is only when I spoke about the Qur’an that I felt true joy. I have used and worn out more than fifty copies of the Qur’an. The Qur’an has been my passion. Despite having had great teachers in literature, like the genius Nisheburian writer and the pious Mr. Qomshahi, or philosophers like Aristotle of our time, such as the late Mr. Shirani, or figures like Mr. Burojardi, who was like a prophet in Tehran, none of these compare to the depth and light that the Qur’an brings. The Qur’an is a timeless book that continuously reveals meanings and provides guidance. I have understood the prophethood of the messengers and the revelations that follow them, as they appear in Imam Khomeini’s works, through the Qur’an.

Revelation, of course, is the prophetic revelation, not the legislative revelation which was also given to the mother of Prophet Moses. Prophetic revelation is endless. It is a human attribute, like poetry, which emerges in some individuals. Revelation is not confined to the Prophet alone; it is an attribute that others can also experience. Over time, human understanding of this revelation can bloom. Just as the knowledge of God is infinite, the words of God are endless, and the guidance of the Prophets continues to unfold over time.

The students are told to sit down and copy a particular lesson. The educational system after the revolution has wasted several generations with these gross mistakes. I have compiled the essentials of the educational system and the promotion of Quranic knowledge, but unfortunately, I have fallen into a state of isolation, and even the small amount of my writings that were published with great difficulty has been collected and, with a noble intention, turned into paper. This is the fate of a society that has lost its values to the extent that it no longer has the ability to recognise its own values and does not know them. If the current hegemonic trend were correct, such a negative and coercive response would not have occurred, and instead of suspending our exegesis lessons, they would have supported us so that we could gather all the questions and criticisms that the world raises against the Noble Quran, analyse them in our lessons, and defend the sanctity of the Quran. However, today, just as Amr ibn al-As raised the Qurans on spears, those with their own desires have cloaked them in the guise of religion and paraded them on their spears, displaying them through the media empires they control, hiding behind the name of Sharia and the Holy Quran. Although their actions have become so blatant that even their own followers now describe it as ‘deceitful’.

In this wilderness where I have been confined, I bring forth the breath of the Quran and its meanings with a sigh. For me, nothing other than the Quran holds meaning; nothing else but a cold sigh. From childhood, I participated in Quran recitation sessions and memorisation. I could complete the Quran in eleven and a half hours. Each Juz took about twenty minutes. During this recitation, because I was fast, my speed did not prevent me from paying attention, but instead, it enhanced my focus on the meaning. Since I was ten, I was teaching Tajweed. My voice in childhood was very beautiful and melodious; however, I have a bitter memory of it. As a teenager, I was exceptional in reciting the Quran and perfect in Tajweed. As I mentioned, when I was eleven, I had a Tajweed class. For instance, the father of Mr. Rishahri and some elderly men of that time attended this class. I have known Mr. Rishahri’s father and uncles since childhood, and we know their stories. Whenever I recited the Quran, the cleric who was managing the session would say, “Read again,” while no one else could recite as beautifully and correctly as I did. My teacher was the late Mr. Asna’ashari, the author of a tafseer (exegesis). He recited the Quran very quickly, to the point that if I wanted to recite like him, my jaw and mouth would hurt. I insisted that my recitation speed match his. Sometimes he teased me, saying, “Go ahead, three pages, don’t trouble yourself.” This meant that when I recited the Quran, I should simply turn three pages ahead. He said, “Did you pass this verse? Then move quickly to the next verse.” This was unacceptable to me, and I couldn’t tolerate his mockery. I practiced so much and put such pressure on my jaw and mouth that I surpassed him in speed. In fact, by doing this, I almost defeated him, as he had mocked me. I was able to finish the Quran in eleven and a half hours, a success I attribute to the grace of that righteous soul.

At that time, my recitation felt like constant dhikr (remembrance), so much so that as soon as I held the Quran, my recitation would be completed. Of course, I no longer have the ability to do this; I simply can’t do such tasks anymore. Back then, I had a childlike mind. I thought I was playing, and then I began reciting the Quran. Now, it feels like the snap of a finger, and one might see a rock falling on their head, plunging them into a ravine, and in that instant, their life ends. Would it not have been better to have spent that life reciting the Quran?

In those recitation sessions where the Quran was memorised, sometimes some of the reciters did not know the diacritical marks of a word, for example, whether it had a fathah or a dhammah. As a result, they would recite it incorrectly, saying, “Mawra”, without distinguishing whether the word was in the nominative or accusative form. They would make errors in the vocalisation, which was not immediately obvious.

I once competed in a major Quranic recitation contest against figures like Mr. Zabihi, who, during Ramadan, would recite beautiful supplications that listeners would listen to while having suhoor and fasting. Despite having such abilities, the cleric I mentioned had a personal preference and considered maturity a condition for recitation, saying a child could not recite. I was greatly disturbed by his clerical preference, especially since the elders and notable Quran reciters were present in that session. When the teacher said “Read again”, I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I thought I needed to correct my recitation because this method wasn’t beneficial. However, I progressed so much in Quran recitation that I can confidently say no one under the sky could perform Tajweed as well as I did, at least until I was eleven. Of course, Mr. ‘A’id (my teacher) remained my teacher throughout this period.

In my research, I always considered the Quran the primary reference. On the pulpit, I only spoke about Quranic verses, as speaking about the Quran was delightful. I have the ability to uncover the psychology of anything from the verses of the Quran. On the pulpit, I would explain the psychological insights of the Quran to people. Before the revolution, I would sometimes have thirteen or fourteen sermons in a day in a single city, and some people would attend most of them. In each sermon, I would explain a different verse so that the topics wouldn’t repeat, and the audience wouldn’t become bored.

Among the many books I have taught—ranging from literature, jurisprudence, mysticism, philosophy, sociology, economics, and the like—none have attracted me as much as the Quran. I have used over fifty Quran copies in my life. The Quran has been my true passion. Despite having teachers like the genius of literature, Adib Nishaburi, and the pious Wali; and great philosophers like Agha Shahrani and Agha Bujurdi, none of them have ever captivated me like the Quran. The Quran is a book that is always “online,” continuously revealing meanings, providing guidance, and offering mercy and good tidings to believers.

When I leave my house, I always have a Quran with me. I only need one Quran for my sermons and do not require any other book. Indeed, the Quran is a book that requires companionship with a teacher to truly understand and connect with it. Without the guardianship of the Commander of the Faithful (Ali), one cannot truly engage with the Quran, and without the Ahl al-Bayt, one cannot benefit from it. Unfortunately, even in the seminaries, the Quran is treated as a marginal subject, not a primary one. The teachers who claim to teach it are often unable to truly engage with it.

Sadly, the Quran is neglected, and we do not have a faculty of Quranic and prophetic sciences. Instead, we are trapped in the kindergarten of Quranic studies. Moreover, due to the superficial work being done in the name of the Quran by the unskilled, society’s appetite for this divine book is dulled. When people hear these meaningless interpretations, they feel disillusioned, as the supposed explanations have no depth. The Quranic community today is facing a content crisis, with little more than recitation, memorisation, and some occasional exegesis being practiced.

The most significant work I have done regarding the Quran is the extraction of its psychological discussions. The psychological works I have written in this field, which I call the “Moderate Psychology” style, total more than fifty volumes. You will not find anyone in Europe or the West with such an approach to scientific psychology. Our psychology not only addresses mental issues but also focuses on the human soul.

The path to perfection, which God has set as the path of proximity, salvation, and servitude to Him, is through the guardianship of the Commander of the Faithful. Since Islam has strayed from the path of the Commander of the Faithful for over fourteen centuries, the movements of Islamic nations have faltered, and fifty Islamic countries have become stagnant. Just as Islam cannot be understood without the Commander of the Faithful, the path to perfection cannot be realised without the Quran and its divine knowledge. All knowledge is contained within the Quran. Philosophy, mysticism, jurisprudence, and all other sciences must bow to the Quran’s wisdom. Without this, they are dead ends and will not lead to purity of heart, clarity, or true success.

In all my lessons, I have always started with the Quran. In the fifty years of my teaching, there was only one day when I considered starting a lesson with a Hadith. However, something happened that prevented me from attending the class that day. It was a rare and unique event. I consider this divine guidance. This guidance, like many others, shows that one cannot stray from the Quran, and this deviation itself is an error.

Quranic Terms in Each Science: A Special Terminology

In every field of knowledge, Quranic terms have their own specific meanings. In Istikhara (the practice of seeking divine guidance through prayer), each word from the Holy Quran signifies a particular meaning, and one should not be oblivious to this significance. The language of Istikhara has its own distinctive vocabulary, and each word acts as a key that unlocks a specific symbol or conveys a point. This is a conventional language that is highly regulated, with its own literature and grammar, and it is not always directly connected to the interpretative meaning of the verse. This language accommodates many facets of meaning and is enigmatic in nature, with the interpretation of these symbols being linked to the reader or seeker of knowledge. The seeker serves as the tool for discovering these meanings, and the Holy Quran provides all these secrets, symbols, and terminologies to the true companion and confidant.

This book explains that Istikhara has its own principles and rules, which must be understood before engaging in it. A person who wishes to perform Istikhara must be familiar with its principles and rules. A person who is unable to analyse the divine verses in relation to Istikhara should not perform it for others, as doing so may lead others to confusion, misguidance, and misfortune in the most essential matters of their lives. This could result in deserving retribution and punishment in the afterlife. One must perform Istikhara only if they have a clear understanding of the matter before God and are not ignorant of the principles and foundations of Istikhara. Like the science of interpretation and other esoteric sciences, Istikhara is a complex and challenging field, and it is not appropriate for anyone to assume responsibility for it unless they are truly authorised by God.

Unfortunately, the current wave of custodians has taken a negative stance toward this very book, collecting and destroying all of it.

Chapter Three: The Resources of Transcendent Tradition

Chapter Three: The Resource of Tradition

Familiarity with Narrations

The first person who introduced me to the narrations of the Ahl al-Bayt (the family of the Prophet) was a very wise and pious lady, “Lady Glen.” She was the teacher of our traditional school. An elderly lady, ninety years old, she was my first terrestrial and physical teacher. She taught us narrations from the Nahj al-Fasahah that I found very appealing. Even now, sometimes at night, these narrations come to my mind and bring back memories of my childhood. Most of these narrations were from Nahj al-Fasahah. Some of the narrations I particularly liked are as follows:

• “The Muslim is one from whom other Muslims are safe from their hands and tongue.” [10] – The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said: “A Muslim is one from whom people are safe from their hands and their tongue; someone who does not harm others.”
• “Be merciful to those on Earth, and the One in Heaven will show mercy to you.” [11] – This teaching encourages us to help and be compassionate toward people on Earth so that divine mercy will be bestowed upon us. Only by fostering a connection with the celestial realm can one resolve earthly problems and align with higher powers. However, the assistance of divine forces requires that we show mercy to God’s creatures.
• “The believer is stronger than iron; iron softens when it enters the fire, but if a believer is killed and revived and killed again, his heart will not change.” [12] – Lady Glen would teach me this narration with particular emotion, saying that a person must be so firm in their path that even if threatened with death, they would remain unshaken, like a towering mountain. In addition to unwavering faith and belief in guardianship, love also provides this strength, and the individual’s resistance becomes driven by love. God, the Creator, is the source of love, and it is through love that we come into existence.

Lady Glen would often recite the following narration: “The most disliked of the servants of God are those whose outward appearance is better than their deeds. They wear the clothes of the Prophets but act like the tyrants and oppressors.” [13] Those whose outward appearance surpasses their inner reality are the most abhorred by God. In my childhood, I didn’t fully grasp the meaning of this narration—how could someone wear the clothes of a Prophet yet act like a tyrant, oppressing others and making life difficult for them? Now, as I reflect on this narration, its meaning has become clearer. It seems to suggest that outward piety without accompanying sincerity leads to divine aversion. External appearances and internal realities must be consistent, and in some cases, the exterior should be less adorned than the inner self to maintain sincerity.

The Human Condition: Divine Creation and Moral Responsibility

As a child, I often wondered about those who were born with physical or mental imperfections. I initially believed these individuals to be creations of the angels and that it would be unjust to consider them creations of God. They had many challenges, and such imperfections seemed to me to be the result of ignorance. I couldn’t understand how these individuals could be considered part of God’s creation. At that time, I read the Tawhid of Mufaddal, which profoundly affected me. In this book, Imam Sadiq responded to my concern, as Mufaddal himself had posed a similar question. Imam Sadiq explained that such individuals are the result of the verse, “By what their hands have earned” (Quran 41:46). Their imperfections are a consequence of their parents’ ignorance or sin, and not a flaw in God’s creation. God created humans in perfection, as He Himself proclaimed in the Quran, “Blessed is God, the best of creators.” However, through ignorance, sin, and deviation from the right path, humans can distort their creation, causing harm. Tawhid Mufaddal was the first book of narration that I studied under an Akhbari scholar. Tawhid Mufaddal is a highly scientific and dense book, written by Imam Sadiq (A.S). In this book, Imam Sadiq (A.S) addresses an individual such as Ibn Abi al-Awja, who is unparalleled in the philosophy of disbelief. Ibn Abi al-Awja thoroughly defeats Mufaddal in their debate, and Mufaddal, lamenting and like a beaten child, goes to Imam Sadiq (A.S) asking for help. When Imam Sadiq (A.S) sees Mufaddal in such an emotional state, he tells him: “Go and return tomorrow, so that you may learn in a state of tranquillity, not when anger has overcome you, as your hostility towards Ibn Abi al-Awja has taken control of you.”

We must adopt the same scholarly and cultural approach of Imam Sadiq (A.S) when dealing with our opponents. We should not merely talk about history, but rather we must analyse the scientific data of revered traditions, such as Du’a Kumayl, in a scholarly manner. When the world understands the scientific, psychological, philosophical, and social aspects of these narrations, it will eagerly accept our leaders as supreme and timeless sages and scholars. This is the method for propagating the culture of the Ahlul Bayt and promoting the Shia school of thought—not through aggressive quarrels with the Caliphs or adopting violent tendencies that lead to nothing but negative and harmful consequences. The world will come to know that the claimants to the caliphate had nothing but coercion, treachery, and deceit to offer, in the face of the immense virtues and knowledge of the Ahlul Bayt.

We must remain vigilant, as enemies seek to promote a violent and unscientific version of Shia culture. We, who have the support of over two hundred and fifty years of infallible knowledge and possess a robust and empowered cultural heritage in both knowledge and wisdom, must purge ourselves of violence and embellishments, especially within jurisprudence. Additionally, we must innovate in contemporary and effective scholarly fields to protect the culture of the Ahlul Bayt, in its true, scientific, and sincere form. Neither power, wealth, nor manipulation can preserve a culture, and the end result of these methods is only disgrace and social outcry.

Some individuals, when it comes to violence, education, and manners, are sometimes less humane than animals. I once watched a parrot that had befriended a dog and lived peacefully with it. The dog did not show the slightest aggression towards the parrot. The parrot had become so accustomed to the dog that it shared part of its food with it. It would dip a chicken leg, which had been offered to it, in oil, hold it with its beak, and place it in the dog’s mouth. Yet some individuals are so brutal and savage that they are worse than the nature of a dog, barking ferociously over the carrion of this world, making sure that nothing from it reaches anyone else.

We must present to the world the humanity, courtesy, poise, and intellectual strength of the station of infallibility and guardianship. I spent a Ramadan in Zahedan, where I was teaching in both Shia and Sunni seminaries. I also delivered lectures in both Shia and Sunni mosques. Sunnis attended the Shia mosque to hear my sermons, and Shia people visited the Sunni mosque. My approach to establishing the legitimacy of the Imams was to analyse Shia references in a scholarly manner and ask: What books or scholarly works do the Caliphs have? Sunni scholars, many of whom are Iranian and have no connection to the Arabs, like Fakhr al-Razi, are far more learned than the Caliphs. However, the three rightly-guided Caliphs have no scholarly works at all.

In the Sunni seminary, I would analyse the sayings of Nahj al-Balagha in a scholarly way. I would say, “We are not in conflict. These are the words of Amir al-Mu’minin; you too, bring the sayings of the three Caliphs, and let us analyse them so we can benefit from them.” I would then tell them, “Your Sahih Sitta is in our libraries and in the hands of every student. Why are our Hadith books not in your homes?” Some of them claimed that the Caliphs spoke far more than Nahj al-Balagha. I would respond, “Praise be to God, tomorrow, bring one of those speeches and analyse it scientifically like I have.” The following morning, I would sit in their seminary, hoping that one of their scholars would present a narration for analysis, but it was all empty talk, and no one dared to even present a single narration for examination in my presence.

We must present the Shia teachings and the treasure of Hadith in the best forms and with up-to-date scholarly analysis in order to defend the legitimacy of Shiaism, not based on emotions or sensationalist propaganda.

At the Sunni mosque, children aged four or five were being taught to memorise the Qur’an. I asked their teacher, “Why are you making these children suffer? The content of the Qur’an should be taught to them.” They made the children perform Taraweeh prayers, and I asked the teacher, “Do you know what Taraweeh means?” No one knew its meaning.

From a young age, I have been deeply engaged with Hadiths and their scholarly analysis. The Hadiths with which I have become familiar are compiled in a two-volume book titled Al-Misqa (The Handhold). Misqa means a firm grip by which a person can avoid falling into danger. This title fits perfectly when compared to others like Misbah al-Huda (The Lamp of Guidance) or Sufina al-Najat (The Ark of Salvation), because Misqa implies something that can be held onto in any situation, providing a universal meaning. Through the Hadiths and the handhold of infallibility, one can traverse the path to safety and happiness, thus avoiding destruction.

Guardianship and monotheism provide a strong handhold for humans. Knowledge of guardianship and monotheism instils in a person a firm and unshakable belief that leads them to truth. This inner truth makes the believer resilient, like a piece of iron, unyielding to external forces. As I mentioned, one of the Hadiths that our respected scholar, Gholin Khanoom, taught us is: “Indeed, the believer is stronger than iron,” which I have included in Al-Misqa under the title “Stability is a Sign of Faith.”

Guardianship and monotheism endow a person with steadfastness and belief that cannot be altered; it is as if this resistance is embedded in their very nature. As the poet says:

“The monotheist, whether adorned in gold or struck by an Indian sword,

Does not fear anyone; this is the foundation of his belief.”

Monotheism is just that: it brings an individual to a state where their resolve is firm, regardless of the challenges they face.

For a while, I reflected on the narration of Amir al-Mu’minin (A.S) that says, “I know the ways of the heavens more than I know the ways of the earth.” I also studied all the Hadiths related to the earth and its depths, but I found very little information on the inner content and depth of the earth (not its surface). This is because in the past, the times were not conducive for presenting such scientific knowledge, and discussing such unknowns would lead to the rejection of those ideas, as it happened to Galileo and many of our martyred scholars whose crimes were intellectual. We, too, are at a pre-kindergarten level in scientific development compared to the future of humanity. Yes, the saints of God, because they are beyond time, possess the most advanced knowledge, but because of the limitations of human understanding in their time and the lack of a scientific alphabet to convey this knowledge, they could not utilize their knowledge.

I believe that in the future, computers will become obsolete, and something else will take their place; however, we currently have no alphabet for that future technology to communicate with humanity.

I spent about a week researching what lies beneath the earth’s surface. During that week, I realised that drilling tools needed to be highly specialised to reach layers of earth that are only five centimeters thick, and this is an incredibly costly endeavour for humanity today. However, if a country can achieve such advancements, as it has with oil, it will gain access to inexhaustible sources of drinking water, thus eliminating the crisis of water. This water is not found in the earth’s surface layers, but in its deeper layers. In my opinion, the earth should be referred to as the “Water Planet,” not because of its oceans, but due to the water within it. I have experienced this firsthand. This water also contains living organisms. We still don’t know what lies beneath our feet. I have not said anything that could land me in a worse fate than Galileo’s. An intelligent person does not waste knowledge, nor does one provide gold to the offspring of a wicked seed to harm innocent and weak people.

The Scroll of Love

If religion, wisdom, jurisprudence, the Qur’an, and mysticism are not explained and propagated through the framework of infallibility, the Shia faith will not progress in terms of its scholarly standing worldwide. Mystical discussions in global intellectual and spiritual centres are already advanced, and the growth of Shiaism depends on the deeper understanding of the state of infallibility

In my youth, when sleep would approach me, I would strike myself with a wolf’s paw so forcefully that sleep would flee from my eyes. Sometimes, due to the key I had hung around my neck, my neck would hurt for several days. We valued education and study immensely, considering it both an obligation and our duty. We would not allow even a minute of sleep to approach us. I spent countless nights without sleep, dedicating myself to study and research, and as a result, I have accumulated eight hundred scientific and innovative writings today.

Before the dawn prayer, I would go to study. In the mornings, when sleep is sweetest, sometimes if sleep would overcome me during my studies, I would strike my face with a wolf’s paw and hit my neck with the key, causing sleep to flee. I had trained myself to wake up every minute. Occasionally, I would sleep for just one minute in the middle of my studies, recharge, and wake up again. When I was studying in Feyziyeh, I would sometimes take these very short naps in the middle of class, without anyone noticing that I had just slept for a minute and rested.

May God have mercy on the late Ayatollah Ilahi. He would say that during the cold winter nights, when it was very difficult to stay awake and study, sleep would overpower me and take me. To rid myself of sleep, I would move the rug aside and sit on the cold floor of my room. The immense coldness of the floor would keep sleep away. It’s important to remember that these rooms were from the 1300s, approximately ninety years ago. Another of my teachers would say that to conquer sleep and continue studying, I would place an oil lamp under my chest, so if I fell asleep, my beard would catch fire. He was a scholar, and his beard was a sign of his scholarly stature. Since he needed it, he would overcome sleep.

I often spent nights without sleep. I didn’t need such techniques. I had mastered the art of overcoming sleep to the extent that for a time, I denied the human need for sleep. However, after several years, I reconsidered this view. When I was a teenager, I would study with a teacher who lived several miles from my home. In winter, I would cycle this route in the cold and snow, sometimes even in the rain. He would come and casually say, “I didn’t study.” This unsettled me, but I would think, “God, I’ve come all this way.” Some days, he would say, “It seems you have studied more than I have,” because I had prepared in advance. If it is said that angels spread their wings for the seeker of knowledge, this is nothing compared to the efforts, pains, and hardships a student and religious scholar endures to acquire religious knowledge. Today, however, there is neither news of religious sciences, nor of scholars whose paths angels’ wings spread beneath them. Instead, some lie on the finest carpets in the best rooms, and the angels, seeing how comfortable their lives are, cease attending to them, folding their wings and leaving. The respect of the angels, is it a joke that they spread their wings for anyone and everyone?

When I was in Feyziyeh, I didn’t sleep at night. All the students would be asleep except for me and one student who had mental health issues. He was the only one who would stay awake throughout the night like me. On the nights in Feyziyeh, only the light in my room and his room would be on. He would sometimes smoke a hookah and read mourning rituals. In the mornings, he would sleep until eleven. I would sleep for about half an hour to three-quarters of an hour after the dawn prayer. At that time, there was no electricity, and the nights in Feyziyeh were pitch black. There were no modern distractions like TV or mobile phones, so nights could be filled with productive work. During one of the nights of Ramadan in those years, I visited the Imam of the Age (may Allah hasten his reappearance) and received such energy that I worked for 24 hours straight for the rest of the month. That month, I didn’t even sleep the half hour or three-quarters of an hour I usually did. However, later, I encountered problems, and I began to observe my sleep more carefully. All my time was dedicated to study, research, teaching, and lecturing, and I would only spend five minutes from Feyziyeh to visit the shrine for a short visit.

At night, I would sometimes sit and weep for the condition of some of God’s creatures. I weep for the animals that have no shelter in the cold winter and can’t find food, dying from cold and hunger. I weep for the animals that are run over by cars in the deserts. I weep for the ants that are trampled underfoot; I weep for those who are alone in solitary confinement or imprisoned. I weep for the poor who cannot meet the expectations of their wives and children, their hearts filled with cold sighs. I weep for the patients in hospitals, unable to do anything for them…

I believe that a person should love everyone. All of creation—from inanimate objects to plants, animals, and humans—are all God’s creatures. At night, I weep for all of them, because there is nothing else I can do. I say, at least I should not be indifferent to them. I love all beings. In my poetry, I have clearly expressed my love for God’s creations. One of my books is titled “The Honorable Particle.” I am in love with the particles of existence and have conversed with them. In my poetry, I have worshiped them, and I have no complaints or grievances against anyone. If I have expressed complaints, my heart remains content with all. I dedicate myself to every particle of existence and every phenomenon in creation. I smell the particles. When I see a particle, my heart is filled with sweetness. I do not rejoice in the failure or misfortune of anyone; at night, I weep for the failures, sorrows, and sufferings of all.

Unfortunately, over the years, the system of translating concepts into other concepts has dominated religious seminaries. The dominance of this system has caused religious scholars and jurists to resort to divination for going to the battlefront, or at times, to avoid being present in the frontlines altogether. I wish filmmakers had been given the freedom to produce dozens of films similar to The Lizard (Maramulk), which critiques the clergy. The clergy should provide space for critique within society and be receptive to criticism themselves, without threatening those who offer it. In my view, if the jurists had been directly present in the battlefields, the war would not have lasted as long, and Saddam would have been overthrown at the outset of the conflict. Just as Imam Hussein was at the forefront of the struggle and on the battlefield, a scholar or jurist should likewise have such a pioneering role in society. However, when everyone retreats into isolation or comfort, the result is a prolonged war, and eventually, the poisoned chalice must be handed to the Imam of Martyrs for him to drink from it. This is the consequence of the dominance of the system of translating one concept into another in the seminaries.

The method of the divine prophets is one of inner authority and divine closeness, and the transformation from one concrete example to another. The amount of knowledge acquired by an individual is proportional to the examples that resonate within their being. It is through this method, from one example to another, that a seminary student is willing to sacrifice his very existence for his beliefs, to be selfless, to stand firm on his convictions, and accept the consequences of doing so. In the system of translating concepts to concepts, everyone seeks to escape in order to preserve their own safety, and no one is willing to bear the cost of preserving the faith and beliefs. The divine prophets, like Allama Tabatabai and Imam Khomeini, spent their entire lives in action and scholarly struggle, not simply in theoretical learning, which they quickly grasped. As Allama Tabatabai famously said, “I studied it in five years.”

The Claimant

Some of my adversaries, when they wish to refer to me, call me “The Claimant.” One of my eccentricities is that I wish for God to gather all of His prophets together at once and set up a humble pulpit for me to speak to them, to tell them of my beliefs. Can I say anything that they have never heard before? If such a claim were ever true, on the Day of Judgment, my skin would be flayed, and they would say, “Act upon your own claim.” Even Shimmer (the infamous figure in Islamic history) would feel no pity in that moment. I once visited Mashhad and jokingly said I wanted to study jurisprudence in front of Imam Reza, and then discuss philosophy with him. Such jokes are a reflection of deeper realities. On the Day of Judgment, God would say, even if it was in jest, you will still be held accountable.

The Claimants in the Role of Caretakers

Some people refer to me as Ayatollah Dr. Nikkonam, adding a title of “doctor” to make my statements appear more justifiable. They believe that I speak based on modern academic training or research from universities. One of the judges from the special court once claimed that my scientific knowledge came from internet websites. Poor souls, they think that we acquire our understanding of psychology, sociology, economics, and other sciences from universities or mainstream academic sources. In reality, even sources that keep their research confidential, I consider to be at a preschool level. These opponents, who don’t even know the alphabet of such basic research, have come to confront us. They are unable to grasp the limited amount of what we have said. I refer to them as the ‘nurses of religion’—those who, instead of religious physicians, practice the healing of the faith. They have commercialised religion and politics, reducing everything to money, bribery, and sycophancy. When the ‘nurses’ replace the true ‘doctors,’ the country becomes a place where anyone who enters is suffocated by the superficial culture they create, and emerges spiritually dead. The governing elite of our country are not qualified in any field of expertise, and I firmly believe they are unable to administer Islamic and Shia teachings.

These people claim to have knowledge, but they have no such expertise, and the problems and corruption in the country stem not from the government or its political factions, but from these individuals who lack the necessary academic background. They claim to be jurists and scholars without any foundational knowledge. I do not believe in their expertise. They are ignorant of real knowledge and attempt to run the country without scientific programs or expertise. They give themselves grand titles, but fail to live up to them. Even the great minds are bound by the circumstances of their times, and if they came hundreds of years later, they would still have to adapt to the growth of society. This group of claimants has destroyed expertise altogether, and now, they fail to even acknowledge their losses, claiming victory where none exists.

The genuine scholars of the revolution are gone, and now the youth, who do not understand religious culture, have taken control of the country. This group of untutored individuals, under the guise of commitment, have overlooked the importance of true expertise, and those they deemed committed have looted the banks through corruption. Commitment and justice must come after establishing expertise and knowledge. The seminaries have contributed the least to the revolution due to their lack of specialization in the humanities, as a person without knowledge has no ability. Seminaries have provided no service to the country’s economy. Those who hold the nation’s wealth do not know how to manage it. Despite being a nation with immense natural resources, these claimants neither understand economics nor heed the advice of university economists, nor do they respect collective thinking. They prevented us from continuing the discussions on Islamic economics, and even accused our lessons of subversion, ultimately shutting them down. We were critiquing the economic policies of the country and charting the principles and roadmap for Islamic economics.

We do not approve of the current methods in seminary lessons, and even the students find them inadequate for society. However, they are trapped under the influence of the dominant group, who waste the lifetimes of those serving the Imam of the Age and squander the religious funds and contributions. The current system, despite having the potential to support both seminarians and students, has failed to manage this efficiently, driving seminarians into poverty just as the country, despite its rich resources, has been driven into economic destitution. The chaos created by the rulers, who neither know who the true experts are nor have a clear system, results in a deep pit that swallows everyone involved.

This dominant group, the superficialists, have lost the game entirely, as they are neither ideologists nor theorists. They lack specialization, and their approach to religion, which they wish to teach without genuine effort or academic rigor, is merely a fantasy. These people are neither true jurists nor specialists; they use political maneuvering, cleverness, deceit, and hypocrisy to gain fame. The value of their outdated knowledge has expired, and their limited education is not worthy of serious discourse. With the backing of political power and manipulation, they have risen to prominence, but time is catching up, and they have lost the game.

The Integrity of the Jeweller from Nishapur

On one of my trips to Mashhad, I arrived at Nishapur late in the evening, tired, and decided to stay overnight in the city. Nishapur is famous for its high-quality turquoise. I met an elderly jeweller, an expert in turquoise, and after greeting him, I asked for all his best turquoise pieces. He brought me about a hundred pieces. I carefully examined them, categorising them into grades and explaining how one can assess the quality of turquoise from its sound and other characteristics. The old jeweller, impressed by my expertise, brought out his purchase invoices and showed me, saying that some of the turquoises, which he had sold as top grade at high prices, had been misjudged. He wished he had met me sooner to learn this expertise.

I showed him a ring I had that had been circulated through four hundred sacred places. He could not place a price on it. I gave the ring to a mystic who had been wandering around the holy shrines, unable to find peace. I gave him this ring to carry to those shrines. Later, my son Mahdi visited the jeweller’s shop to get the value of this ring. The jeweller, recognising Mahdi as my son, said, “Why don’t you ask your father? He is more knowledgeable than anyone I know in this field.” This jeweller’s honesty is a rare trait, where he would refer to someone more knowledgeable than himself, but many today, in broad daylight, deny the truth and sit in positions for which they are unqualified, without the integrity to acknowledge that they are not the most learned. Even musicians respect the hierarchy and boundaries of their masters.

I hold that, more than my faith in God, I believe in the virtue of being just. I consider myself someone to whom God has granted a vast accumulation of knowledge as a gift, but I am entrapped by the mafia of power and wealth, and they have relentlessly slandered me. Unfortunately, our academic institutions are under the influence of this mafia, and they have transformed these institutions into purely religious and dogmatic centres, rather than places of genuine scholarly pursuit. These institutions fail to maintain scientific integrity.

These powers, who have manipulated my efforts, would have been able to access knowledge that would allow them to conquer spiritual realms and elevate themselves in psychology, reaching a level of understanding that would place the academic world in their debt. But today, these false claimants of knowledge control these

One of the best exercises for venturing into the realm of the unseen is spending time in a cemetery. As a child, I had a spiritual teacher who would tell me that you must first make yourself equal to the dead. You should become like the dead in every way: whatever they possess, you should possess, and whatever they lack, you should also lack. To achieve this uniformity and harmony, he had an eighteen-step program that included spending time in the cemetery, visiting the morgue, interacting with the dead, and even sleeping with corpses that had not been buried during the night. Completing these eighteen steps would align the individual with the dead and take them into the realm of the unseen. I was learning practically in such a setting that fear had been removed from us. When I came to Qom, I met a very distinguished scholar. I told him that fear is a lie. He replied, “If you are taken to a desert at night, you’ll know whether fear is a lie or truth.” I said to him, “My dear scholar, you have studied your mysticism under the light of lamps, and it is these lights that have instilled fear in you. True mysticism must be learned in the darkness of the desert.” In the darkness, I would read the hearts of the dead, and sometimes I would even fall asleep with my head resting on the corpses of those not yet buried. Through such practices, we came to believe that fear is a lie. Occasionally, I would scream in my sleep, recalling visions I had in that cemetery. May God rest my mother’s soul, she would say, “Mohammad, you screamed a lot in your sleep! You’re not someone who usually argues, why would you scream?” These screams were a result of the pressure I experienced in that cemetery, which even disturbed me in my sleep. Mysticism, philosophy, meaning, and the unseen are never attained from books in Samsonite bags, read under energy-saving bulbs, complemented with breakfast filled with vitamins, or a job that values nothing except money, or recreation that involves watching the latest films with beautiful women indulging in worldly pride.

Life in the dark and connection with cemeteries are foundational for reaching the realm of meaning and communion with supernatural phenomena. However, before all this, one must cultivate a longing and a desire and recognise the strength of this yearning.

Dream Interpretation

Years ago, I dreamt of having a large Qur’an and a long, white weapon made of silver. The weapon was about two meters in length. I wanted to place them somewhere safe. I asked one of the pious scholars if I could leave them with him for safekeeping. He replied that his house had termites. I then took them to the shrine of Lady Masoumeh, intending to hide them in the place where Qur’ans and prayer books were kept. After doing so, I realised that they were going to clean that area, so I regretted my decision and placed them under the shrine in an empty space, saying, “This is better than anywhere else.” Two days later, I saw that pious scholar again. We exchanged pleasantries. I then told him, “Someone is keeping an eye on you, protect yourself.” He asked how I knew, and I said, “Don’t worry about how I know, go and find out for yourself.” Some time later, he told me that, unfortunately, his son-in-law had been reporting his actions to others. The scholar was a political figure. I advised him to be patient with his son-in-law, for if he didn’t, they would replace him with someone else, and he wouldn’t even realise it, but this way he could control them. His son-in-law had been carrying out the work of several agents on his own. The Qur’an and the weapon symbolised knowledge and power.

Spiritual Duel for Authority

Before the revolution, I met the head of all the dervishes in Iran, the one who was considered the Sultan of the dervishes. I told the child of one of his disciples that their actions were nothing but hypocrisy and a farce of mysticism. He disagreed, saying, “Let’s go and visit them once, and see if you can endure their presence. Of course, if their strength and power surpass yours, they will torment you.” I told him, “Don’t be afraid of their strength; if they have a leader, we also have Imam Sadiq.” The dervishes regarded him as a complete and enlightened master. Some of the dervishes and their leaders said to us, “If you can challenge him in a spiritual duel and make him submit to you, we will follow you. This is the sign of the internal support you have, as we consider him a champion in mysticism.” I told them, “I am not arrogant. I will go to him.” He, who considered himself the Sultan of all the dervishes in Iran, was seated arrogantly like Pharaoh in a large, magnificent hall full of distinguished people. The religious leader of Qom, Mr. Shari’at, was also present. Those who visited him would prostrate themselves before him, and no one was allowed to stand before him. They would not even dare kiss his hand but would kiss his feet. I noticed a proud whale-like figure seated in that grand hall, looking like a king, unmoving and unaffected by anyone. I put on my robe, which had a spiritual presence, and walked straight toward him. Initially, he seemed a bit unsettled, but eventually, he rose to his feet and, unbidden, walked towards the centre of the hall and embraced me. His followers considered this an act of submission. After sitting together, he asked a few questions, and I answered them. To deflect, he asked his followers, “Do you know what distinguishes us from the clerics? They speak well, but we possess the truth.” I replied, “We are only scholars, but you claim to act. Show us your power, or else you are just talking, but your only distinction is your long mustache.” I used other phrases to provoke him, trying to elicit a spiritual power from him. To change the subject, he asked, “Who was your teacher in mysticism?” I answered briefly, “The Truth.” He stopped talking and did not engage further. That night, many of the leading figures of the Rastakhiz party were present.

The religious seminaries must possess practical power and academic authority to have an impact on society. They should not become dependent on political power or military forces, turning into mere instruments of militarism. After the meeting, those who had proposed the spiritual duel abandoned their allegiance to the dervishes and became followers of us. One of them later became a doctor. He no longer pursued the dervish path. He told me, “In the hospital where I worked, one of the elders of the dervishes was brought in. He extended his hand, and the nursemaids (at the time) kissed his hand. I was upset and told him, ‘These women are not permitted to do that; at least put a cloth over your hand!’ He responded, ‘I don’t feel anything.’” This dervish had become tainted and degraded in such ways.

The Spiritual Power of True Saints

In the realm of spirituality, authority lies with the one who can engage in a spiritual duel and subdue all forces. Some engage in practices like laying out a blanket, placing a bowl of water beneath it, and causing the water to make a noise, or opening a locked padlock without a key, or using mental power to shatter a jug of water. Once, someone was brought to me who was known to be very strong in these practices. I was a guest in that place. I asked him to show me how he made the water squeak. No matter what he tried, he could not make the water squeak. When he brought the locked padlock, he could not open it. He claimed that by opening the lock on the blanket, he had opened the fortunes of those beneath it. In my presence, he could not perform any of his abilities.

Reflection on the Death of My Mother

I have always thought that it is either you who should undertake such arrangements or that I would be responsible for organizing the event. I did not object, and he arranged for a tombstone for my mother. I requested that the money be spent on preparing a meal for the participants. However, I must clarify that usually, such a significant amount of money is not typically allocated for a mourning event. This person insisted that he wished to spend all ten million on the ceremony. In such a situation, one cannot think of any other way to manage things. When my mother passed away, she left only seventy-eight thousand tomans, yet such a ceremony was held for her. Concepts like transience and poverty in mystical science and literature, when reduced to mere words, are no more than wordplay or school lessons that are not observed in the real world. Meanwhile, a ninety-five-year-old woman is informed about the time and nature of her death. She meets Azrael, the Angel of Death, who comes to persuade her to accept her passing. The Angel of Death, Azrael, visited her three times before her death. This angel is a majestic one. After reading the morning prayer, my mother lay on her side facing the Qibla and passed away. My son, Mohammad Hossein, was with her at the time, and he recounts that her body was incredibly warm, though I was unable to see her myself. Even on the fortieth day of her passing, I was unable to visit her grave.

My mother was very particular about cleanliness and hygiene. She would bathe weekly, cut her nails, and use henna. When she passed away, her body still bore the colour of henna, which could not be washed off, and the attendants only poured a little water over her. When my mother passed away, Azrael visited her three times. I have thought about why the angel had not taken her soul earlier. My mother had some money. I gave forty thousand tomans of her money to a poor person in need, and the rest was distributed to other needy individuals, as she had requested. I have paid close attention to such matters. However, my opinion differs from my mother’s in some respects. She had instructed that her belongings be given to the poor and not kept in the house. I gave her belongings to the poor, and I feel the building where she lived holds little personal significance to me, although I take care of it. I have cleaned this space with water, as it belongs to her, and I ensure that it is used according to her wishes. May God bless her soul and grant her special mercy. While she was alive, my mother gave me hope and prevented me from stagnation. Whenever my mother fell ill, I became distressed. The mere fact that she was breathing in the house brought me comfort. I could not bear to see her illness and weakness. My mother was the source of strength in our home. We all followed her instructions. When she was not there, I felt lost and completely overwhelmed by fear and weakness. She was my source of great strength. At times, I felt exhausted and considered taking a day off from my studies and work, but just seeing my mother would recharge me, restoring my energy and morale.

The Worship of My Mother and the Importance of the Prayer Beads

In her later years, when she was over ninety, my mother became seriously ill and would complain about her condition. I advised her, “Mother, just repeat the words ‘Subhan Allah’ and do not dwell on your illness, for complaining only wastes your time and brings no benefit.” My mother had a lot of free time and had no occupation other than worship and reciting praises. There is no higher or better praise than the glorification of God. In the Qur’an, it is mentioned that angels seek forgiveness for those on earth: “And the angels glorify [Him] with praise of their Lord and ask forgiveness for those on earth. Indeed, Allah is the Forgiving, the Merciful” (Qur’an 42:5). My mother believed that angels praised God on behalf of His servants. She had several prayer rugs. She would spread them on the ground and pray two rak’ahs on each, sitting there for a long time in remembrance. After finishing one prayer rug, she would move to another. She said that from then on, the angels would continue the prayers. She recited parts of the Qur’an, believing that the angels would continue reciting the rest. She often said that she could not perform all of these worships perfectly, but this was her personal belief. It should be noted that in the verse “For those on the earth,” the term refers not only to humans but to everything on earth, including inanimate objects, plants, animals, and humans. In reality, God, through His angels, provides forgiveness for His servants. Even disbelievers and polytheists can be included in the angels’ intercession, which impacts their reckoning on the Day of Judgment, reducing their sins. This is a very significant point. While we sleep, the angels might be asking for forgiveness on our behalf. Even those who may be sinning could have the angels intercede on their behalf, leading to divine forgiveness.

The Wisdom of My Father

I have many fond memories of my father, may God have mercy on all the departed. When I was about to start school in the first grade, my father told me that my school trousers had to be elasticated. I wanted to wear trousers with a belt, and I was upset that I had to accept my father’s words and go to school in elasticated trousers. After starting school, I saw children who were wearing new suits with belts, but when they went to the restroom, they couldn’t manage to undo their buttons and belts, and sometimes, they wet their trousers. The teacher would send them home to change. It was then that I realised the wisdom of my father, who didn’t want me to face such inconvenience. What seemed unpleasant to me at the time turned out to be very beneficial, and I came to appreciate my father’s foresight.

I remember once when I was in a hurry to go to school. I started running, but before I reached the door, my father called me and said, “Don’t rush and run, or the devil will strike you.” He then told me to recite a prayer to protect myself from the attack of the devils.

My father was an expert in educating us. I often went up to the roof of our house in the evenings, and sometimes my father would come and teach me something. One evening, he told me that he would give me some money to write a cheque. At the time, I was a clever child, and I agreed. My father wrote the first cheque and gave me five rials. Then he asked me to write another one, and I said, “Do another one, please.” He wrote another cheque, and I received one toman. This happened several times. I was pleased with the good income and asked for one more cheque. Suddenly, my father struck me on the head and said, “May dirt fall on your head, is this what you get for chasing money?” He told me this, and as soon as he struck me, all the value of money vanished from my mind. Even now, I cannot count money, and I give it to others to count for me.

My father did not intervene in our lives with a detailed or specific approach; he didn’t meddle in everything we did. If we did something that he considered wrong, he didn’t immediately comment. Instead, he would allow us to make our own decisions and later hold us accountable. When he did raise a concern, even if it was small, he would address all related issues at once, as though the last mistake was the one that tipped the scale. His interventions were precise and wise, blending patience with prudence.

One of the things I encouraged my children to engage in from an early age was computer skills. My children have been very successful in this area. Nowadays, the computer is an essential tool for education, and anyone who does not know how to use it is considered illiterate. Both the educational system in schools and universities, as well as in seminaries, if they do not seriously embrace computers, will fall behind in the race for knowledge.

In today’s world, the night is consumed and wasted by television, satellite channels, and other entertainment tools. Television always broadcasts movies, series, and live shows, and if one wants, they can fill the entire night with these programs. In our home, we have a policy that allows the children to watch one movie in the evening, and if they wish to watch more, they can view repeats at intervals during their rest hours. One hour of watching a movie and two hours of study, followed by a gradual transition to rest. If one sleeps for an hour or two at the beginning of the night, they can wake up more easily in the early morning, especially during long nights when many tasks can be accomplished. However, if one intends to stay up until the power goes off and the television is turned off, they will not succeed in becoming an early riser. Therefore, it is necessary to maintain some limitations.

In raising my children, I have tried to guide them towards becoming students of knowledge (Talabeh), so that they would not think of anything other than being a student. However, I have worked on guiding their inclinations, not forcing them to become students. They themselves believe that nothing in this world is better than being a Talabeh, and pursuing any other profession would not be a proper use of the divine opportunity.

In-Laws

Since before the revolution, when I was studying in the Qom seminary, I had students who were with me. After the revolution, one day I went to Tehran with a learned seminarian to do a task. After completing the task, we went to the house of my son-in-law. I told him, “Stay here for a while while I visit my sister.” During this time, my son-in-law had a discussion with the seminarian. This seminarian had spoken highly of me. Later, when I returned, my son-in-law said, “What is this seminarian saying?” I told him, “He is pulling your leg to see if you are a simple person or not.” He brought us tea, and when we were about to leave, he brought the Qur’an and said, “Haj-Agha, please perform an Istikhara for me.” The seminarian was embarrassed, but I told him, “Go ahead and perform the Istikhara. Whether I do it or he does it, it makes no difference; neither of us gains anything from it.” In fact, our student was more interesting to my son-in-law than I was. Throughout all these years, my policy has been that my family should have the least regard for me. This story of the thesis and books was also brought about by the seminarians over the past ten years, who wrote about me and published it; otherwise, I consider myself merely a laborer who should research, teach, and write – nothing more. And, of course, a strong laborer, not a weak one, who continues to work and even calls upon the Divine to say: “Do whatever you wish; if you close my wings, or if you make me wingless, or without hands and feet, or homeless and landless, or if you set up a gallows for me, I will not retreat and will joyfully submit to the desires of your will.”

Brother

My brother was very clever and bold in childhood. I used to give him the pamphlets of Imam. He would stick these pamphlets on the kiosks of the police stations. He often placed them on the police kiosks at the Bajak intersection. Sometimes, he would even throw them in the cars belonging to the SAVAK or the intelligence services, which were stationed near the shrine or in the courtyard itself. He sometimes even took their motorcycles or cars. He had such authority. I wished he would become a seminarian, but fate was not on my side.

Nephews

I have several nephews. One day, I told my sister, “How many sons do you have? Choose one and give him to the seminary so he may serve the religion.” One of them, who was a genius in knowledge, was selected, and I taught him Arabic literature for a while. I soon realized that with his intellectual brilliance, if he stayed in the seminary, he would eventually cause a conflict with traditional scholars and throw his life away. Therefore, I prevented him from continuing his studies in the seminary, and he turned towards university education. In university, he often criticized his professors, and whenever he was absent from class, it pleased them, but they did not start a campaign of excommunication or praise. I told my sister to send him to a sports club to engage in judo and karate so that his energy could be discharged in that way. Now, he holds several doctoral degrees and works at the French Embassy. His wealth has become over ten figures, in the billions. He believed that sixty percent of the economy in some places is based on theft, and only optimistically can we say that forty percent of the approved budgets have actual invoices. Just as today he thrives in the world of economics, if he had stayed in the seminary, he would have clashed with the influential figures and thrown his life away. This is one of the biggest issues with our seminaries today: they oppose their geniuses and do not tolerate them.

One day, I said to my nephew: “Uncle, do you remember the day when you wanted to become a seminary student to serve religion, but for some reason you didn’t? Now that you have wealth, come and serve religion with your own money, and spend your resources for the cause of religion. Don’t just amass wealth, so that in one stroke, fifty million gold coins can be taken from you in France, and you won’t even notice it.”

The divine grace has been abundant to me during my childhood and adolescence, and I consider these as blessings from God. I was a child with no particular occupation, and my only form of entertainment and play was reading books. Through such opportunities, I have never come across a star in the sky of Islamic knowledge, particularly in Hadith and narration, that I have not grasped. At the very least, I have read every Hadith one or two times. I used to keep a notebook where I would write down the Hadiths I read, which was later published under the title “Al-Masaka.” Of course, I used to analyze the narrations and make notes of points and issues that came to my mind, which have not yet been prepared for publication. The narrations I have later used are the ones that have remained in my mind since childhood. Even now, I continue to study narrations.

In the past, young seminarians with little age would memorize Hadiths. Books such as “Usul al-Kafi” and “Man La Yahduruhu al-Faqih” were part of the curriculum, and seminarians would memorize these books. However, books like “Istibsar,” which contain explanations of differing viewpoints, were also studied. In any case, the subjects and discussions we present, even though we may believe them to be products of our own thinking and intellect, are actually based on the Holy Qur’an and highly specialized Hadiths.

As I mentioned, during this time, I had a spiritual mentor who was one of God’s blessings to me. He used to advise me to sit on the top deck of double-decker buses and observe the shop signs. He asked me to memorize them and tell him the ones that were new to me. To properly follow his instruction, I paid close attention to the signs. He would say, “Some of the things you tell me are new to me and have not occurred to me.” I would tell him, “I look carefully at everything.” Through such exercises, he taught me the science of understanding subjects. If a seminarian wants to stay up-to-date and effective, they must move beyond the book-centered structure and make subject expertise the core of their scientific focus. Understanding subjects frees a person from dogmatism, narrow-mindedness, ignorance, and superficial thinking. If someone is dogmatic, even if they become a religious authority, this dangerous trait can surface, leading them to make the people miserable and unfortunate. Meanwhile, the divine prophets were open-minded and free. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was an Ummi. Ummi, in this context, refers to someone from a large city, not a small one. In today’s terms, it means someone from the capital, not from a confined environment that might cause them to be narrow-minded and dogmatic. To explain this from a worldly perspective, the Prophet, initially, due to his young age, was not allowed to become the custodian of the Kaaba. He worked for Khadija, gradually becoming a wealthy businessman, and Khadija fell in love with him. The Quraysh people of Mecca used to call him “Majnun” (mad). “Majnun” referred to someone who was believed to have the power to summon jinn, not simply a mad person. What I mean is that the Prophet was involved with such matters and experienced everything from human issues to jinn, and then, at the age of forty, he became a prophet. I mention this from a worldly perspective, not from a faith-based one, which a Muslim should hold. In other words, a worldly person, even if not a Muslim, would have this understanding. Those who come from rural areas or small cities to seminary, if they carry the dogmatism from a small environment, or even individuals from large cities who lack an open and free spirit, require a form of spiritual surgery. Subject understanding removes dogmatic and superficial thinking from individuals. Without such education, religious knowledge, and faith would be like excessive water or fertilizer—excessive water would rot them, and excessive fertilizer would burn them. The accumulation of knowledge from Qur’anic verses, Hadiths, and information about the unseen can be a great danger for those with closed minds and destroys them from within.

Before the revolution, I used to teach in a study room in the morning. In the afternoons, another teacher would give a lesson there. In the mornings, when the lesson ended, the seminarians would lock the room and leave the key at the doorstep. One day, they forgot to leave the key and took it with them, and there was no other key available. As a result, my class was canceled for the day. The next morning, this teacher caused an uproar and scolded the seminarians who were responsible for the key. He said, “In this room, from the beginning of the class until the end, the students sit, and these people have canceled the class. This means I have so many students.” His words still echo in my mind. If something enters my mind, it does not get lost, which is why I do not let anything in that could settle there. The class was canceled for a day, but it was an unintentional mistake. This man was not as free as I was. He would make a point of mentioning how many students he had and the rows they sat in. Such attitudes of strictness and rudeness towards fellow students and their arrogant, small-minded behaviors are very bad. While a person should not think of themselves as insignificant, neither should they be proud or arrogant. This is a spiritual issue—one cannot be humble and down-to-earth while also being unbearable for others, thinking they are small and insignificant. This is a lesson in the Qur’an: (If We had sent down this Qur’an upon a mountain, you would have seen it humbled and split asunder from the fear of Allah; and these examples We present to the people that perhaps they will reflect). A narrow-minded person, when they acquire knowledge, becomes arrogant, proud, and self-satisfied, imagining themselves to be the most knowledgeable or even claiming prophethood or opposing the great scholars of jurisprudence, philosophy, and mysticism.

The Gate of the Cave: The Starting Point of Subject Knowledge

One of the fascinating places in Tehran that I saw during my childhood is “Darvazeh Ghar” (The Gate of the Cave). I believe that when a person enters this place, they get lost, and the confusion one feels when entering the unseen realms can also be experienced here. When I saw this place, it felt as if I was witnessing one of the unseen worlds, more important than seeing the Throne, the Earth, or the Pen. As a child, I often went to the mosque. I had been entrusted with the key to the mosque to keep it safe. At that time, I was innocent and simple. One day, a man who appeared to be around fifty and well-dressed, asked me to open the mosque for him to pray. I handed him the key, and he entered the mosque. He had a bag with him. After praying, he left the mosque. When we entered the mosque at dusk, the women entered first and informed me that a precious, antique carpet in the mosque’s prayer niche was missing. I explained that someone had entered the mosque, and the theft must have been committed by him. The thief had brought a bag filled with miscellaneous items and had hidden the antique carpet inside it. Although I had paid attention, the theft occurred. After this incident, I became interested in sleight of hand and the art of pickpocketing. I invested a lot of effort and money into learning these skills. Back then, I was a cherished and dear child. I promised the worshipers that I would find the antique carpet. I knew a person named Abbas-Agha, who was a master thief and pickpocket in Tehran’s neighborhoods, and also a leader of the local thugs. I told him, “Abbas-Agha, I’ve encountered a problem, and a theft has occurred for which I am responsible. The stolen item is an antique carpet from the mosque’s prayer niche.” He promised me that he would find the stolen item and asked if I wanted to accompany him. He gave me a suit similar to that of the local thugs, with a headscarf and shoes. I also wore a hat that was a typical thug’s hat. Even though I was from Tehran, I had never seen Darvazeh Ghar. He took me there and thoroughly examined the area. He met with each person in the neighborhood and would say, “This is not the person I am looking for.” When we entered the Darvazeh Ghar area, I realized that it was as if several cities of Tehran existed beneath the Gate of the Cave. The Gate of the Cave had multiple inner layers, each with its own people and unique objects. From cars, bicycles, and motorcycles to carpets and other items, the people in that area would punish those of their own who committed wrongdoings by imprisoning them for a few days. When we found the thief, the master asked us to sit down and have tea. The master asked the thief where the carpet was. I realized that everyone there knew and respected him. The thief said that he had not sold the carpet yet and still had it, returning it to us. The master scolded the thief, saying that when a person enters a mosque, they should not take its property. However, my own view at the time was slightly different from the master’s. I believed that if a person were to steal, it would be better if they stole from the property of God, imams, and mosques rather than from the poor. If someone steals from a mosque or the shrine of Hazrat Masoumeh, people make vows, and the stolen goods are returned, but if they steal from a poor person, the person has no means to compensate or repay them.

Divine Grace in My Childhood and Adolescence

God has bestowed upon me numerous blessings during my childhood and adolescence, and I consider these to be divine favours. I was a child with no particular occupation, and my entertainment and play consisted solely of books. With such opportunities, I managed to capture every star of Islamic knowledge in the sky, particularly Hadith and narration. At the very least, I have read each Hadith once or twice. I kept a notebook in which I recorded the narrations I came across, which was later published under the title Al-Miskah. Of course, I would analyse these narrations and note any points or doubts that arose in my mind, which are still yet to be prepared for publication. The narrations that I have used later are those that have remained in my mind since childhood. Even now, I continue to study Hadith.

In the past, young seminarians, even those of a very young age, would memorise Hadiths. Books such as Usul al-Kafi and Man La Yahduruhu al-Faqih were part of the curriculum, and students would memorise these texts. However, books like Istibsar, which discuss the explanation of differing views, were studied for their content. Anyway, the ideas and concepts that we express, although we may think them to be the product of our own thoughts and intellect, are actually backed by the Qur’an and very technical narrations.

As I mentioned earlier, during this period, I had a spiritual mentor, a great blessing from God. He advised me to sit on the upper deck of double-decker buses and observe the shop signs. I was to memorise them and come back to inform him about any new ones that caught my attention. To properly follow his instructions, I would carefully observe the signs with intense focus. He would say that some of the things I would share were new to him, and he had not thought of them before. I would reply that I was keeping a sharp lookout. Through these exercises, he taught me the concept of subject knowledge. A seminary student must go beyond the traditional book-based structure and centre their learning on subject knowledge. This approach helps break free from rigid and narrow thinking and avoids ignorance and superficiality. If a person is dogmatic, even if they later become a marja’ (religious authority), this dangerous trait can emerge, leading them to misguide the people. On the other hand, the divine prophets were free and open-minded. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was ummi, meaning he was from a major city, not a small town. Ummi, in modern language, refers to someone from a metropolitan centre, not from a restricted, closed environment. By worldly analysis, the Prophet was initially prevented from becoming the custodian of the Ka’bah due to his youth. He started by working for Khadijah and, through his advancement, became a prominent merchant, with Khadijah eventually falling in love with him. The Quraysh referred to him as “Majnun” (mad), a term used for someone who had the ability to communicate with jinn, not necessarily someone insane. This shows that the Prophet, even in his youth, was engaged with a range of experiences, testing everything from human affairs to the supernatural. Later, at the age of forty, he was chosen for prophethood. I present these points from a worldly perspective, not with the faith a Muslim is supposed to have, but rather how a person of the world, even if not a Muslim, might perceive these events.

People who come from rural areas or small towns to study theology may carry with them a dogmatic mindset due to their limited environment, or even individuals from large cities who do not possess an open and free spirit may need transformation. Subject knowledge removes this dogmatic and superficial thinking from individuals. Without such a transformative education, even the teachings of religion and knowledge may have an adverse effect, either burning or decaying the mind when overwhelmed with excess information.

Before the Revolution: In the mornings, I used to teach in a small study room. In the afternoons, another teacher would lecture there. After my classes, the room was locked, and the key was usually placed on the threshold. One day, they forgot to place the key, and they had taken it with them, and there was no spare key. As a result, my class was cancelled for the day. The next morning, the teacher who was supposed to use the room created a scene, scolding the students who were responsible for the key, claiming that the room was locked and no class had been held, implying that I had a number of students to attend to. His words stayed with me. If something enters my mind, I never forget it. Therefore, I avoid letting unnecessary information settle there. A class had been cancelled for a day, but the incident was an honest mistake. This teacher, however, was not as open-minded, focusing only on the number of students attending his class. Such tendencies—being excessively strict and bad-tempered with one’s peers—are wrong. One should neither think of oneself as small and insignificant nor fall into arrogance and pride. This is a serious flaw, where one fails to remain humble and approachable.

The Gate of the Cave: One of the most intriguing and surprising places I encountered in my childhood was Darvazeh Ghar (Gate of the Cave) in Tehran. I believe that when one enters this place, they can lose themselves, as if they are entering another world. The sense of bewilderment and the sensation one experiences when venturing into the unseen is similar to the experience in that place. When I saw Darvazeh Ghar for the first time, it felt as though I was witnessing one of the unseen worlds. I frequently visited the mosque as a child, and I had been entrusted with keeping the key. One day, a man who appeared to be about fifty years old, well-dressed and composed, asked me to open the mosque so that he could pray. I gave him the key, and he entered. The man carried a bag with him, and after praying, he left. Later in the evening, when I entered the mosque with others, we were informed that a valuable antique carpet was missing from the prayer niche. I explained that the man who had entered must have been the thief. He had come in with a bag, emptied it in a corner of the mosque, and placed the carpet inside it. Although I had noticed him, the theft had still occurred.

This task required skill, as one had to align their will with the train or carriage to attach themselves. I view the connection with God in the same way as connecting to this smoky train. Subhanallah. Subhanallah. Subhanallah. I recite Subhanallah in my divine invocations. When you pass through high degrees of mysticism, you realize there is someone you had been oblivious to, but now you are connected to Him. It’s like being attached to a train, and the train might leave you behind. Or, it’s like grabbing the rear of a carriage. In the past, people would grab the rear of carriages, or the back of the carriage body, and ride there for fun. The coachman would crack his whip on the horse, which would speed up, and the person hanging onto the rear of the carriage couldn’t let go. Sometimes, the carriage would reach the end of the street and stop, and this wouldn’t cause any problems. But there were times when freight carriages would travel at high speed, making it very difficult to keep up with them, and as the saying goes, the person would be left for dead. The only solution would be to let go of the carriage, though it would lead to falling, which was tough and painful. Apart from the carriages, there were also Nissan cars, and children would attach themselves to the back. The drivers of the Nissan cars used to sell fruit and melons at the back of their cars. The children, being mischievous, would hold onto the back of these cars and follow them. The driver, seeing the children, would increase his speed, hoping that they would fall, thus stopping them from clinging to his car again. Sometimes, the car would go so fast that there was no way to let go. One day, for this reason, I fell, and my chin was full of gravel, and my jaw was broken. Of course, riding on the back of the train or car was part of a willpower exercise, and I did these as per the advice of my spiritual guide. I still remember that feeling of being broken. That day, I was taken to Firuzabadi Hospital, and they had to remove the pebbles one by one from my face. After completing these exercises to strengthen my willpower, I needed to have a tonsil surgery. For the surgery, I asked the surgeons not to give me any anesthesia, as I was strong and capable by that time. I remember the surgeons cutting through my tonsils with a grinding sound. I even asked them not to hold my hand, as I was capable of holding myself together. I wanted to test my willpower, and in this surgery, I was astounded by my strength of will. I intended to use this willpower for greater tasks, but unfortunately, it was instead spent on other matters.

The fact that the doctors agreed to perform my surgery without anesthesia was due to the influence of a cleric who, despite appearing like a dry piece of wood, managed to make a complete reference out of himself. Yes, if you handed him a piece of wood, after a week, he would return it to you as a new religious authority. He introduced me to the most advanced and modern hospital of the time, Firuzabadi Hospital, where Mr. Firuzabadi’s son was the administrator. The cleric introduced me to him and said, “The master sends his greetings and has instructed that he should be operated on.” Despite being the son of the head of the hospital, he didn’t dare to ask who the master was. I was astonished by this event, and the trickery of such clerics became clear to me. I thought to myself, what would happen if he had asked who the master was? Later, I realized that this cleric was, as the saying goes, professional in these matters, handling them in such a way that no one would ever ask him such questions. Even though I had eaten breakfast, I was asked to say I hadn’t eaten so that the surgery could be done more quickly, because once this person speaks, his words are final, and no one dares to argue or delay them.

At the same hospital, I met a sociologist. Since I couldn’t speak, I would write my thoughts to communicate with him, and he would answer my questions.

At the time my jaw was broken, cars with hand-starting mechanisms used to stop in Shoosh Square. Sometimes the hand-crank would slip from the driver’s or assistant’s hands, and they would often hurt their feet, sometimes even leading to arguments. These cars had just arrived, and some people from the provinces, who found them new and exciting, would remove their shoes before getting in, holding them under their arms as a sign of respect. Gradually, these simple things disappeared, and nowadays, it is considered foolish and improper not to wear shoes on the most expensive carpets.

Back then, children used to walk barefoot. I remember in Tehran, the streets were not asphalted, but dusty. Our feet would get dirty, and when we entered the house, we were told to wash our feet first. One day, I went barefoot to my aunt’s house, and she told me, “Mohammad, go wash your feet and come back.” Of course, it was very rare for me to go barefoot. At that time, plastic wasn’t available, and leather shoes were expensive. Later, galoshes came to the market, and then canvas shoes became popular. We would pay five tomans and buy canvas shoes, which would last for four years, but they were either too tight or too loose, causing blisters on our feet.

During those days, I had a friend who used to play barefoot in the street. He walked barefoot until he went to primary school. I, too, was barefoot until I entered the religious school. This child had a very respectable father who used a leather briefcase and wore a tie. These were rare back then, only seen among some of the officials and administrators. One day, I told him, “Your father has a briefcase and a tie, why are you playing barefoot?” He replied, “My father is going to the office. What does that have to do with me? I want to play, and I don’t need shoes to trouble myself with.” This child was very wise. In families, children should never be compared to their fathers or anyone else, because the time difference alone means that each age has its own requirements. If this principle is not respected, and individuals are not allowed to grow according to their own inclinations and have legitimate freedom of action, comparisons breed arrogance, greed, envy, and jealousy in their hearts, making them aggressive, domineering, and self-absorbed. We should expect from each person according to their abilities and never compare them to others. How beautifully this child thought when he said, “My father is going to the office, but I want to play.”

Such upbringing is preventative, and granting such freedom of action, especially to children, ensures they do not fall victim to psychological diseases such as jealousy and arrogance. It prevents the desire for theft, materialism, or corruption from arising in them. Unfortunately, in educational methods, “prevention” is often neglected, and instead, punishment is seen as the deterrent factor. However, punishment, even if done consciously and in the right place, usually follows the wrongdoing, causing harm to the soul and spirit, and can lead to stubbornness and defiance. Children should be allowed to act freely from a young age, so that their inclinations are recognized early and they are straightened out before they develop any mental complexes. This prevents the development of mental illnesses and saves them from needing harsh treatments. Even if someone has a beastly or wolf-like nature, it can be corrected with proper upbringing and transformed into a humane soul. Before children embrace religion, they must be raised as human beings, so that religion doesn’t lead them to humanity through asceticism, obligation, and punishment. The desires and inclinations of a child should be free to express themselves in a world full of goodness and kindness. This approach prevents mental and emotional illnesses and doesn’t burden the child with the need for extreme treatments. Even if someone has the soul of a dog or wolf, they should identify it, and no one should fight with them for having such a nature. Every person, based on their background or the upbringing they have received, has different types of souls, but the method of dealing with animalistic souls and their proper treatment has been explained in my detailed works.

This is how my belief in human freedom outweighs even my belief in God. I believe a person should have the right to freedom. Before a person reaches faith, they must have the right to freedom. Therefore, the right to freedom takes precedence over faith. A person only reaches their ultimate perfection when they have freedom and can develop their inner potential. With freedom, one can find the clarity of heart and understand what qualities (divine inclinations and preordained traits) have been instilled within them, what they are inclined to, and what they dislike or have an aversion to. Through freedom of action, this can be understood, and their potential for excellence can be realized—potential that can either be normal or abnormal. A person’s perfection lies in recognizing the content of excellence that resides in their heart, formed by divine and innate inclinations. Without freedom, this content and meaning cannot be attained. A person must recognize the attraction and power within them to avoid misguiding themselves in their journey to perfection. Everyone has their own standard, and it is essential to know which perfection they hold, what they are drawn to, and what they reject. One must recognize their desires; otherwise, in their efforts, they will be like a laborer carrying a heavy load without purpose, like a sparrow that cannot find its way to fly, constantly crashing against walls.

The wisdom behind worship and supplication is to achieve the excellence of the heart and to recognize the attractions and repulsions, and to understand their value. Worship is the measure of divine inclinations and the divine blessings bestowed upon a person and moving according to them. Sometimes, however, it is necessary to empty the heart of its contents under the guidance of a divine master who is proficient in spiritual governance, and then to purify it through refinement, which is discussed in mystical teachings.

The correct path of upbringing is based on freedom, so that everyone can nurture their inherent qualities according to

On the other hand, in order to truly understand one’s very important subject, one must allow oneself to fall into problems, disputes, and obstacles. Through the occurrence of problems and turbulence, one can sever the ties with their former self and cleanse their being. For example, over fifty years ago, I rented a place in Qom from a man who was very pious. He had several rooms, which he rented to us, the unmarried students. He constantly recited prayers and engaged in numerous acts of worship. One day, he had an argument with one of the tenants regarding the rent. The rents were quite low at that time, but the tenant could not even afford to pay this amount. The landlord, who always uttered the phrase “Subhan Allah” (Glory be to God) from his lips, became upset over the tenant’s failure to pay and began shouting the most vulgar and coarse insults at him. He spoke these insults very naturally, as if they had always been on his lips, rather than his prayer. This clearly indicated that his engagement in these prayers was artificial and could not curb his verbal aggression. To him, these prayers were not genuine. It seemed that his mouth was naturally inclined to curse, yet the circumstances had not yet allowed him to do so. His soul was predisposed to oppression, smooth and unhesitating.

A person must test themselves to determine whether they are soft and receptive to goodness or whether they are prone to badness. If an argument arises, does it trouble them and cause them stress, or do they react indifferently, uttering insults, belittling, and offending others easily? If this is the case, one should not be deceived by their outward appearance and should focus on the true nature of their being and what it contains. In life, one must subject themselves to obstacles to test their self-control, for otherwise, in ordinary life, everyone is calm. The true nature of one’s soul reveals itself in hardships, calamities, and in the discord of others. For example, I once saw a mystic who gave his share of meat to a dog. He would place his food directly into the dog’s mouth. This same man, however, once had an argument with his wife and, in the heat of anger, picked up a vase and threw it at her. Had the vase hit her head, she could have lost her life, but it instead struck the wall. At that moment, I could not help but laugh. He turned to me and asked why I was laughing. I replied, “I was reminded of that dog you fed with your meat, while throwing the vase reveals that the care you showed the dog was artificial and false, without any true foundation in your inner being.” If you had been self-controlled in this moment, your soul would have been rooted in love, kindness, tenderness, and respect for God’s servants. In any case, one must start by uprooting the root of vices from within themselves and respecting themselves in order to properly show respect to others. One can only respect others if they are capable of respecting themselves. A person who constantly parades their faults before their eyes and overlooks their virtues is ill and prone to violence and self-harm. One must honour and elevate oneself in order to soften and tame the soul for virtues. Of course, elevating oneself does not mean arrogance or self-importance, which contradicts true greatness. True self-respect arises from within and reflects personal qualities of the soul, while arrogance is based on illusion and a psychological game, making the individual indifferent to wrongdoings. One should pay attention to their emotions and ask themselves whether they are more emotionally inclined towards good deeds or towards committing wrongs, and where their energy and passions naturally flow.

If a person does not elevate themselves and maintain their own dignity, their religion will not be able to guide them to fulfill their true potential and create their true self. A person must respect their body, their mind, their neurons, and their muscles, and only then can they go to prayer and see whether they can perform the prayer, recite the call to prayer, or have spiritual visions and experiences. A person who sees themselves as insignificant or devalues themselves will never reach spiritual insights or closeness to God. The human soul must be firm and resilient in order for knowledge and worship to take effect; otherwise, they will have no lasting impact, like writing on sand, which gets swept away with the first wave. All phenomena of existence and God are embedded within the human being, but one must elevate themselves to realise these. One must become great and recognise their true greatness, but not fall into arrogance, for true greatness comes from the essence of the self, not from external pride. Unfortunately, erroneous upbringings can lead to a person developing a small and fragile self. Hence, they need to be refined and opened up. First, one must expand and blossom their essence before moving to purification, perfection, and refinement, removing the sins from their soul. Only a person who can cultivate self-love, who does not engage in self-deprecation, self-doubt, or self-harm, can embark on the path of spiritual enlightenment. They must engage in playfulness and enjoyment, respecting their own dignity. Everyone must shape themselves from within, not from external sources. The prayer of such a person will lead them to spiritual elevation. A person who recognises themselves as the manifestation of the Divine sees in themselves all the Divine attributes. But one who does not see themselves as the manifestation of the Divine performs their acts of worship absentmindedly, unaware of their meaning, and is distracted by superficialities. Such a person lacks true human personality and, like an insect, drifts aimlessly. These people fail to respect the dignity of others, as they are incapable of recognising the true worth of the people around them.

In any case, when children used to walk barefoot, those were the good days. People were pure-hearted, and their attachment to the world had no meaning; respect and honour were intact. I still recall those days when I walked barefoot, and the nights were filled with memories that I will share in the proper place.

The University of Society

During my time as a seminarian, at the suggestion of one of my spiritual mentors, I had to observe everything around me in order to become a “subject expert.” Subject expertise was one of the core principles of wisdom-based education and spiritual training. Our teachers trained us as divine messengers, urging us to explore public places so that we would not remain ignorant or unaware. These teachers truly nurtured scholars, but some seemed to have come from rural areas and never stepped out of the seminaries, becoming like stones in history, their graves marked in the same enclosed spaces. Our teachers wanted true seminaries to produce true scholars. They trained their students and truly educated them. Although we were products of their training, we also took initiative. We were fortunate to have divine grace in our journey of subject expertise, which allowed us to gain knowledge of all types of places. May God bestow His grace upon you as well! There was not a place I went where I didn’t learn about its atmosphere, from coffee houses to restaurants and cinemas, in my childhood and youth. Today, I face limitations in this regard and cannot fit in many places, although I still explore. There is no place you can mention that I haven’t visited or don’t know about. From the pleasant and fashionable places to the unpleasant and unfamiliar ones, I experienced it all. During my childhood, I often wandered through the upper districts of Tehran. I saw the Central Cinema (Santral) at the beginning of Ayzenhowar Street (now Azadi Street). The atmosphere of that area was considered modern and upscale at the time. Back then, wide-legged trousers were in fashion, and I would roll up my trousers to my knees, because if I didn’t, the fabric would be tainted by the ubiquitous consumption of alcohol. Generally, one or two seminarians would accompany me to watch over me, but they would stay behind while I handled the necessary tasks. One day, I saw a man who had drunk alcohol at a café and was very drunk. I asked him why he did this. He said, “I want to not see myself; I want to disappear into myself. I am disgusted by who I am.” How remarkable! Though extremely drunk, this man spoke beautifully. Had he been sober, no doubt he would have spoken even more eloquently. Today, if you visit a coffee house, even the ordinary people sitting there, smoking hookahs, speak beautifully about God, the afterlife, and the Day of Judgment. As I mentioned, I have explored all places. I would sit, remain silent, and only listen.

In training seminarians, I employed the same approach. For instance, I once gave some of them money to go to the cinema. In Qom, at the time, there were many restrictions. Before the revolution, when it was a time of repression for seminarians, one revolutionary seminarian had gone missing. I seized this opportunity and gave a few seminarians money, under the pretext of searching for him at the cinema. They had never been to a cinema before. I instructed them to watch the movie, have some snacks, and enjoy themselves, while keeping an eye out for the missing student. When they returned, they said, “Praise be to God, we went to a permissible cinema for the first time!” In those days, it was unimaginable to send seminarians to the cinema.

Once, I traveled to the Dizin area, known for its ski resort, the best in Iran. Normally, only foreigners and high-ranking embassy staff visited. Ordinary people from Tehran did not go to this area; it was mostly visited by the wealthy and powerful. A few individuals accompanied me for research purposes. I asked them to place seats beside me and set up a tent for camouflage. I lay down and instructed them to enjoy themselves,

On the other hand, in order to truly understand one’s very important subject, one must allow oneself to fall into problems, disputes, and obstacles. Through the occurrence of problems and turbulence, one can sever the ties with their former self and cleanse their being. For example, over fifty years ago, I rented a place in Qom from a man who was very pious. He had several rooms, which he rented to us, the unmarried students. He constantly recited prayers and engaged in numerous acts of worship. One day, he had an argument with one of the tenants regarding the rent. The rents were quite low at that time, but the tenant could not even afford to pay this amount. The landlord, who always uttered the phrase “Subhan Allah” (Glory be to God) from his lips, became upset over the tenant’s failure to pay and began shouting the most vulgar and coarse insults at him. He spoke these insults very naturally, as if they had always been on his lips, rather than his prayer. This clearly indicated that his engagement in these prayers was artificial and could not curb his verbal aggression. To him, these prayers were not genuine. It seemed that his mouth was naturally inclined to curse, yet the circumstances had not yet allowed him to do so. His soul was predisposed to oppression, smooth and unhesitating.

A person must test themselves to determine whether they are soft and receptive to goodness or whether they are prone to badness. If an argument arises, does it trouble them and cause them stress, or do they react indifferently, uttering insults, belittling, and offending others easily? If this is the case, one should not be deceived by their outward appearance and should focus on the true nature of their being and what it contains. In life, one must subject themselves to obstacles to test their self-control, for otherwise, in ordinary life, everyone is calm. The true nature of one’s soul reveals itself in hardships, calamities, and in the discord of others. For example, I once saw a mystic who gave his share of meat to a dog. He would place his food directly into the dog’s mouth. This same man, however, once had an argument with his wife and, in the heat of anger, picked up a vase and threw it at her. Had the vase hit her head, she could have lost her life, but it instead struck the wall. At that moment, I could not help but laugh. He turned to me and asked why I was laughing. I replied, “I was reminded of that dog you fed with your meat, while throwing the vase reveals that the care you showed the dog was artificial and false, without any true foundation in your inner being.” If you had been self-controlled in this moment, your soul would have been rooted in love, kindness, tenderness, and respect for God’s servants. In any case, one must start by uprooting the root of vices from within themselves and respecting themselves in order to properly show respect to others. One can only respect others if they are capable of respecting themselves. A person who constantly parades their faults before their eyes and overlooks their virtues is ill and prone to violence and self-harm. One must honour and elevate oneself in order to soften and tame the soul for virtues. Of course, elevating oneself does not mean arrogance or self-importance, which contradicts true greatness. True self-respect arises from within and reflects personal qualities of the soul, while arrogance is based on illusion and a psychological game, making the individual indifferent to wrongdoings. One should pay attention to their emotions and ask themselves whether they are more emotionally inclined towards good deeds or towards committing wrongs, and where their energy and passions naturally flow.

If a person does not elevate themselves and maintain their own dignity, their religion will not be able to guide them to fulfill their true potential and create their true self. A person must respect their body, their mind, their neurons, and their muscles, and only then can they go to prayer and see whether they can perform the prayer, recite the call to prayer, or have spiritual visions and experiences. A person who sees themselves as insignificant or devalues themselves will never reach spiritual insights or closeness to God. The human soul must be firm and resilient in order for knowledge and worship to take effect; otherwise, they will have no lasting impact, like writing on sand, which gets swept away with the first wave. All phenomena of existence and God are embedded within the human being, but one must elevate themselves to realise these. One must become great and recognise their true greatness, but not fall into arrogance, for true greatness comes from the essence of the self, not from external pride. Unfortunately, erroneous upbringings can lead to a person developing a small and fragile self. Hence, they need to be refined and opened up. First, one must expand and blossom their essence before moving to purification, perfection, and refinement, removing the sins from their soul. Only a person who can cultivate self-love, who does not engage in self-deprecation, self-doubt, or self-harm, can embark on the path of spiritual enlightenment. They must engage in playfulness and enjoyment, respecting their own dignity. Everyone must shape themselves from within, not from external sources. The prayer of such a person will lead them to spiritual elevation. A person who recognises themselves as the manifestation of the Divine sees in themselves all the Divine attributes. But one who does not see themselves as the manifestation of the Divine performs their acts of worship absentmindedly, unaware of their meaning, and is distracted by superficialities. Such a person lacks true human personality and, like an insect, drifts aimlessly. These people fail to respect the dignity of others, as they are incapable of recognising the true worth of the people around them.

In any case, when children used to walk barefoot, those were the good days. People were pure-hearted, and their attachment to the world had no meaning; respect and honour were intact. I still recall those days when I walked barefoot, and the nights were filled with memories that I will share in the proper place.

The University of Society

During my time as a seminarian, at the suggestion of one of my spiritual mentors, I had to observe everything around me in order to become a “subject expert.” Subject expertise was one of the core principles of wisdom-based education and spiritual training. Our teachers trained us as divine messengers, urging us to explore public places so that we would not remain ignorant or unaware. These teachers truly nurtured scholars, but some seemed to have come from rural areas and never stepped out of the seminaries, becoming like stones in history, their graves marked in the same enclosed spaces. Our teachers wanted true seminaries to produce true scholars. They trained their students and truly educated them. Although we were products of their training, we also took initiative. We were fortunate to have divine grace in our journey of subject expertise, which allowed us to gain knowledge of all types of places. May God bestow His grace upon you as well! There was not a place I went where I didn’t learn about its atmosphere, from coffee houses to restaurants and cinemas, in my childhood and youth. Today, I face limitations in this regard and cannot fit in many places, although I still explore. There is no place you can mention that I haven’t visited or don’t know about. From the pleasant and fashionable places to the unpleasant and unfamiliar ones, I experienced it all. During my childhood, I often wandered through the upper districts of Tehran. I saw the Central Cinema (Santral) at the beginning of Ayzenhowar Street (now Azadi Street). The atmosphere of that area was considered modern and upscale at the time. Back then, wide-legged trousers were in fashion, and I would roll up my trousers to my knees, because if I didn’t, the fabric would be tainted by the ubiquitous This is related to the affairs of neighbouring water, rather than the water itself.

I asked my fellow travellers to perform their visits and complete their rituals, and then I entered the spring and stood in the water. Unfortunately, there are always some people who, at any time, shape the beliefs of the common people through superstitions and unfounded claims. These individuals deceive others and, in this way, allegedly earn a living and generate income. Sadly, the country of Iran, in this regard, is, thank God, a supporter of the shrines of the Imams. They continuously identify a grave as that of an Imam and build domes and shrines in their name. However, some of these claims are false and fabricated, especially in remote areas where a hole or cave is shown and is claimed to be the grave of an Imam. In some of these locations, there has been neither human life nor any creatures, not even a piece of wood as evidence of human existence. Without a doubt, the idea of such deceivers is that the income generated from the domes and shrines of the so-called Imams is far more profitable than establishing a challenging oil company. Moreover, oil is a resource that will eventually be depleted, while the belief in Imams and their religious shrines is boundless and infinite. Therefore, they invest in these shrines. However, the difference between these two is that the domes and shrines of the fake Imams drain the pockets of the believers, whereas the oil industry and its generated income benefit the people, God willing. Thus, we should focus on investing in the oil industry. However, the problem with this approach is that the land remains barren, and it could be argued that this should not be a cause for concern because, as it is said, “God grants sustenance to the ignorant, while a hundred wise men remain perplexed by it.” In fact, one of the factors contributing to our country’s backwardness in terms of economy is our national resources. Reserves like oil and gas. We are ranked second in the world for gas reserves. We export gas to other countries, and we do this quite well. We do the same with the valuable oil reserves, but the problem is that these very resources, which are national wealth, have caused us distress. The fact that we lack economic growth and progress is like an affluent and complacent person who remains stagnant without developing their talents. It is true that our national resources are a blessing for us, but due to mismanagement, they have caused our misfortune and backwardness.

A person should not speak ignorantly, and must grasp the meaning and context of others’ words in order to engage with them properly.

The reality is that over these thousand years, society has been very naive. People have often been so simple, and the clever ones have exploited their simplicity, doing many things they should not have done, while laughing mockingly at these naïve ones from their stone cold lairs. These individuals were so simple that stories were made up about their simplicity. For example, there was a man who had killed seven to ten people. He wanted his actions to remain hidden. He employed a worker and told him that his father had died, but he would bury him in a place where he could never return to him. He promised the worker a large sum of money and instructed him to throw the body in a place where it could not return. He wrapped the body in cloth and told the worker that if the dead person did not return, he would pay him. The worker disposed of the body in a remote location and returned to the man. The man then said, “The dead person came back before you did.” The worker was told to dispose of the body in the sea. Again, the man claimed the dead person had returned. The worker, frustrated, tied a stone to the dead body to prevent its return. Ultimately, the killer managed to make the worker disappear all of his victims, paying him for his services. This story illustrates how simple people were in those times. The killer could easily dispose of his victims by simply having the worker throw them away. A true educator is someone who can remove simplicity and ignorance from their pupils, starting by introducing them to various subjects.

Kashan and the Weaving of Millionaires

The workshop of spinning and weaving. How wonderful is this job, spinning. In a spinning workshop, masses of fibers and cotton are turned into thread, and then the threads are turned into carpets. Thus, this profession is also considered an art. Workers set the spools in motion, and the spools spin on their own, completing the task. In the past, the thread was spun manually. The threads were constantly loosened and tightened, which sometimes resulted in irregular coils. Nowadays, spinning is done using automatic spools, which ensure that the final product is neat, uniform, and well-made. At one point, the people of Kashan invited us to their city. I, along with a group of gentlemen and scholars, travelled to Kashan and visited its spinning and weaving factories, as well as its carpet factory. I asked them if I could try spinning myself, as I wanted to test my skills in this field. They initially resisted and warned me that my hands might get hurt. I did not accept their objection and began working. To my surprise, I worked quickly and skillfully. The result was very beautiful and artistic. They remarked that I was clearly skilled at this work. I replied that I had done it before and possessed the necessary expertise. A large crowd had gathered around to watch me, waiting for me to speak, as they perceived me as one of them, a worker skilled in spinning. I did not disappoint them and explained that factory owners often exploit the workers, profiting immensely from the carpets they make. However, I explained that the profits from these carpets rarely reach the workers. I went on to explain that in these circumstances, factory owners profit enormously while the workers are underpaid. Some of the factory managers were upset by my comments, stating that I had disrupted the factory’s atmosphere by raising such issues. I responded that they were asking me to exploit the workers’ ignorance and exploit their labour, which was something I could not accept. I pointed out that they were not paying the workers fairly. If they paid a decent and proper wage, the workers would indeed work hard and with dedication. I then addressed the workers directly, telling them that regardless of whether they worked diligently or negligently, they would still be criticised, for their actions, whether good or bad, were ethically wrong. If they worked hard, they were serving the capitalists who were exploiting them. If they worked poorly, the managers would still be dissatisfied and expect more from them.

The Kurds of Sanandaj

One night, I encountered a group of clerics, some of whom were also officials, who gathered to discuss various matters. They suggested that I take some time off to travel with them in order to relieve my fatigue. I agreed to their proposal and a few of us planned a trip. Late in the evening, we reached Karaj and entered a lush garden. People of suspicious character were walking around, and large buildings were present. I inquired whose property this was, to which they replied, “It belongs to our friends.” I said, “Do you think I am naive?” The garden was, in fact, owned by one of the security organisations. They denied it, but I remained silent. A few days later, we reached Sanandaj. Sanandaj had a large, beautiful park with an extensive green space. I needed to stay in this park at night for my research. Some of my companions advised against me going out at night, deeming it dangerous. I responded that no one would attempt to kill me, and jokingly added that perhaps the opposite might happen. Such a mindset, that others might attempt to murder me, never occurred to me, as I knew who my killer was. Despite their concerns, I insisted on staying in the park, wanting to observe the killers. I chose a high point in the park, where I could be seen by everyone. I told them, “If someone has malicious intent, let them come forward.” I requested that they leave me alone. After performing my prayers, I lay down, and the armed companions reluctantly distanced themselves from me. The next morning, I saw that they were still keeping watch around me, afraid to leave me alone. That night, the plight and isolation of the people deeply affected me.

Before the revolution, I went to Esfarayeen for a summer retreat. The dervishes of this city had taken over under the leadership of Sultan Khodabandeh. The clergy, unable to deal with them, had declared these dervishes as infidels and impure. For example, they removed all the prayer beads on which the dervishes had prayed from the mosque and threw them into a stream, claiming they had become impure. Mr. Khazali was supposed to come to the city to resolve the issue, but when he heard that I was there, he refused to come, saying that when I was present, they would not interfere. I went up to the pulpit there and called on the respected man to come so we could discuss the matter. Initially, they said he wouldn’t come without formalities. I offered to send a hundred cars to welcome him, but they still refused, claiming that he could not come at all. I then said that I would go myself, as I am a humble prophet. They still insisted it was impossible. I continued on the pulpit, inviting the dervishes to come forward with any issues they had. The city was soon under control, and we regained authority over the dervishes. Afterward, I rebuked the clergy, questioning why they had declared the dervishes impure and discarded prayer beads that had been donated to the mosque. Their actions were unlawful from several perspectives: both in terms of misappropriating a charitable endowment and in terms of wastefulness. They justified it by claiming they had no choice, saying that if they did not harshly sanction the dervishes, they would convert everyone to their way. I responded that they were using lies, falsehood, and deceit to confront the dervishes. If they could not overcome their culture, they should not resort to trickery and deception.

I remember when I was eight years old, I would perform rituals such as the Laylat al-Qadr ceremony and recite prayers. One prayer that included “la ilaha illahu” was repeated many times. There was a scholar present who often advised me not to say “hu” too loudly, as it could make me a dervish. The scholars had allocated every single thing to themselves. When you give everything, even the “hu” to others, the field becomes open, and one might as well say that only Ali remains with his pond.

One Ramadan, I was with the late Haj Ali-Agha, who was very kind and sincere, in a gathering of the dervishes. Some of them made remarkable claims. For instance, one dervish claimed to eat red fire. A group began playing music, and I immediately intervened, saying that if they wished to play, they should first specify the musical mode and the appropriate scale. One of them replied that they only played but did not know the musical mode. I told them that if they did not know the mode, they had no right to play. This was a scholarly confrontation, free from violence, with a different group. The dervishes in Marashid knew me before the revolution, and they showed me respect. One day, I was with Sultan Khodabandeh when one of his followers came to him and asked, “I work for the Rastakhiz Party, is that a problem?” Sultan Khodabandeh wanted to tell him it was not an issue, but because I was there, he wanted to respect my presence. He asked the man, “What do you do there?” The man explained his work, and Khodabandeh responded, “Ultimately, you’re working hard, just like a thief who struggles to climb over people’s walls with great difficulty and perhaps accomplishes much less than the effort he puts in.” He did not want to plainly say the man’s actions were acceptable in my presence, so he made his response indirect, showing respect for my presence.

Sikh Temple in Zahedan

In Zahedan, I aimed to bring different religions and sects together under one common framework, specifically the mosque. I would visit both the Sunni religious schools and the Sikh temple. Of course, the Sikhs invited me, but I also wanted to be invited. At that time, before 1979, I sought to arrange a meeting between all the religious scholars of the area. Anyone in a leadership or administrative position in the region must be able to connect with everyone in that community. When I visited the Sikh temple, about twenty officials and scholars accompanied me. I told them to follow my example and not act independently or make decisions without coordination. I was familiar with the Sikh beliefs. They had a sacred book with their elder, but they only kept it for looking at and never opened it to see its content. They dusted it off with a peacock feather. I asked their elder, “Who among you knows what is written in this book?” He replied, “No one knows. It came from India.” I said, “Excuse me, but this book may be empty and contain nothing. How can you claim that it has sacred content, and why should I believe that something is in it?” I then reached into my pocket, took out my Quran, and said, “This is my religion, and its book is available to everyone everywhere. The sacred text of our faith is not hidden away.” They were concerned about whether there was anything in their book or not, and they considered opening it a crime. I told them that I would open the book, and if anyone was afraid that the roof would collapse as a result, they could leave. The book was kept in a box, much like the charms sometimes sold among Muslims without the buyer knowing what is inside.

North

Philosophically speaking, for a culture to take shape in relation to anything, whether it be science or industry, and become institutionalised within society, it requires a gradual and natural process of development. This development should occur relative to the good qualities of that culture overcoming its bad aspects. Iran, both during the reign of Mohammad Reza and after the revolution, experienced an industrial leap, but the industries were import-driven. I was once in northern Iran, near a dairy factory, when a milk truck arrived to unload. This truck was very dirty, almost resembling a sewage tanker more than a milk delivery vehicle. Industrial growth, if not natural and gradual but instead imposed and sudden, does not carry with it the necessary culture. Of course, this was the case in the past; however, for a country to become industrialised, it must first develop an industrial culture, so that it is qualified to utilise the industry. Otherwise, it resembles a person who is uneducated, impoverished, and backward from the countryside, who comes to the city once, buys a lottery ticket, and suddenly becomes a billionaire. With this newfound wealth, they buy the best house, the finest furniture, a jacuzzi, and an expensive car. They also purchase a sleek suit with a tie. Yet, their mental culture does not align with that of the city. Similarly, our country had oil money and imported industries, but lacked the indigenous culture to use them. The outward manifestations of industrial civilisation were devoid of modern, progressive culture to match the industrial growth. One of the reasons for the high rate of road accidents lies in the unnaturalness of the imported industry. A society must be educated to properly utilise industry and technology. Advanced countries have grown with their technologies in a natural way. For instance, one of China’s airports has a moving walkway stretching several kilometres, the walls of which remain intact over time. People wait patiently on it without rushing, understanding how much this walkway shortens their journey and how beneficial it is. Had such a moving walkway been in Iran, how long would it have lasted, and would its walls have been neglected, or worse, damaged by water?

The Gemologist Sage

I had a trip to Mecca and Medina. My fellow travellers from Tehran had brought a large number of rings for sale but failed to sell them. They asked me for help. They had around five hundred rings. I reassured them that all the rings would be sold. I told them the qualities of their rings and advised them to tell people they had visited a gemologist who knew the properties of gems, and that they had learned about the qualities of each ring from him. They marketed the rings in Arabic, claiming, for example, that one gem attracted women’s love, and another enhanced sexual desire. The Arabs bought all the rings, paying quite a bit for them. Whenever sex and women were mentioned, the Arabs showed greater interest. However, the pearl rings didn’t sell. The property of the pearl ring is that it brings out the beauty in women, and they explained this feature. In three hours, all the rings were sold. This is how the Arabs deal with matters. That’s why someone like Abu Hanifa even fabricated a hadith to sell onions, claiming, “Anyone who eats onions in Mecca will be guaranteed paradise.” In Mecca, the Sunnis are wealthy and prosperous. If arrangements were made for Shi’ites to take the wealth of the Sunnis through legitimate means, there would be no issue in this from our jurisprudential perspective. In this story, Shi’ites from Tehran who were struggling and in need came to Mecca for pilgrimage, while Sunnis bought their rings in large quantities. However, the qualities of the rings were not lies, but the Arabs had a miraculous perception of these qualities, believing that if a woman wore the pearl ring, its effects would become immediately evident.

I also possess a ring that, twenty years ago, was valued at five hundred thousand tomans. Even if I had been offered five million tomans for it at that time, I would still have been at a loss. I haven’t sold this ring, which is a valuable object to me. A person begged me to sell it, offering five hundred thousand tomans, which was a large sum at that time. Many pilgrims were lining up to buy this ring, but I didn’t sell it. Even if someone offered five million or even fifty million tomans, I wouldn’t sell it, as I can no longer find a similar one, although I can easily obtain that amount of money.

In Medina, we were staying in an eight-storey hotel. I was seeking a quiet spot, free from distractions, and went up to the roof. There was a ten-metre-high water tank placed in the corner of the roof, and no one dared to climb up to it. I decided it was a suitable place, so I climbed up and began to pray. It felt like our personal space up there. People who saw me were astonished by how I had gotten up there. Some of them held onto the railing and merely looked down, unable to climb. One day, someone came, grabbed the railing, and managed to roll himself onto the tank. He lay there and I asked him to get up, telling him to sit. He replied, “I don’t have the courage.” As he lay, he said, “I used to be a thief, and because of my expertise in stealing, I can climb this far, but I have repented.” Then he asked, “How do you manage to stand there?” I said, “When I was a child, I had a spiritual teacher who sent me to the Firuzabadi hospital, which had two towers. I used to climb those towers with spiral stairs. I would reach the top and sit cross-legged, performing tasks my teacher had given me. He would sometimes come to observe my practice. He would train me to look down and use a technique so that fear wouldn’t overwhelm me, and my will would remain firm and controlled.”

The Kufa Mosque

The world and everything in it are manifestations of God’s presence. If you treat beings and objects in a specific manner, it is as though you are treating God in that way. Therefore, humans are responsible for their actions towards the Earth they tread upon, the very same Earth they will one day return to. It is said that when a person is buried in the Earth, it crushes them so tightly that their bones are shattered and reduced to dust. The Earth speaks to the human, saying, “You walked over me with arrogance and staggered through life intoxicated.” The human replies, “I lived elsewhere, and this particular piece of Earth, the graveyard, does not belong to me.” The Earth responds, “I am one and whole, and wherever I am, I am a creation of God.” The human may be surprised to hear this, realising that the Earth speaks and says, “Indeed, my awareness and intelligence far exceed yours, and I am punishing you for your wrongful deeds by pressing your body under the weight.”

That is why it is narrated that humans should show respect to the Earth and be kind towards it, for instance by performing prayer in various parts of the Earth, as that very piece of land will bear witness to their prayers on the Day of Judgment. However, sometimes, the Earth bears witness that someone has committed sinful and vile actions, yet they also performed prayers on various parts of it. Sometimes we observe people who are outwardly pious but lack the proper understanding behind their actions. They perform prayers in every suitable place, thinking the Earth will testify to their devotion. In truth, the Earth, being one and unified, does not distinguish between places, so offering prayer on any part of it is like offering it on the whole surface of the Earth.

In the mosque of Kufa, I did not perform the morning prayers and other acts there as required. My companions had only had a small piece of cake for breakfast, and they were performing multiple prayers in a rush, but I performed just two rak’ahs, after which I prayed for everyone and all their positions. I did not feel the need for more. One of my companions asked, “Did you perform all the prayers?” I answered, “I performed only two rak’ahs, but I prayed for everyone and all of their positions, asking for forgiveness for not doing more.” The key lies in the quality of action, not quantity, as everything in existence is a manifestation of the Divine. Hence, showing love and kindness to one face is like showing it to the whole universe.

This issue does not make much difference in essence, as acts of worship, when performed with knowledge, have the same nature and truth. However, there is a difference in the matter at hand, which must be corrected and elevated with spiritual understanding and knowledge. Sometimes, a person performs a thousand rak’ahs of prayer in sacred places, such as the precincts of the Mosque of Kufa. In total, these thousand two-unit prayers amount to two thousand rak’ahs. What value does such a quantity of prayer hold? On the other hand, a person may offer two rak’ahs of prayer, the value of which is greater than the worship of both worlds (the Jinn and mankind). Indeed, the value is greater than the worship of the two worlds. How many rak’ahs should one intend to offer in prayer? The subject of worship and servitude is knowledge, closeness, and truth. The reality is that the entire universe is a manifestation and image of the Creator. Thus, behave towards all of existence as you would towards the Creator, and fortunate is the person who interacts with all beings as though they are God Himself. This means to approach every being with love and purity, not with anxiety, sullenness, ugliness, harshness, bitterness, delusion, or accusation, in short, not with any of the negative traits. At times, the heart becomes so tainted, sullied, and clouded that no matter where one looks, they see filth and ugliness, perceiving people as wicked and unclean, unable to form friendships. However, at other times, the heart is so pure and refined that everything it perceives is truth, purity, and clarity.

Did Amir al-Mu’minin (the Commander of the Faithful) make a distinction between Ibn Muljam and Imam Hasan? How do we conceive of this matter? Or, what was Imam Husayn’s perspective on Imam Ali Akbar and Shimr ibn Dhul-Jawshan? The truth is, we do not have sufficient information about these matters because our hearts are not pure enough to reflect the truths and comprehend the issues. Instead, we analyze everything based on superficialities and outward appearances. A good person is a messenger from God, and a bad person is also a messenger from God. Can we truly say that Imam Husayn (peace be upon him) harbored any animosity towards Shimr ibn Dhul-Jawshan? Everything that happens to a person is from God. It depends on circumstances, but its causality lies within us. We are aware of the character and way of life of those who killed Imam Husayn, but the question is, what was the view of the Imams themselves regarding these individuals?

A story is narrated about Imam Husayn (peace be upon him) that we must verify for its truth. It is said that when Imam Husayn fell on the battlefield, people noticed that his blessed lips were moving. Those present attempted to hear his words. The question arises: who was the one to take this action? I believe this story is false and fabricated. They claim, “I placed my ear close to the lips of Imam Husayn to hear his words,” but this raises the issue of who had the courage to approach that place? One could say to that person, “Just as they killed Imam Husayn, they would have killed you as well.” This indicates that you are no journalist but rather someone who fabricates falsehoods. It is narrated that Imam Husayn spoke of his people, implying that he was kind even to his enemies. This is indeed true, but in the battlefield of Karbala, the enemies intended to destroy the school of Husayn and would not have allowed anyone the chance to make such a report. Yet, the point I wish to make is that, even if this story is false, there is a truth behind it—namely, that the Imams were so noble and dignified that they did not harbor enmity towards their enemies but viewed them with kindness and compassion. However, the curses and condemnations attributed to the Imams throughout history were motivated by religious zeal against falsehood and were in accordance with the command of God. These were not personal grudges or based on selfish desires.

Our point is that the manifestations of the Divine are the descending blessings of the Creator, and we are the outpourings of God. We are the result and fruit of a lofty and sublime love. Alas, some people, through ignorance and blind actions, cast dust in their own eyes, preventing them from seeing this truth, thus consigning love to oblivion. This shows that mankind should not be underestimated. Humans are vessels for the manifestation of the Divine, and they possess great potential, provided they are connected to the Divine and are not heedless. This connection removes fear and awakens vast and wondrous abilities within them.

Karbala and the Purity of the Disciple

I had three wishes in life: the marriage of my daughters, which has thankfully been realised; writing the books I need to write, which has not yet been accomplished; and finally, to visit Karbala, to not die without having made the pilgrimage. By the grace of God, I have had the honour of visiting Karbala twice. On my second visit, at the shrine of Aba al-Fadl (peace be upon him), I stood in the courtyard wearing Arabic dress and a scarf, not speaking any Persian, in order to remain unrecognised and to be at ease. At that moment, one of the Iraqi seminarians who had studied with me for several years spotted me and recognised me. He greeted me and informed me that he was in charge of the seminar in Karbala and that he taught advanced courses there. He invited me to visit his school. The next morning, he came to pick me up and we went together to the school, where around three hundred seminarians were gathered. He began to introduce me, stating that I was their teacher, and then turned to me and said, “Haj Agha, if you have any advice for us, please share it.” I told him that, although his teaching and activity here were valuable, none of that was important to me. What truly mattered was that he had preserved the spirit and purity of a student, and had not become a scholar in the conventional sense. If he had been arrogant, he would have seen no one but himself as significant. But the fact that he maintained his scholarly humility meant that he remained connected to the people, serving the faith and the teachings of the Ahl al-Bayt, and not subjugated to anyone else. This humble spirit is the essence of a true student, and it is crucial that he nurtures this spirit so that it does not fade.

Thieves of the Sanctuary

In Karbala, I would bathe in the Euphrates daily before heading to the shrine for visitation. One day, while standing by the shrine of Aba al-Fadl (peace be upon him), wearing my Arabic attire and scarf, I noticed someone reach into my clothing pocket and take some money. In the past, it was said that anyone impure who approached the shrine of Aba al-Fadl would fall to the ground and bleed from their nose. But I saw this person easily take the money, without any consequence. I said to the person next to me, “If you are not going to stop him, I won’t either.” From his hand, I could tell that he was Persian, not Arab. I can recognise the thieves of the shrines by their hands. I could identify them, and the authorities could easily investigate and create a file on them.

Visitation in Silence

I sometimes advise seminarians that when visiting the shrine of Lady Ma’sumah, they should refrain from speaking unnecessarily, stand quietly in a corner, show their respect, and allow Lady Ma’sumah to work on their behalf in silence. Whenever I visit her shrine, I simply say “Salam Alaikum Ya Bibi” when I am overwhelmed. At other times, I do not even utter this phrase.

Visitation of Imam Reza

In the shrine of Imam Reza, every pilgrim considers everything in the shrine to be connected to Imam Reza, and they perceive any speech in the sermon as coming from him, as though Imam Reza himself is speaking to them. This is the atmosphere of the shrine, a space that belongs to him. The wealth dedicated to Imam Reza should not be used for constructing buildings but for cultural and educational matters, promoting the knowledge and teachings of the Ahl al-Bayt. Visiting the shrine should be about connection to the concept of guardianship (Wilayat) and the acquisition of knowledge. In discussions about guardianship, it is said that only the followers of Amir al-Mu’minin (the Commander of the Faithful) are truly saved. Unfortunately, the dominance of tyranny and the oppression of rulers have caused the truths of Shi’a guardianship to be erased from history and society, leaving only the name and slogans of Wilayat behind.

This subject does not differ much in essence, as actions and acts of worship, when performed with understanding, retain their inherent nature and truth. However, from another perspective, the subject differs and must be rectified and elevated through spiritual knowledge and awareness. Sometimes, a person prays a thousand units of prayer in sacred places, such as the holy sites in Kufa. This amounts to two thousand units of prayer. How valuable is this? But someone might pray two units of prayer, and their worth could be greater than the worship of both the jinn and mankind. Truly, what value does a prayer have that, when performed, is considered greater than the worship of the two worlds? The essence of worship and servitude lies in knowledge, nearness, and truth. The reality is that the entire universe is a manifestation of the Lord and His form. Thus, behave with all of creation as you would with the Creator Himself. Blessed is the one who acts with love and purity towards all beings, not with worry, bitterness, harshness, sharpness, unpleasantness, assumptions, or accusations. Sometimes the heart is so tainted and polluted that everything it sees seems repulsive and foul, and it perceives people as vile and unworthy of companionship. However, when the heart is pure and refined, everything it perceives is truth, purity, and beauty.

Would Imam Ali, peace be upon him, differentiate between Ibn Muljam and Imam Hassan, peace be upon him? How do we conceptualise this issue? Or how would Imam Hussein view his son Ali Akbar and Shimer, the one who killed him, Ziyad al-Joushan? The reality is that we do not have much information regarding these matters because our hearts are not refined enough to reflect the truth or comprehend the essence of these issues. We often analyse things based on superficial appearances. A good person is a messenger of Allah, and a bad person is also a messenger of Allah. Can we truly say that Imam Hussein, peace be upon him, harboured animosity towards Shimer? Everything that befalls a person is from Allah. Of course, it depends on the circumstances, but the cause of such an event lies within ourselves. We are aware of the conduct and methods of the killers of Imam Hussein, but the question remains, what perspective did the infallible Imams, peace be upon them, have towards those individuals?

There is a story about Imam Hussein that we must verify for its authenticity. It is said that when Imam Hussein was lying on the battlefield, he moved his lips. Those present at the scene tried to hear what he was saying. The question arises, who had the courage to do this? I believe this story is false. It is said, “I placed my ear close to the lips of Imam Hussein to hear his words.” However, the issue is who would have dared to enter that space? One might say that, just as they killed Imam Hussein, they would have killed you too, which shows that you are not a professional journalist and are fabricating lies. They say that Imam Hussein said something about his people, indicating that he was kind, so kind even to his enemies. This part is true and correct. Yet, during the battle of Karbala, the enemies sought to obliterate Imam Hussein’s mission, and no one would have allowed such a report. My point is that while these stories are false, they carry an undeniable truth — that the Imams, peace be upon them, were so noble that they bore no animosity towards their enemies and viewed them with compassion and kindness. However, the curses and denunciations uttered by the Imams in history reflect their righteous zeal against falsehood, as decreed by Allah, and must be distinguished from personal grudges, selfish desires, and wicked inclinations.

Our point is that the manifestations of God’s essence in this world are divine descents, and we are the results of a high and noble love. Unfortunately, some, through ignorance and foolishness, cover their eyes with dust, preventing them from perceiving this truth, thus causing them to forget love. This demonstrates that human beings should not be underestimated. A person is a vessel for God’s manifestation and possesses boundless capabilities if they remain connected to the Divine and are not negligent. Such a connection eliminates fear and unleashes remarkable and extraordinary potentials.

Karbala and the Purity of the Student

I had three aspirations in life: the marriage of my daughters, which, thankfully, was realised; writing books, which I have not yet completed; and visiting Karbala, ensuring I did not leave this world without having done so. By the grace of Allah, I had the opportunity to visit Karbala twice. On the second visit, I went to the shrine of Abu al-Fadl, peace be upon him. In order not to be recognised and to enjoy the peace of mind, I dressed in Arab clothing and did not speak in Persian. During that time, one of the Iraqi students who had attended our classes for years saw me and recognised me. He greeted me and informed me that he was responsible for the seminary in Karbala and that he taught a course in Kafaya. He invited me to visit the seminary. The next morning, he came to pick me up, and we went to the school, where around three hundred students were present. He introduced me to the students, stating that I was their teacher, and asked if I had any comments. I told him that, while the fact that he was teaching and active there was valuable, none of these things mattered to me. What mattered was that he had maintained the spirit of being a student and had not become an arrogant scholar. Otherwise, in such an environment full of obstacles and hostility, he would not have brought me there and introduced me as his teacher. If you had been prideful and arrogant, you would not have recognised anyone other than yourself. The fact that the spirit of being a student remained with him showed that he was still humble, still for the religion and the knowledge of the Ahl al-Bayt, and not subjugated to this or that. This free spirit and the purity of the student are qualities that one must work hard to preserve.

Thieves of the Sanctuary

In Karbala, every day, I would wash in the Euphrates and then visit the shrine. One day, while standing by the shrine of Abu al-Fadl, I noticed someone reached into my pocket and took some money. In the past, it was said that if someone impure approached the shrine of Abu al-Fadl, they would fall and bleed. But this person took the money without anything happening. I said to the person, “If you do not intend to speak to him, I will not either.” I could tell by the person’s hand that they were not Arab, but Persian. I can recognise thieves in the sanctuaries by their hands. I could identify the thieves, and the police could easily investigate them and file cases against them.

Visiting in Silence

I often advise students that when visiting the shrine of Hazrat Masoumeh, they should refrain from speaking unnecessarily. Stand quietly, offering your respects, and allow Hazrat Masoumeh to act on your behalf in silence. Whenever I visit Hazrat Masoumeh, I simply say, “Peace be upon you, O my lady,” which I do when I am experiencing an abundance of thoughts. At other times, I do not even say that.

Visiting Imam Reza

In the shrine of Imam Reza, every visitor perceives the entire space as belonging to the Imam and attributes everything in the shrine to him. Even if someone gives a sermon, the listener does not focus on the speaker but feels that Imam Reza is speaking to them, keeping the Imam ever-present in their mind and heart. This space, this house, is entirely devoted to the Imam. The wealth that belongs to the Imam should not be spent on constructing buildings but rather on cultural, scholarly, and theological matters. To attain closeness and nearness, one must have an understanding of wilayah (guardianship) and gain knowledge of it.

In the matter of wilayah, it is said that only the followers of Amir al-Mu’minin will be saved, and even the purity of Ahl al-Sunnah depends on the breadth of the Shi’a; without it, they would return to their base and impure nature.

The Meaning of “Entering into Alienation”

Hamza bin Muhammad bin Abdullah al-Husseini reported: Abu al-Qasim Abdul Wahid bin Ahmad al-Hashimi, the Sufi, narrated to us that he heard from Abdullah Allan bin Zayd al-Dinouri, the Sufi of Basra, who said he heard from Ja’far al-Khildani, the Sufi, who narrated from Junayd, who heard from Sirri, from Ma’ruf al-Karkhi, who heard from Ja’far bin Muhammad, from his father, from his grandfather, from Ali ibn Abi Talib, from the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), who said: “The pursuit of truth is alienation.” This is a strange narration, and I have written it down only from the narration of Allan.

The second stage of the mystic’s journey is alienation. In this context, the figure of Ma’ruf al-Karkhi is significant. He was guided by Imam Ali al-Ridha (peace be upon him) and ultimately martyred for his love of the Imam. Many dervishes aspire to trace their spiritual lineage back to him without having to undergo the hardship of the spiritual journey themselves, hoping to benefit from his martyrdom as he did.

This narration indicates that one who seeks the truth will experience alienation. One of the principles of alienation is migration, as the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) himself undertook migration (Hijra). The saints of Allah go through various forms of migration—whether of the soul, of place, or of title—until they reach the true migration. Whoever seeks the truth becomes alienated and finds themselves in a state of alienation.

The spiritual journey is one of travel and migration, and it cannot be undertaken without alienation. The pursuit of the truth necessitates alienation, and no one who is truly on the path of truth can avoid feeling alienated and isolated. The mystic’s state of alienation is a profound experience, and only those who are on the path can truly understand it.

The mystic becomes alienated and solitary, and it is this very solitude that brings them closer to Allah. They must sever ties with everything in order to experience true closeness to the Divine and attain spiritual vision. The saints, who possess this vision, undergo a process in which all their differences are erased, and they become free of all distinctions, allowing them to perceive themselves in the presence of Allah. Anyone who lacks alienation and who remains attached to multiplicity, even if they are a believer, will not attain spiritual vision.

The Station of Excellence (Ihsan)

And we have been informed about the meaning of “achieving vision” by Muhammad bin Ali bin Husayn al-Bashani, who narrated from Muhammad bin Ishaq al-Qurashi, who narrated from Uthman bin Said al-Darani, who narrated from Suleiman bin Harb, from Hammad bin Zayd, from Mutarr al-Warraq, from Abu Burayda, from Yahya bin Ya’mar, from Abdullah bin Umar, from Umar bin al-Khattab, in the Hadith of Gabriel’s question to the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), in which Gabriel asked: “What is excellence (ihsan)?” The Prophet (peace be upon him) replied: “To worship Allah as though you see Him, for if you do not see Him, indeed, He sees you.”

This is a correct and rare hadith, and Muslim has included it in his Sahih. This narration refers to the foundational doctrine of this group (the mystics).

Closeness and Vision

Earlier, we mentioned that in order to attain spiritual vision, the mystic must undergo a natural progression, starting with the deliberate decision to embark on a journey. One who travels alone becomes alienated, and this alienation brings them closer to Allah. A mystic who is granted the ability to draw closer to Allah will, inevitably, also attain the capacity to see Him. Vision is not attained merely through the acquisition of knowledge, perfection, or worship, even though these actions are worthy of reward.

Khawaja Ansari, for the third stage of attaining vision and spiritual sight, mentions the narration on excellence (ihsan). He includes its chain of transmission, though the sources he uses are from Sunni books compiled a hundred years after the death of the Prophet. The individuals in this chain of narration could not truly comprehend the meaning of ihsan, and even if the chain is not fabricated, they transmitted a narration they did not fully understand. Khawaja explicitly mentions that this hadith is rare and transmitted only through a single channel, but he does not explore its meaning, merely reporting it. Neither Khawaja nor the commentator delve into the nuanced meaning of this narration, which relates to the vision of the Divine. The path to monotheism and vision of the Divine is like a journey to the sea: one must first savor a bit of the path before understanding what it means to see and reach Allah, to be with Him, and to become His tool.

“Ihsan” is the first chapter of the divine path, and Khawaja and the commentator continue to explore its stages and characteristics. The mention of the hadith on excellence here is primarily to show that it speaks of “vision.”

This narration suggests two levels of worship: one is worship that is as though accompanied by vision (“as though you see Him”), which describes ihsan, and the other is awareness that the worshipper is in the presence of Allah, knowing that Allah sees them. This is a lower level of worship, and beyond this, there is a higher stage that transcends this awareness and enters into certainty, eliminating the “as though” (k’anna).

The Stages and Faces of Knowledge

In order for the reader to fully grasp the stages of knowledge and recognize the greatness of the station of ihsan, we mention these stages. Knowledge of Allah has two general aspects: a general and a specific one. The general aspect of knowledge exists in all phenomena, and every phenomenon, by its very nature, recognizes Allah and is journeying towards Him. The journey towards Allah is unique for each phenomenon, and it can be said that the paths to Allah are as numerous as the breaths of all creatures. As the Qur’an says: “Each people knows its own drinking place” (Qur’an, 7:50), and also: “Allah raises in rank those among you who believe and those who have been given knowledge” (Qur’an, 58:11). Everyone knows Allah in their own way, and what matters is that each person discovers their true identity without the veil of hypocrisy on their face. Allah has placed a manifestation of Himself in every form, and recognizing Allah through that form is accessible to everyone.

This natural disposition of knowledge (fitra) has both a confirmatory and a true aspect, although it has varying degrees. Each person partakes in this knowledge according to their own stage, and this is relative—one person may be a master in their stage, while another, in a higher stage, may appear like a stranger to them. One person might be a believer at one stage, but at a higher stage, they may have no perception or certainty about the Divine.

The Importance of the Path

The essence of mysticism is not about reading four books with a scholar. Mysticism is a bloody road where the footprints of the travelers have been severed. Knowledge does not emerge from paper and books; the book is like a person’s identity card, which does not grow as the person grows. A mystic grows through the existence of all phenomena; if they do not grow with their society, they are dead—yet a moving corpse among the corporeal. A mystic is truly on a journey when they are alive. If someone does not grow with their time, does not taste the world, does not understand the thoughts of the world, and does not see the hearts of the people, they are a dead person in motion. If a mystic is confined in darkness and imprisonment for a time, after their liberation, they will show their growth and speak with a contemporary voice. They cannot speak or think in terms of the past. A mystic must always remain alive and fresh to be called a traveler, a seeker, and a wanderer.

Points from the Narrative

The stages of the spiritual travelers can be divided into three levels: resemblance (Tashabbuh), embodiment of divine traits (Takhalluq), and realization (Tahaqquq). All three stages are present in this narration. The stage of Islam represents resemblance, the stage of faith represents embodiment, and the stage of Ihsan represents realization, which is the highest. As one moves up the stages, the number of people decreases. In contrast, those who are at the stage of resemblance (Islam) are the most numerous among those known in the realm of mysticism. Ihsan is far more difficult and advanced than faith, which is why it is recommended to remain in the realm of faith. Anyone who tries to step beyond faith is tangled in calamities and will face trials. Ihsan means to be without condition and not to have “subsequent branches” (Fay Tafrīʿ) — to surrender oneself completely and willingly to God without any preconditions or assumptions. A “muhsin” (one who embodies Ihsan) is someone who dedicates all their being to God, considering themselves wholly as God’s possession, and gives everything, including their free will, back to God.

However, the true significance of giving back to God is not a matter of charity; rather, it is the return of what was never theirs to begin with, but was entrusted to them by God. Giving God’s wealth back to God is not an act of generosity; it’s simply the return of what already belongs to God. When God calls such a person “muhsin” (one who embodies Ihsan), it is out of His grace. This person has nothing of their own to give; they have simply returned what was always God’s.

Therefore, the verse can be interpreted differently, with the pronoun in “Wajhuhu” (His face) being understood as referring to God, implying that it is God’s face that submits to Him. This is why the verse uses “Lillāh” (for God) rather than “Ilayh” (to Him), which would imply separation. God calls someone who returns what belongs to Him a “muhsin,” for many people do not do this, considering what they have as their own.

If someone believes they have performed an act of charity or made a sacrifice for others, they may be committing shirk (polytheism), as they are attributing actions to themselves rather than recognizing them as coming from God. Such a person, even with the slightest sense of superiority in their charity, has harmed God with their actions, as they have used their donations or sacrifices to claim merit.

The authenticity of the Hadith of Ihsan is evident from its alignment with the following verses: “Yes, whoever submits his face to God and is a doer of good (muhsin) will have his reward with his Lord” (Qur’an 2:112), and “And whoever submits his face to God while being a doer of good has certainly grasped the most trustworthy handhold” (Qur’an 31:22). This supports the Hadith without needing to examine its chain of transmission. The Qur’an, in its concern for human dignity, guides people away from error.

From these three verses, we understand that Ihsan is not confined to practical wisdom but extends to theoretical wisdom and mystical insight. Ihsan involves surrendering oneself entirely to God, abandoning personal ego, and returning everything to God’s will.

Additionally, it can be interpreted that the pronoun in “and He is a doer of good (muhsin)” refers to God. If a person transcends their self, they realize that God alone is the true “muhsin.” When society reaches this realization, Ihsan will become a universal virtue, and all will experience peace and harmony. Otherwise, discussion without action is futile. Speaking about certainty and its levels, for those who are focused on intellectual discussion, can be a disservice to the people of action.

In this Hadith, it is the archangel Gabriel (Jibril) who is asking the questions, and the Prophet (PBUH) provides the answers. The phrase “as if you see Him” reflects the idea that those at higher levels of spiritual realization experience God’s presence directly, as if seeing Him with their eyes. A person who struggles with theoretical matters cannot truly understand this level of perception. This is similar to someone attempting to engage in complex calculations without having the basic tools or understanding.

The continuation of this Hadith in Sahih Muslim adds: “Then the man turned away, and the Messenger of God said: ‘Return to him.’ They tried to turn him back but saw nothing. The Prophet said: ‘This was Gabriel, who came to teach the people their religion.'” This implies that Gabriel’s questions were meant for the people to learn their faith and comprehend the deeper meanings of Islam, Iman, and Ihsan. Gabriel was playing a role, asking questions to help others understand these concepts. He did not need these answers himself; rather, he sought to increase his own understanding of Ihsan and the concept of “seeing” God.

It is important to note that while Gabriel is at a very high level, he recognizes that even the highest levels of spiritual knowledge are beyond his current grasp. The Prophet, in his responses, reveals the levels of understanding that Gabriel himself aspires to reach. This narrative is not a mere theological exercise; it is a lived experience of the Prophets and saints, who walk the path of God with total submission. They are not concerned with theoretical discussions but rather focus on the practical realities of divine love, knowledge, and worship.

In the spiritual journey, those who reach the highest levels of Ihsan and submission to God do not remain bound by personal ego. They see the entire world as interconnected in divine unity. The true saints and mystics do not simply speak of these realities but embody them, and their very presence bears witness to the truth of the divine.

In this way, the Hadith about Ihsan reflects the path of those who have transcended themselves and have been immersed in divine presence, showing that the highest level of devotion is one where the individual no longer exists apart from God.

We are confused about who our master, Imam Hussain (7), truly was. We are immersed in imitation and have lost sight of them. One of the key sources for understanding the level of knowledge of each of the martyrs of Karbala is to investigate their battle cries, the verses they uttered during the battle. However, the researcher is engulfed in the loneliness of this pursuit and composes a lament of absence. Non-divine saints can also attain knowledge, but traversing this high station is accompanied by trials, pain, sorrow, and punishment. These pains gradually dissolve the seeker, much like the candle’s tear-like drops of wax, leaving nothing behind. When it is said, “Trial is for loyalty,” this refers to researchers, and saints must be seen as the manifestation of trial. There is no mystic or spiritual person who is free from suffering. These trials begin with imitation and are not insignificant. Rather, trials descend upon the seeker as a deluge until they reach realization. In such a state, the sharp, drawn swords become the safest refuge one can turn to, as in the battle cry, “O swords, take me” [194]. In such a situation, the loneliness and absence become so profound that there is no one left to turn to but the sharp blades themselves.

What did Imam Hussain (7) see that he sought refuge in the swords? We do not know. We do not know the wickedness and evil of the armed individuals who surrounded the battlefield of Karbala. We do not know their true nature, as they are lost to history, only their deeds are known. Contemporary people have never seen Harmala and only heard of his crimes. They have not touched the wickedness or felt the depth of his vile actions.

Mystics immersed in imitation are caught in various preferences, often disputing among themselves to such an extent that they even fight. However, when one reaches the stage of spiritual cultivation, they no longer quarrel with others at the same level. They share similar spiritual experiences, though differences persist: “We have preferred some of them over others” [195].

In the realm of realization, even differences are transcended, and all of them become one light. Crossing from imitation to cultivation is painful, and the seeker is continuously struck by various swords. Sometimes it is poverty, sometimes illness, sometimes the loss of reputation, or even disgrace. Seers are subjected to numerous afflictions, sometimes through stones and objects. At times, when everything strikes, even God strikes. The battlefield of Karbala is the prime example of trial. Imam Hussain (7) faced trials in such a way that God Himself rejoiced, knowing He had such a servant. He views the earth, as if Karbala were not even there! In that place, unity prevails. The trial is the final stage of love, not its beginning. When the poet says:

“At first, love is rebellious and bloody,
Until the one outside flees,” [196]

it is not entirely correct. The beginning of love is sometimes sweet, but because they know that the killing of lovers is permissible, many flee from it and refuse even to begin. The middle of love is where it becomes overwhelmingly bloody, and by the end, it only intensifies. But when the realization stage is reached, no one flees, and love has nowhere to run. Those who are beginners can flee. This poem suggests the poet is also a mystic lost in imitation, otherwise, they would not speak of fleeing from love but would highlight the battlefield of lovers, not their escape.

The saints of God, once they reach cultivation and realization, speak and behave differently. The path of cultivation is the path of trial! If one can adjust to trials, they are indeed fortunate; otherwise, they remain in imitation!

The Standard of Truth

A seeker on the path to the Divine faces the hidden face of the Truth and directs their vision towards it, making it the focal point of their movement. It is like a flag, a sign to illuminate the path they must follow. As the great mystic writes: “Each one of them has a unique path and direction, and a flag is set for them, calling them to the destination.” It is as if someone ahead is leading the seeker in the shadows, calling them forward. Sometimes this call is through words, at other times through the language of the heart, and occasionally through dreams or during wakefulness. This phrase, “A flag has been set for them, calling them to the goal,” is essential. The only true guide for God’s saints is God Himself. He alone leads them on their journey and continuously calls them towards Himself. These beloved ones receive this guidance, sometimes through dreams, sometimes through inner focus, and at times, they hear this call. They feel His presence, coming closer or receding, guiding them along the way.

God’s beloved ones are always on this path. When they first begin, they see everything clearly, and whatever they learn, they realise that it was already known to them beforehand. The path is more open for the beloved, and they walk this journey silently, without words. The language of their hearts echoes the verse: “I am the servant of God, He has given me the book, and made me a prophet” [197]. Before embarking on the spiritual journey, they hear and see divine truths within themselves and often conceal them, as Prophet Jacob (7) advised his son Joseph (7) to conceal his dreams from his brothers so they would not plot against him: “O my son, do not tell your dream to your brothers, for they will plot against you. Indeed, Satan is to man a clear enemy” [198]. Satan, though powerless over Prophet Joseph, attacks those around him to use them against him. In the house of a prophet, Joseph is not free to speak his dreams. Similarly, the saints of God do not reveal their dreams to others, though Joseph repeatedly had this dream, and it raises questions about why he shared it with his father.

The realm of love is a sanctuary far beyond reason. Only one who holds their life in their hand can kiss that threshold.

“Love” refers to the blossoming of reason within the heart, which is mature and growing. While reason, being purely calculative, is bound by rules and restrictions, the heart is a centre of selflessness and limitless. Even laws cannot constrain it. Although love is not madness and is always beneficial, it does not remain bound by the constraints of calculation; rather, it upholds selflessness, as love is the flowering and manifestation of reason. When the engine of love and the heart ignites in someone, they are like an airplane soaring at high altitudes, or rather, like spacecrafts that launch from the launchpads. These spacecrafts are equipped with boosters and engines that carry them a certain distance, after which they separate and continue to move forward with their own energy. Similarly, if reason can lift the soul to the heights, it then falls to the heart, becoming generative and productive. At this point, reason does not detach from the individual but rather transforms into the heart. However, most people fail to ignite the engines of movement embedded within them. This is why the Qur’an critiques them for not exercising reason, not reason itself, and states: (And most of them do not use their intellect).

This verse conveys an external, objective truth, not intended to insult humanity! A person who moves only with the soul or reason is operating with an engine that has a short range and slow speed. Hence, they do not transcend the material world and, after seventy years of striving, only gain material possessions such as a house, car, spouse, and a few children, yet they possess nothing of spiritual knowledge or love. The short range can sometimes turn to pure wickedness, as the narration says:

“I asked Imam Ja’far al-Sadiq (AS): What is intellect? He replied: That which is used to worship the Merciful and attain paradise. I asked: What about that which is in Muawiya? He said: That is wickedness, that is Satanism, it resembles intellect but is not intellect.”

The centre of human decision-making, in the short term, is reason; however, in the long term, reason becomes a servant of the heart, taking its instructions from there. Emotions manifest in the long term. The saints of God are the centre of emotion! Thousands of compassionate mothers gathered together would not reach even the smallest measure of the emotion of Imam Ali (AS), who is the father of the ummah, even for mothers: “I and Ali are the parents of this nation.”

This psychological concept is provable and can be empirically demonstrated. A person who has no faith cannot ignite the engine within them for long-term movement and thus lacks the heart’s energy to endure over extended distances. A slight movement of such a person causes them to break apart entirely.

God, too, works according to love. This is why He says: (God grants sustenance to whom He wills without measure) and (Indeed, the patient will be given their reward without measure); meaning that reason can no longer calculate it, but the heart can.

We said that the structure of the inner being consists of: soul, reason, heart, spirit, secret, hidden, and most hidden, with each higher level contained within the previous one. For example, the spirit is in the heart, the secret is in the spirit, the hidden is in the secret, and the most hidden is in the hidden. Each level is the manifestation of the previous one. The secret follows the spirit, and the spirit follows the heart, and the heart follows reason. However, the commentator places the secret before the spirit and calls it a description of the heart, whereas it is actually a description of the spirit, and speaks of unity where it does not belong. We discuss the other hidden levels of the human being in sections eight to ten of the book.

These are all emotional responses within the soul and its faculties to the influx of light from the heart, making them obedient to it, responsive to its prompts in interactions. The first step the heart takes in dealing with others is to observe the actions, ensuring that the soul is settled and compliant with them. Then comes the vigilant watch over the Truth in the journey towards it, accompanied by a profound respect for the sanctity and the fulfillment of the right of reverence. After that comes sincerity, by purifying the act from any desire to be seen, or any longing in the soul for compensation or a goal, even if it is merely to attract the gaze of others. This is pure hypocrisy, and the work is not completed except by refining it through knowledge, breaking habitual patterns, and elevating the soul to transcend dependence on its own power. There is no work without uprightness towards the Truth, struggling in it as one should, cutting off one’s gaze from both the action and the surrounding circumstances, including sustenance, and focusing only on the action itself. This necessitates reliance on God, entrusting the matter to Him in full trust and confidence in His sufficiency, and then submitting to what confounds the intellect, disturbs the imagination, and contradicts reasoning, such as the disparity of provision and the shifting of dominions.

In the realms of dealings, the seeker at the beginning of their journey possesses a soul that is illuminated, and they have partially prepared the ground for the birth of the heart. They subordinate others and strive to face the Truth, thus engaging in dealings with God. The commodity in this transaction is the seeker’s pure, clean, and refined deeds. At this stage, they may still possess expectations, desires, and other self-interests, and they begin their dealings by observing the rights of God, striving not to contradict the Divine will. Initially, they may have been in opposition to God’s commands, and when personal interests came into play, they might have failed to restrain themselves, but in dealings, they make an effort to ensure there is no contradiction with the Divine. To observe this, they must engage in vigilance, ensuring that this observation is not broken or interrupted. They now have a rival, and that rival is God Almighty. Thus, they must remain vigilant and make this vigilance constant. With continuous vigilance, sanctity is established, and God, in their heart, forms a sacred space, and the seeker then acknowledges the sanctity of God, distinguishing between what is sacred and profane in their heart. They maintain the sanctity of God and fulfill His rights, doing what is required by Him. They safeguard the sanctity of God through fulfilling their role as a servant, which leads to a state of sincerity. The seeker cannot engage in their actions with any form of hypocrisy, as hypocrisy is a violation of the sanctity of God and submission to something else. Sincerity in action is to purify it from anything other than God. However, sincerity itself can also be seen as a form of hypocrisy, as it deals with external actions and additions, and one who strives for sincerity is, in a sense, still concerned with something other than the act itself. In this stage, the seeker enters into a transaction with God, purifying their intentions from all that is other than Him, and agreeing that everything they do is solely for Him, thereby attaining sincerity and purifying it with peace, heavenly blessings, and clarity. In this transaction, they maintain perseverance because the seeker is no longer acting for the soul or out of hypocrisy. When the action is purely for God, it initially feels difficult and hard. They must also trust in God’s sufficiency to make Him their stronghold, relying upon Him and entrusting their affairs to Him. They submit to God, trusting in His sufficiency, and this is accompanied by surrender, not seeking compensation or reward from the action itself.

This is where submission (Tawakkul) becomes a practice of faith. Ultimately, the greatest stage in this process is the full surrender to God, and the path is marked by entrusting all actions to God, as God is the ultimate guide in the seeker’s journey. When everything is entrusted to Him, the seeker enters the stage of complete submission (Tafwid) and does not look for any external reward or result. In the final stages of dealings, submission and peace emerge, as the seeker strives to prepare the grounds for their heart’s birth and to surrender it to God, embracing peace with the Divine.

Once the heart has embraced peace with God, the seeker enters into the realm of “morality,” developing virtuous qualities.

In general, the stage of transactions should be seen as the submission of all affairs to God. In the beginning, the seeker awakens and reaches the door of the heart, and in dealings, they turn to entrust their soul to God. This is not about abandoning one’s soul to selfish actions but about submitting the soul to God so that He may decide. This is a heavy task, and few succeed in fully entrusting themselves to God.

The commentator explains this section of dealings in a profound manner: “The first thing the heart begins with in dealings is observing actions to ensure the soul is compliant.”

When the seeker wishes to enter into dealings with God, they are in a state of multiplicity. They stand on one side, while God stands on the other, entrusting all their affairs to Him. Transactions can be seen as the seeker’s stage of obedience and submission to God. To surrender fully to God, the seeker must first ensure their actions are in accordance with the Divine will, ensuring no contradiction with God’s will. The soul must be confident that the action is brought to God alone and is compliant. The action must be performed with the intent to observe God’s rights, stripping it of any personal gain that may taint it. For example, if one prays for the purification of their soul and their intention is not solely to please God, but for the sake of outward appearance or the approval of others, the act becomes polluted. The act must be performed for the sake of God and in the purest sense of sincerity.

Once the seeker ensures they have committed no acts of defiance and have brought all actions for God’s sake, they must purify their heart. As they strive to move forward and remain on the path, they must be vigilant to avoid falling into deviation. This is why vigilance is needed. The journey towards God can only remain constant if they remain attentive to God’s assistance and proceed with vigilance. In this stage, the seeker observes the sanctity of God and ensures the fulfillment of His rights through their actions. God is seen as the greatest, and although the seeker may love many things, they love God more than anything else. Should they encounter difficulties, they prioritize God’s sanctity and do not indulge in rebellion or frustration. They become God-fearing, and their heart overflows with reverence for the Divine. At this point, they see only God before them, purifying their intentions and actions solely for Him.

One who seeks sincerity is one who acknowledges the sanctity and greatness of God and has embedded this in their heart and mind. The process of developing sincerity can be likened to the following example: A person walking on a rope suspended between two high points initially uses a stick to help balance. Over time, they develop such skill that they no longer need the stick, as they maintain balance by mentally imagining it. In the same way, the seeker must develop a strong internal awareness of God’s sanctity in order to purify their actions. By doing so, they achieve sincerity.

When sincerity is developed, the seeker’s actions are purified and freed from any external motivations, and they achieve a state of absolute devotion. Hypocrisy arises when there is an element of seeking external validation, such as desiring the approval of others for their actions. Thus, the practice of refining one’s actions through knowledge and awareness is crucial. One cannot purify their actions without the proper knowledge and understanding. Without wisdom, the seeker may unknowingly engage in hypocrisy, thereby corrupting their intentions. For this reason, the seeker requires not only perseverance but also knowledge to guide their actions in the right direction.

Ultimately, true perseverance requires both an unwavering commitment to the Divine and a rejection of all personal desires. The seeker, relying on their knowledge and understanding, can then begin to adopt the virtues of humility, generosity, and gratitude, and through their dealings with God, they arrive at a state of true submission and spiritual fulfillment.

The Stages of Moral Development in the Spiritual Journey

The fourth section of the journey ahead for the seeker is the section on “ethics.” The soul begins its awakening in the “beginnings” and begins to organise its primary matters. In the “doors,” it enters the stage of the self-reproaching soul (Nafs al-Lawwamah) and begins to remove some of the obstacles from itself. In the “transactions,” it continues to purify itself until it finally surrenders to the Divine will. This surrender is not of compulsion but of peace and submission, which signifies a state of tranquility and acceptance of Divine ordainment.

The beginning of ethical development is marked by “patience.” One who submits must exercise patience. Those who remain steadfast in patience will become content and enter the state of “contentment” (Rida). Subsequently, through greater attention to the Divine, “modesty” (Haya) develops. After this, “truthfulness” (Siddiq), “self-sacrifice” (Ithar), “good character” (Khuluq), “humility” (Tawadu), “chivalry” (Futuwah), and “expansion” (Inbisaat) emerge in the seeker.

These ten stages ensure that a person becomes completely detached from the ego and attains a “heart.” In fact, these forty stages are the gateways to the principles and the formation of the “heart,” each one progressively elevating the soul until the “heart” becomes manifest from within it. When the seeker reaches the level of the heart, they establish their origin and root, acquiring a strength that has the capacity to unite. A person with the heart is capable of bringing things together, and in this state, the seeker develops warmth and enthusiasm.

The fourth section concerns “ethics,” but the ethics discussed here are not merely theoretical or theological. They represent a deeper, experiential, and mystical understanding. The seeker does not merely aim to adorn the soul but to transcend it through mystical ethics. Within this framework, the seeker realises virtuous characteristics (Makarim al-Akhlaq) and progresses beyond mere virtues towards higher spiritual levels. In this state, they achieve a level of trust, certainty, and inner strength in their soul, which enables them to embark on their journey.

Regarding ethics, the seeker starts with “patience” as they strive for self-discipline, especially when faced with worldly desires, challenges, and hardships. Patience in the face of physical pleasure and desires is considered more challenging than patience in the face of afflictions. This is because hardship creates a certain readiness in the soul to endure, while comfort and the pursuit of pleasures make the soul’s readiness for patience unstable.

The seeker realises that every hardship or affliction that befalls them is in accordance with Divine wisdom and the decree of God. However, patience and perseverance do not imply fatalism. Instead, the path of spiritual development involves overcoming difficulties as part of the journey. The seeker must exert effort without exhausting themselves and not be overly harsh on their soul. At times, they must deceive their ego or gently coax it, and at other times, they must force it into submission. In this process, the ego is akin to a child that must be gently guided. The seeker should interact with it with patience, kindness, and an understanding of its nature.

This process requires a spiritual guide, as the ego is very adept at deceiving the seeker. The guide knows how to approach the ego with both compassion and discipline, ensuring that the seeker does not become exhausted or discouraged along the way. As God is loving and does not impose harshness, the seeker must similarly interact with their soul with love and care rather than force. Love is expansive, unlike force, which contracts. The seeker must learn to engage their soul in a manner that is gentle and filled with love, for it is only through such love that the soul will transform.

Once the seeker achieves patience, they move into the stage of “contentment” (Rida), where they accept whatever has been decreed by God. One who is content with the Divine will expresses gratitude (Shukr) for whatever they are given, even if it is a trial. The person who reaches this stage is able to see every experience, even hardship, as a divine gift. Imam Khomeini, for example, regarded the martyrdom of his son, Mustafa, as a hidden blessing from God, which strengthened his faith.

The next stage is modesty (Haya), which stems from a heightened awareness of God and His presence. The seeker, at this stage, no longer seeks anything other than what is decreed for them by God. This leads to the cultivation of “truthfulness” (Siddiq), which represents a middle point in moral development. The seeker, now firmly grounded in truth, can stand with resolve and fearlessness, yet they must still be vigilant of their ego to avoid falling back into it.

After truthfulness comes “self-sacrifice” (Ithar), a stage where the seeker learns to give away what they possess, making no distinction between wealth and poverty. The ego no longer clings to material possessions, and selflessness becomes the dominant trait. At this point, the seeker can reach the stage of “good character” (Khuluq), characterised by cheerful spirit, freedom, and nobility.

The stage that follows is “humility” (Tawadu), where the seeker comes to see the power and wisdom of God manifested in others. They view others not through the lens of their mistakes but with understanding and respect, recognising the divine wisdom in each person. This perspective prevents them from holding grudges or making judgments based on superficial qualities.

Humility in this context fosters a sense of shared humanity and connection. The seeker learns to offer others their wealth and goodness, while keeping their own difficulties to themselves. As noted in Nahj al-Balagha, the believer’s face shows joy, but their sorrow remains in their heart. This reflects the seeker’s ability to endure the burdens of others without complaint, as they recognise that true strength lies in patience and forbearance.

When the seeker reaches the stage of “chivalry” (Futuwah), they demonstrate moral courage and selflessness. Their heart becomes pure and they no longer identify with their ego. They achieve “expansion” (Inbisaat)—a state of radiance and joy that extends to everyone they meet. At this stage, the seeker perceives all people as being part of the same divine plan, and they see the divine wisdom in everything.

A key principle for the seeker is not to confront others aggressively, but to always act with compassion and love. As the Qur’an states, “If you love God, follow me and God will love you” (3:31), the true expression of love is in following the Divine path, which leads to mutual respect, understanding, and unity.

In conclusion, the seeker who reaches the stage of humility and has gained the virtues of truthfulness, self-sacrifice, good character, and expansion is able to live in harmony with others. They view others’ mistakes with understanding and always seek to rectify and guide, rather than criticize. The community where individuals are united in love and mutual respect is one where spiritual guidance and the principles of Amr bil Ma’ruf (commanding good) and Nahi anil Munkar (forbidding evil) can truly thrive.

When the state of expansion manifests, the stages of the soul conclude, and the “intention” solidifies, the “determination” to journey towards the Divine and direct oneself towards the station of the inner secret becomes pure. This is because the soul, which had previously been an obstacle for the seeker, now becomes a helper. A sincere intention is the first principle; because access to the Lord and entering the realm of nearness can only occur in the realm of the heart. As stated by Jesus (peace be upon him) about God: “Neither My heaven nor My earth can contain Me, but the heart of My believing servant can contain Me.” Therefore, the seeker responds with a correct determination to the call of the Divine through the will, which is the attachment of the heart to the Divine in seeking closeness. The seeker is then trained in the etiquette of being in the Divine presence until certainty reaches its peak, bringing comfort and intimacy with God, and thus the seeker becomes forgetful of anything other than the Divine. This is the station of the heart’s remembrance, which can only be achieved by forgetting the other and turning away from everything other than the Divine. This is the station of poverty, which is only attained by someone who possesses the richness of the Divine. This is reflected in the saying of the Prophet (peace be upon him): “Richness is the richness of the heart.” With this, the seeker is protected by God from sin, and a barrier is placed between him and disobedience. As such, it is said: “Infallibility is a light that is cast into the heart, and by this light the soul becomes illuminated, making sin impossible for the one who possesses it.” This is the station of desire.

The Stages of the Principles

In the fourth section of the journey, the seeker seeks to expand and unfold further, just as the perfection of a flower is its blooming. A flower, when still a bud, remains contracted, but its perfection is realized when it blossoms and opens. Likewise, the perfection of a person lies in their expansion. The expanded person becomes noble and courageous, and no fear or danger remains for them. Such a person is open and welcoming of every risk. The state of expansion corresponds to the spiritual courage of the soul. A soul becomes courageous when it expands. Someone who is fearful does not experience expansion and is trapped in contraction. The ultimate growth of the human soul is in its expansion. With the emergence of the light of expansion, the stages of the soul are completed, and the journey of the soul reaches its end. The seeker now embarks on their journey with the “heart,” and the principles (usul) begin to unfold. Many seekers, who mistakenly come to be known as complete mystics, remain trapped in the stages of the soul, having no higher achievement than these stages. The number of seekers who do not progress beyond the soul’s stage is not small, but even this level of growth is considered a high accomplishment, although compared to the higher spiritual accomplishments of the heart, it is not seen as significant. The reason why these seekers are mistakenly regarded as perfect mystics is that their outward spiritual growth in the realm of the soul is apparent, while those who are truly capable mystics, who have reached beyond the heart, possess inner growth that is not visible to ordinary people.

As mentioned earlier, the fifth stage, the stage of principles (usul), takes place in the realm of the “heart.” Once the seeker reaches the state of expansion, no further growth occurs in the soul. Just as the ultimate growth of a flower is its full bloom, a flower becomes complete when it expands and unfolds. However, after that, the flower wilts, while humans, unlike flowers, give birth to their inner being—their heart—which becomes manifest. A person realizes that they possess a heart, just as someone who reaches adulthood becomes aware of the seed within them, or as a poet begins to feel the flow of poetry within themselves. The soul, which had previously obstructed and interfered with the journey, now becomes a helper and ally to the heart, serving instead of ruling.

The stages of the principles (usul) include: “intention,” “determination,” “will,” “etiquette,” “certainty,” “intimacy,” “remembrance,” “poverty,” “richness,” and “desire.”

The principles begin with “intention” and then “determination.” It should be noted that it is the heart that can form intention, determination, and will. To explain this, which falls within the realm of psychology and is not often addressed in mystical literature, the first forty stages of the journey are all concerned with the soul. Each stage is a step in the development of the soul. However, once the seeker reaches the principles, the driving force of the soul is replaced by the driving force of the heart, and from this point forward, the growth of the person becomes internal and highly concealed, in contrast to the stages of the soul, which are external and visible.

The heart has various levels, as the Qur’an says: “They have hearts with which they do not understand” (Qur’an 7:179). One can have a heart but lack the ability to understand or sense with it, just as a newborn has the full apparatus to perceive but cannot yet use it. Every person has many hearts, but they do not use them and remain at the level of potential. In the principles, the first level of the heart is activated. A person at the level of the soul enjoys their own states and accomplishments, but God is not central in this state. At the level of the heart, however, it is the inner aspect of the soul that begins to move forward. From within the soul, something new appears, and the seeker, at this point, becomes focused on the Divine Presence. When the seeker finds their heart, the stages of intention, determination, and will start to unfold, and the journey toward God begins anew.

In the heart’s station, there are no longer pleasures of the soul, but rather the presence of God is felt. The seeker arrives at the intention, which is the desire for proximity to God, but this is still the stage of intention, not movement. Determination comes when the heart gathers its energy, and will comes after it, where the seeker moves forward. The journey towards the Divine starts here, with the manifestation of “etiquette,” “intimacy,” “certainty,” and “remembrance.”

At the level of the heart, the seeker no longer seeks the pleasures of the soul. Instead, the seeker seeks the presence of God and the intention of closeness. The intention is the secret of the heart, the essence of its life. One who is alive in their heart can form true intentions. Before reaching the heart, the inner perfections and intentions of the person remain hidden, and they remain focused on the pleasures of the soul, like the delights of paradise for those attached to the soul. Even if they enter paradise, they will be given pleasures such as “Houris, secluded in tents,” or “gardens beneath which rivers flow.” These are the pleasures of the soul’s paradise, but the paradise of the heart is of a much higher level.

After intention and determination, “will” is formed. The will consolidates the energies of the body, just like the brake system of a car, which gathers energy to bring the car to a stop. Without sufficient energy in the will, no action is taken. Will is described in the Qur’an as: “And whoever is protected from the greed of their soul, those are the successful ones” (Qur’an 59:9). One who cannot regulate their will will find themselves lost. The seeker must avoid things that weaken their will and engage in practices that strengthen it. Regular prayer, remembrance of God, recitation of the Qur’an, solitude, and darkness all strengthen the will.

When the seeker reaches the level of will, they find an inner strength that propels them forward. Up to this point, their efforts have been focused on overcoming obstacles and preparing the ground for their journey, finding pleasure in this self-discipline. They enjoyed their noble actions and the happiness they found in prayer and other acts of worship. However, all these actions serve as steps along the way, and from now on, the seeker should not carry their previous actions on their back. They must leave each step behind as they progress, not burdening themselves with unnecessary weight, as this would slow their progress and distance them from the Divine.

With the emergence of the heart, the soul becomes an ally to it, and from this point onward, it is God who is at work, not the soul and its desires. The seeker at this stage becomes true in their heart, and the sincerity they had before was only an outward sincerity related to the soul. The sincerity of the soul is outward and expansive, whereas the sincerity of the heart is secret and inward. From this point forward, no station or quality is of value without sincerity. Justice is also a result of sincerity. Without sincerity and justice, one has nothing. The sincere and just person is the one who possesses the essence of all perfections, and even if they die with only these two qualities, they have attained a very high level of perfection.

The one who possesses a heart is ready to receive God, just as a broken heart is the abode of God, whether the owner is a believer or a disbeliever. The person can become one with the will, free from the desires of the soul, and set their intention and determination solely for the closeness to God. This is where “etiquette” emerges—when the seeker feels the presence of God and becomes aware of the Divine watching over them. Every presence has its own etiquette, and the seeker must adhere to it, abandoning personal desires and habits. With the arrival of etiquette, the Divine limits come into play, and the seeker complies with what

You are present, but you do not have knowledge; if the truth were revealed to you, you would not even be willing to bury one another. The saints of God perceive the truth of everyone and everything, yet they remain silent, while others, if they glimpse even a fraction of the truth, would cry out. The type of knowledge referenced in this context is not verbal knowledge but direct, experiential knowledge. A believer, in this respect, acts with the light of God, and with this divine illumination, they perceive the truth of everything. However, this perception is contingent upon the depth of their journey through the spiritual realms.

As reported by Ahmad ibn Abi Abdillah al-Barqi, from his father, from Sulayman ibn Ja’far al-Ja’fari, from Abu al-Hasan al-Ridha (peace be upon him), who said: “O Sulayman, indeed, God Almighty created the believer from His light, coloured them with His mercy, and took their covenant with us in the matter of guardianship. Thus, the believer is the brother of another believer in terms of their father and mother: his father is the light, and his mother is mercy. Beware of the insight of the believer, for he sees with the light of God from which he was created.” (Al-Kafi, vol. 2, p. 118)

The believer works with the vision of their own light, which is God’s light, not with spoken words, for words do not constitute true knowledge. In addition to knowledge and wisdom, the believer also possesses insight, which is a deeper, intuitive form of understanding. The trials faced on the spiritual path serve to broaden the mind of the seeker, opening their heart to a greater capacity for analysis and true understanding. The difficult conditions, such as the intense heat of the path, refine the seeker’s faculties, providing them with “farsight” or “perceptiveness.” This insight allows them to discern subtle matters and phenomena, similar to the study of physiognomy or palmistry, which, while not mystical in nature, are based on experience and observation.

A person with farsight can see through appearances and detect concealed intentions, and the saints, possessing this sharp insight, avoid revealing what they see. As stated in the “Misbah al-Shari’a”: “Lower your gazes and you will witness miracles.” A seeker must avoid prying into the private lives of others, as this leads to distraction and neglect of God. In the stage of farsight, the seeker detaches from the surface realities of existence, entering a stage where they experience divine inspiration. This stage also brings a sense of peace and serenity.

The final stage of the spiritual path, known as the stage of “resolve,” is where the seeker becomes hardened and strengthened through afflictions. A person of true resolve is one who loves others, for God bestows trials upon those He loves to refine them. The world of Nasut (the world of human experience) serves as the place where one must be tempered, honed, and tested. The saints of God journey through it to achieve this maturity and perfection.

The seeker, in this context, requires a guide or mentor who is well-versed in navigating the afflictions and obstacles that arise on the path. Without such guidance, the seeker may fall victim to the weight of the trials, either being consumed by them or failing to grow. The mentor is like a coach, constantly ensuring the seeker remains on track and does not become overwhelmed by the heat of the trials.

The commentator explains that once the seeker completes the stages of foundational development, they enter the realm of afflictions, which are likened to the challenging terrain of mountains, valleys, and hills. The enlightened intellect of the seeker at this point is no longer ordinary but is illuminated by the light of the heart. The intellect in this stage is no longer calculating or focused on worldly gains, but rather it is a heart-led, altruistic intellect that directs the seeker towards spiritual goals.

The intellect of the seeker is illuminated by divine light, akin to the way a wrestler is under the careful observation of a mentor, who keeps a watchful eye on every aspect of the seeker’s journey. The seeker’s intellect is their decision-making process, but the light of divine attention, which continually assists the seeker, ensures they do not falter. The seeker must constantly seek God’s support, never relying solely on their own strength. As the seeker progresses, they must remain vigilant, knowing that their fall from grace is imminent if they lose their connection to this divine support: “O God, do not leave me to myself for the blink of an eye.” Without God’s divine intervention, the seeker may collapse under the burden of the trials.

The dangers of the spiritual path are both illuminating and intense, requiring the seeker to understand that they are never alone. God’s assistance comes in many forms, sometimes through external means, and sometimes directly. The seeker must not believe they face these challenges alone; rather, God’s help is always present, even if it is not immediately visible.

Those who are spiritually advanced can, by God’s grace, find sweetness even in the bitterest trials. For them, what would typically be perceived as suffering becomes a source of joy. In contrast, those less advanced may see the affliction as pure torment, not yet having reached the stage where they can find joy in the trials.

This process of affliction and refinement leads the seeker to an advanced spiritual state known as “the state of resolve” (himma). The seeker’s endurance through the trials increases their love and devotion, and they are now able to perform their spiritual practices with love rather than obligation. At this stage, the seeker no longer sees worship and spiritual work as burdensome duties, but as acts of love and devotion.

The seeker at this stage has warmed up spiritually and is now prepared to face the ultimate trials and blessings with strength and grace. The sweetness of the trials is felt deeply, and they become a source of divine connection rather than suffering. This transformative process allows the seeker to reach the level of the “spiritual state” (al-hāl), where their resolve and devotion are solidified, and they begin to experience the divine presence more intimately.

The seventh section of the spiritual path is that of “spiritual states” (ahwāl), where the seeker experiences various internal shifts that cannot be fully described in words, yet they are vital for recognising one’s progress. The seeker begins to experience an inner transformation where their willpower is completely overtaken by love, and their longing for the Beloved increases. This internal shift involves a growing thirst, a sense of yearning, and a profound emotional state that eventually leads the seeker to spiritual satisfaction and union with the Divine.

In this stage, the seeker is not simply performing acts of worship as duties but is drawn to them out of love and passion. The inner transformation makes their devotion effortless and filled with love, and it is in this state that they find the true meaning of spiritual growth.

Understanding the Inaccessible: A Deep Dive into the Divine and Mystical Realms

The deeper realms of divine knowledge and mysticism are beyond the grasp of ordinary minds. The closer one approaches the divine, the more one is consumed by fear and awe, a fear so intense that it might lead to physical collapse. However, God’s love for His servants prevents this from happening, as He does not reveal Himself fully to avoid the potential harm caused by the overwhelming nature of such an encounter. Even the saints of God, should they reveal their true essence to such seekers, would invoke such fear and awe that it might lead to self-destruction.

The saints show kindness to others, withholding their own greatness to prevent overwhelming them. It is crucial to understand that approaching God and His saints is not as simple as it might appear to ordinary minds; it is a profoundly terrifying undertaking, except for those who have undergone the trials of divine affliction, sensing its intense heat and transforming that into spiritual warmth.

A true seeker progresses through hardships and trials, eventually reaching the inner sanctum of the heart and attaining divine gifts. From this point on, it is not personal will that drives them, but love—a love that compels action without the need for conscious effort or calculation. This love, unlike mere will, does not seek to fulfill duties or obligations but rather is a spontaneous expression of devotion, driving the individual to act out of love, not calculation.

A true seeker will willingly walk paths fraught with danger, where the only outcome might be the shedding of blood or the loss of honour. However, because they have been warmed by love, they embrace these hardships with joy. One must recognise that only someone with intense passion and warmth can make such a sacrifice. Witnessing martyrdom, in its purest form, is the peak of spiritual ascent—its fervour is a fire so intense that it burns away everything, including one’s sense of self.

The martyrdom and struggle through hardship are not random but follow a systematic and structured path. The ancestor of a martyr might have traversed many spiritual paths over generations, accumulating merit, so that today, their descendants might attain martyrdom without realising that they are the product of the struggles of those who came before them. Upon crossing into the afterlife, the martyr might realise that their sacrifice is the fruit of the efforts of their ancestors.

The Role of Love in Mystical Progress

The first stage in the mystical journey is “love,” a concept I have discussed in greater detail in the second volume of my commentary on the Quran, titled The Face of Love. Love is not just an emotion but the driving force that propels the seeker forward in their journey towards the divine. Love is followed by “zeal” or “fervour,” which, in those with a cold nature, manifests as a lack of passion or urgency. As the seeker progresses, they develop a fervent desire for the divine, marked by an insatiable yearning to witness God’s presence.

This yearning, or “shauq,” is different from love in that it propels the seeker towards an encounter with the divine, reviving a deep thirst within them. This intense longing transforms them, making them restless, eager, and unable to settle. Such a seeker’s desire cannot be quenched by any worldly pleasure, for their only aim is to behold the divine. The seeker, like someone suffering from thirst, is driven by an insatiable desire for the divine presence. However, God’s presence is veiled, and the seeker experiences moments of intense longing, which only deepen their thirst.

This thirst is similar to the agony experienced by the children of Imam Hussein during the battle of Karbala. They, in their thirst, would press their bodies to the moist ground, yet this only intensified their longing, not alleviating it. Through these experiences, God intended to prove the innocence of the children and solidify the truth of Imam Hussein’s mission, ensuring that no one would ever doubt the validity of his struggle, even if humanity were to live for another thousand years.

The Seekers’ Thirst and Divine Encounter

This thirst for the divine leads to “wajd,” an ecstatic state of being where the seeker experiences moments of divine revelation. The seeker, in their longing, is caught in a paradox: they come close to the divine but can never fully grasp it. This intense spiritual experience, as seen in the story of Karbala, does not quench the seeker’s thirst but intensifies it. God reveals Himself momentarily, only to withdraw again, leaving the seeker in a state of longing and confusion.

In these moments of revelation, the seeker becomes overwhelmed, and the spiritual experience leads to greater thirst, much like the thirst of the children in Karbala. This is the state of “wajd”—an ephemeral vision of the divine that only heightens the longing and spiritual desire. The seeker is like someone bitten by a snake, constantly writhing and longing for the ultimate vision of the divine, yet trapped in a cycle of revelation and concealment.

God’s purpose in this interaction with the seeker is to deepen their desire, pulling them into an intense yearning that leads them through various trials. The process culminates in a state where the seeker, having gone through numerous spiritual experiences, reaches the ultimate stage of divine revelation, where the barriers between them and the divine are broken down.

Entering the Realm of Wilaya (Divine Authority)

The seeker, upon reaching the final stages of their spiritual journey, enters the realm of “wilaya,” the divine authority. The stages of wilaya consist of various phases, each marked by intense spiritual experiences. These include “lahz,” the moment of initial revelation, “waqt,” the time when the seeker becomes immersed in divine presence, and “safa,” the clarity that comes with the removal of all obstacles. Each stage of wilaya brings the seeker closer to the divine, eventually culminating in the full realization of the self’s true nature as one with God.

The seeker who attains wilaya reaches a state where they no longer act out of personal desire or will. Instead, they are guided entirely by divine love and authority. This is the point at which the seeker transcends their ego and becomes one with God, manifesting divine will in their actions. They move from being an individual self to being a vessel of divine will, embodying the essence of God’s love and authority in all that they do.

In this state of wilaya, the seeker’s actions are no longer their own; they are guided entirely by the divine. Every word they speak, every action they take, reflects the will of God. This is the ultimate state of spiritual perfection, where the seeker becomes a true servant and representative of the divine.

The Final Stages of Wilaya: Divine Favour and the Union with God

The final stages of wilaya involve the complete dissolution of the seeker’s ego and the full manifestation of divine presence. The seeker becomes immersed in the light of divine wisdom and authority, their personal identity melting away as they are absorbed into the divine. At this point, the seeker becomes not just a servant of God but a manifestation of God’s will on Earth.

This journey, marked by suffering, longing, and divine revelation, culminates in the seeker’s transformation into a true “wali Allah” (friend of God), embodying the divine presence in the world. The trials faced along the way—whether internal struggles, external hardships, or moments of intense longing—serve to purify the seeker, allowing them to attain the highest levels of spiritual authority and closeness to God.

Conclusion: The Path to Wilaya and the Ultimate Union with the Divine

In conclusion, the journey through wilaya is one of profound transformation. From the initial stages of love and longing to the ultimate realization of divine presence, the seeker traverses a path of purification and enlightenment. Through trials, suffering, and divine revelations, they shed their ego and become vessels of divine will. The ultimate goal of this journey is union with the divine, where the seeker’s individual will is completely aligned with God’s will, and they live as embodiments of divine love and authority.

The seeker who attains wilaya is not just a spiritual being; they are a manifestation of God’s will on Earth, a true servant of the divine. Through their experiences, they demonstrate the ultimate truth of divine authority and love, leading others to the path of spiritual realization.

The heart is heavy and possesses weight, unlike a material that could enable flight. It is not made of a substance that allows it to soar. Thus, to fully understand, we must say that it becomes a charred remnant, burnt beyond recognition. To journey through the stages of spiritual ascendancy, the heart, like a heavy vehicle, does not have the capacity to rise. For flight, it needs a lighter substance, one with the ability to ascend into the heavens – and that is the soul. The door to the spiritual realms is the door to the soul.

The first stage of the spiritual journey is “Lahz” (glimpse), and its end is “Tamkin” (establishment). Just as the seeker experiences a taste of God’s attributes in the stage of “Dhawq” (taste), in the stage of Lahz, they witness the Divine essence, not its attributes. In Lahz, the seeker glimpses the Divine essence for a moment, unlike Dhawq, where they taste an attribute. This glimpse is the slightest vision of the Divine, and it may even happen when a child in the cradle sees the essence of God. Upon this, their life becomes inseparable from this vision. Such a beloved person, who has witnessed the Divine essence, can never be abandoned by God.

The next stage in the journey is “Waqt” (time), which is broader and more expansive than Lahz. In this stage, the seeker experiences a state (Haal), related to the vision of the Divine essence. However, this state is transient—it exists sometimes and not at other times. Therefore, such a seeker experiences “Talon” (changeability). Even in the realm of spiritual authority, this changeability is present. For example, Prophet Abraham, when asked to sacrifice his son, experienced this change in perspective. Initially, he did not proceed with the command in his dreams, but after the third vision, he sacrificed a ram. On the other hand, Imam Hussein, in the battle of Karbala, dismissed all his companions the night before the final battle, telling them that they could leave in the cover of darkness, as he alone was meant to face the enemy.

In the spiritual path, “Safa” (purity) is the third stage. This is where the Talon (changeability) and state (Haal) are removed. At this stage, the seeker becomes pure, and their position becomes unshakeable. After Safa, the state of “Surur” (joy) arises, signifying the absence of the possibility of returning to the previous stages. The seeker has reached a point where they cannot go back, and this gives them constant peace and joy. The seeker, in this state of purity, cannot fall back into the previous stages, as they are now firmly established in their state.

The fifth stage is “Sirr” (secret). In this stage, the seeker becomes lost in themselves, meaning that although they are now firmly established in their journey and cannot be rejected, they find nothing of themselves in their interior. Their self-awareness dissolves, and they experience “Istarar” (concealment) rather than “Istitar” (covering), which is the state of hiding from the external world. They no longer distinguish between themselves and God, as both are hidden from each other. This is where the seeker enters the state of “Hayrat” (bewilderment). In this state, the seeker no longer knows who they are, whether they are themselves or something else. They experience a state of bewilderment and confusion as they lose the distinction between the self and the Divine. It is at this point that one can say in their prayers: “O God, increase me in confusion in You.”

The seeker, lost in bewilderment and confusion, eventually experiences “Nafs al-Rahman” (the breath of the Merciful), which illuminates them to realise that the confusion is not their own, but a reflection of the Divine. They now sense a breeze that is not their own, and they understand that they are no longer the one experiencing the sense of self. This is the sixth stage in the spiritual path.

Following these stages, the seeker enters the more difficult stages of the journey, namely “Ghorba” (estrangement), “Gharq” (drowning), and “Ghaybah” (absence). These stages are the most challenging in the spiritual journey. The seeker becomes completely immersed in the Divine, and their worldly concerns are no longer relevant. As the seeker experiences these stages, they become alienated from the world and from their own self. They encounter trials that are deeply challenging, and their attachment to the world begins to dissolve.

The final stage is “Tamkin” (empowerment), in which the seeker is granted the ability to act as the Divine wills. They now have full access to the Divine truths and understandings, and they experience a state of complete empowerment. In this stage, the seeker is able to act on the Divine’s behalf, becoming a fully established and empowered servant of God.

In the first six stages, the seeker is still testing their own inner resolve, whereas, in the last stage, they have reached the point of Tamkin, where they can receive and enact Divine wisdom and guidance. The stages that follow are filled with challenges, and they test the seeker to their limits, demanding a profound connection with God. Only when the seeker has passed through these stages can they be considered to have entered into the higher spiritual realms.

The stages of Ghorba, Gharq, and Ghaybah represent the most intense period of trial in the spiritual journey. The seeker becomes estranged from the world, and this estrangement leads to a profound internal transformation. The seeker enters the stage of Tamkin, in which they are empowered to fulfil God’s commands with complete strength and understanding. At this stage, the seeker experiences true spiritual authority, and they are able to fully serve and embody the Divine truths.

They appear completely ordinary, with no arrogance or otherworldliness manifesting in them, yet they possess all the processes mentioned above. However, it is rare for a beloved traveller to maintain such a state and conceal it. Most travellers lose themselves in their visions and speak about them. The inability to conceal one’s experience is the worst affliction and harm for the traveller. If one shares their discovery, they diminish their own power. The vision of truths regarding connection and separation reaches its peak in such a state, and they experience manifestations, perfections, blessings, visions, and powers, reaching a point where they perceive that it would be better not to see at all. In this state, as soon as they think of something in their heart, it materializes, and it becomes actualized within them. This is akin to someone whose prayers are always answered; whenever they pray, it happens. Likewise, the traveller in this state finds that as soon as something crosses their heart, they perceive it, and if any power occurs to them, they possess it. This is among the highest levels of mastery. The complete saints of God attain such mastery that their thoughts become realizations. However, they control their thoughts and impulses. For instance, if a saint were to think of destroying an enemy, that enemy would die instantly, but the true saint would not have such a thought, for it is only God who acts in such a way. God grants this mastery to His saints, so that when they reach such stages, they are able to preserve themselves. They possess power, yet they must refrain from using it and sleep in hunger. They reach the state of “Be!” as stated in the Quran: (When He wills a thing, He only says to it ‘Be,’ and it is) [Quran 36:82]. The “fa” in the verse indicates a linguistic consequence, meaning that “Be” and “It is” are one in their actuality. The saints of God are such that their thoughts are identical to their realizations, whether the thought is intellectual, volitional, or an expression of power. The knowledge and understanding of the Imams are also in the same way, coming through volition and disclosure; and with their thoughts, they see and understand what they wish to.

This ability to manifest any phenomenon within oneself and receive information about it without needing to speak or receive knowledge from angels or intermediaries is a sign of mastery. The traveller, in the realm of truths, must be cautious not to misuse this power, as doing so would lead to their stagnation. This power is a trust from God, and guarding it is a very difficult task. While a saint of God possesses mastery and holds truths within themselves, they must refrain from using it, as all this power is meant to help them endure the immense weight of “Tawhid” (monotheism). In other words, everything belongs to its rightful owner, and this power must be surrendered to God. It is true that one could use this power, but it is not for the traveller, but for “Tawhid.” All the stages and challenges mentioned earlier, with their difficulties and supernatural powers, exist for the attainment of “Tawhid” and not for possessing supernatural powers themselves. God tests the traveller in this regard: If they are not careful and misuse their power, they will lose the nearness they have gained and move far away. The path of truth is the path of concealment. It is surprising to see those who are found in different corners of the world, claiming to be mystics and having international recognition, using their powers for self-display. Such usage of power contradicts their claims, because a true mystic would use none of it. Someone who boldly displays their powers in front of people is clearly not on the path, but rather running a business for profit, and their power does not support any deep knowledge or nearness to God, but rather moves them farther from it.

Unfortunately, our society has little understanding of mysticism and naively accepts anyone as a mystic who claims to be one, promoting and following simple miracles. God’s saints do not use their miraculous powers for display, and they live amongst people in an ordinary manner (as stated in the Quran: “He eats food and walks in the marketplaces”) [Quran 25:7]. A true saint is someone who seeks “Tawhid” and conceals it. Yes, the complete saints may sometimes exhibit a rare expression of their power, but not as a norm. The true value of the realm of truths is the entrance into Tawhid. Tawhid is the path of activation, and this path requires tremendous effort. No one reaches Tawhid easily. God first tests the traveller, with all the mastery they possess, to see whether they are willing to relinquish this heavy burden and power. Only upon success does He grant them the permission to enter the final stages and the station of Tawhid, which is the ultimate goal of the journey.

Truths must be concealed and not openly revealed. The manifest is part of nature, and one should not inject the knowledge gained from beyond nature into the natural world. The prophets and saints of God lived among people in an ordinary way, not using their powers of mastery. If someone is a saint of God and intends to move using their power, none of the creatures can stand before them, and their use of power would deprive the creatures and degrade the creation of God. Any ordinary person who sees such an individual with all their power and grandeur would become disheartened, saying that they have nothing, much like a poor person who feels ashamed in front of wealth. The true saint does not open up their store of power, but spreads a table like an ordinary servant, not causing embarrassment to others. If the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) had used His power, no one would have dared to disbelieve, and no one would have opposed Him, creating a complete existential censorship that would disturb the balance of creation. The system of: (Indeed, We have guided him to the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful) [Quran 76:3] would be replaced by the system of: (He has subjected to you whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth) [Quran 45:13].

Thus, the saints of God, by not using their powers, allow the system of free will to remain intact. Solomon (AS) was the only saint who revealed some of his power, controlling jinn, humans, animals, ants, birds, and natural forces like the wind. However, all, whether jinn or human, became exhausted by it, to the extent that his death did not disturb his people, as they were relieved and said, “Now we are free and can live as we wish.” Such a government does not lead people to perfection and does not distinguish the righteous from the wicked. God does not wish to send His saints among His people in a manner that strips them of their free will. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) repeatedly called: “O people, say ‘There is no god but God,’ and you will prosper.” Yet, their ears were deaf to this call.

The Prophet treated people according to their will, nature, and disposition, not through the power of His sanctity and mastery, so that it could truly be known who was righteous and who was wicked. God’s saints walk humbly among people, such that no one would say, “This is someone special.” In fact, if a stranger entered the mosque, they would not be able to distinguish the Prophet (PBUH) from others; they would see Him as just another person.

To conclude, in order to clarify the explanation of the commentator, let us review the text again. The commentator says that when the traveller reaches the stage of mastery, they enter the realm of “unveiling” (mukashafa). Until this point, they had been preoccupied with perceiving attributes and reaching them, without any vision. The result of their efforts is now granted to them. The commentator’s phrase “fiq‘a fi’l-mukashafa al-‘aynīya” is subtle, implying that the traveller does not actively seek unveiling. The saints of God do not pursue anything; rather, it is God who leads them step by step. Anyone who seeks to see something will not be shown it. After attaining mastery, they suddenly realize that they have been seeing all along, but because they are entangled with pains, afflictions, separations, and estrangements, they do not die upon encountering the sudden vision of the Essence. The traveller, in the realm of truths, reaches the hidden station, but still faces a problem: their dual vision, meaning they have not yet reached Tawhid. This is why the true reality of realities is the path to Tawhid, where duality is dissolved and unity takes its place. What is meant by unveiling here is not the unveiling of knowledge or inspiration, but the unveiling in the sense of seeing the ultimate truths. After this stage, the traveller reaches the station of direct vision, which is made possible by the removal of veils. The essence of this state is not intellectual but heart-based, and it leads the traveller to the third station, the station of direct perception (mu’ayana), which is seeing with the spiritual eye, not the heart or soul. We have explained this spiritual station in the section on sainthood. The spiritual station is the hidden station.

The passage provided discusses the stages of spiritual progression in the Sufi path towards the attainment of divine truth and closeness to God. The stages include various spiritual experiences, each representing a significant transformation in the soul of the seeker (Salik). Among these, the stages of Tafrid (individualization) and Tajrid (abstraction) are particularly emphasized.

In the stage of Tafrid, the seeker reaches a state of singularity and individualization with the divine. In contrast, Tajrid involves the seeker’s detachment from worldly desires and attachments, resulting in an experience of pure truth within the heart. These stages are not only spiritually challenging, but also profoundly transformative, reshaping the seeker’s inner being.

The description of the stage of Tawhid (Unity), the final step in this journey, marks the moment of complete integration with the divine, where the seeker no longer perceives any distinction between the Creator and creation. This represents the final culmination of the journey towards absolute truth, where the seeker is finally at peace with the ultimate reality.

This spiritual journey is described as a movement from the external (manifest) to the internal (hidden), and from the created world to the divine truth. The path is difficult and full of internal struggle, yet the seeker ultimately reaches a state of tranquillity and unity with the divine.

As the text suggests, the stages of Tafrid and Tajrid are particularly important as they are transformative and demand a high level of spiritual discipline. In Tafrid, the seeker experiences an intense focus on divine unity, while in Tajrid, the seeker detaches from all distractions to focus purely on the essence of the divine.

The culmination of this journey is in the state of Tawhid, where the seeker no longer sees anything apart from God, and the distinction between self and the divine is obliterated. The phrase “Shahida Allahu annahu la ilaha illa Huwa” (God bears witness that there is no deity but He) reflects this state of ultimate recognition and realization of God’s absolute oneness.

This spiritual path is characterised by its intense internal struggle, which can lead to profound transformation. The text also highlights the importance of the seeker’s purification, where any remnants of attachment to the material world are eradicated. The seeker who reaches the stage of Tawhid no longer sees the world in the same way, and the ego is surrendered to the divine.

In conclusion, this text outlines the profound journey of spiritual growth, emphasizing the difficulty and the high level of inner refinement required to reach the ultimate stage of unity with the divine. The seeker’s progression is marked by continuous refinement and an increasing clarity of understanding and connection with God.