Love

Forgiveness in the deepest place

/ Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Earlier we saw that the sound code of Arabic makes al-Ghaffar repetitive and unending. Now we see that the sound code places al-Ghafur in the group that carries the meaning of “penetrating right into the essence of a thing.” It goes right into the deepest place in the heart.

Therefore al-Ghafur goes right to the worst crime we have ever committed in our lives. It goes right to the worst thing that has ever been done to us.

Whether it is a grudge of self-loathing or a grudge held against another, the depth of feeling is the same. Allah’s forgiveness reaches that deepest place. From a medical point of view we might say that al-Ghaffar is a remedy for a chronic condition and Al-Ghafur is for an acute condition.

Contemplation on al-Ghafur is a profound and healing practice for anyone.

It is even recommended for prisoners on death row. It reaches the deepest wound. It goes right to the heart of the matter. It penetrates to the essence. Divine forgiveness reaches that which we imagined was unforgiveable. That is the quality of al-Ghafur.

The very concept of forgiveness, even in English usage, is to give up the grudge, to let go of that revenge fantasy. Forgiveness comes by giving that away.

So at this first stage in the process of learning to forgive, you need to learn to give up the revenging impulse that arises many times a day. And you also need to give up the grudge you hold about the inner wound you believe to be unforgiveable.

At this beginning stage in the process, you notice the fault either in other people or in your own self.

Again and again you are asked to give up the grudge you are holding, and to invite in al-Ghaffar and al-Ghafur. You can then awaken to a kind of compassion that actually reaches the wound and covers over the fault in a soothing way.

Both al-Ghaffar and al-Ghafur have this same root meaning of covering over in a healing kind of way.

  • from Physicians of The Heart, a Sufi view of the 99 names of Allah

Inexhaustible Forgiveness

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Al-Ghaffar is inexhaustible forgiveness. It is repetitive. Even though you may repeat the same error over and over again, you never come to the end of God’s forgiveness, which is inexhaustible. A form of the root of al-Ghaffar means a substance bees make that the Arabs used to fill in the cracks of a dried- out, old leather water skin, so that it no longer leaks. Divine forgiveness repairs human dryness and brittleness in a similar way

Invocation of Ya Ghaffar offers a healing salve that is an antidote for self-loathing, guilt, and blame. It is especially useful to bring this emanation of divine forgiveness into the places where you have been marked by impressions of self-deficiency that have been reinforced time and again. Al-Ghaffar brings moisture back into the system. An even more complete realization of the nature of divine forgiveness may occur when this Name is paired in repetition with Ya Ghafur, which shares the same root.

From Physicians of the Heart: A Sufi View of the Ninety-Nine Names of Allah

still small voice

/ Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Many voices ask for our attention. There is a voice that says, “Prove that you are a good person.” Another voice says, “You’d better be ashamed of yourself.” There also is a voice that says, “Nobody really cares about you,” and one that says, “Be sure to become successful, popular, and powerful.” But underneath all these often very noisy voices is a still, small voice that says, “You are my Beloved, my favor rests on you.” That’s the voice we need most of all to hear. To hear that voice, however, requires special effort; it requires solitude, silence, and a strong determination to listen.

That’s what prayer is. It is listening to the voice that calls us “my Beloved. – Henri Nouwen

Home by Mosab Abu Toha

/ Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

What is home:
it is the shade of trees on my way to school
    before they were uprooted.
It is my grandparents’ black-and-white wedding
    photo before the walls crumbled.
It is my uncle’s prayer rug, where dozens of ants
   slept on wintry nights, before it was looted and
   put in a museum.
It is the oven my mother used to bake bread and
   roast chicken before a bomb reduced our house
   to ashes.
It is the café where I watched football matches
   and played—

My child stops me: Can a four-letter word hold
   all of these?

Sweetness by Stephen Dunn

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Just when it has seemed I couldn’t bear 
   one more friend 
waking with a tumor, one more maniac 

with a perfect reason, often a sweetness 
   has come 
and changed nothing in the world 

except the way I stumbled through it, 
   for a while lost 
in the ignorance of loving 

someone or something, the world shrunk 
   to mouth-size, 
hand-size, and never seeming small. 

I acknowledge there is no sweetness 
   that doesn’t leave a stain, 
no sweetness that’s ever sufficiently sweet …. 

Tonight a friend called to say his lover 
   was killed in a car 
he was driving. His voice was low 

and guttural, he repeated what he needed 
   to repeat, and I repeated 
the one or two words we have for such grief 

until we were speaking only in tones. 
   Often a sweetness comes 
as if on loan, stays just long enough 

to make sense of what it means to be alive, 
   then returns to its dark 
source. As for me, I don’t care 

where it’s been, or what bitter road 
   it’s traveled 
to come so far, to taste so good.

Keeping Quiet by Pablo Neruda

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Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Chama River

Authentic freedom

/ Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Authentic freedom and love will not be captured by attachment. Therefore, the journey homeward does not lead toward new, more sophisticated addictions. If it is truly homeward, it leads toward liberation from addiction altogether. Obviously, it is a lifelong process… There is a strange sadness in this growing freedom. Our souls may have been scarred […]

Authentic freedom