Syria Prayer Vigil
Everybody wonders: what will it be like when the world comes to an end? Here’s what the Qur’an says about it, first in Arabic (from Surah 81):
Ithaa a-shams kuwwirat
Wa ithaa an-nujuum inkadarat
Wa ithaa al-jibaal suyyirat
Wa ithaa al-‘ishaar ‘uttilat
Wa ithaa al-wuhuush hushirat
Wa ithaa al-bihaar sujjirat
Wa ithaa an-nufuus zuwwijat
Wa ithaa al ma’udah su’ilat
Bi ayyi thanbin qutilat
Here it is in English
When the sun is folded up
and when the stars become like mud
and when the mountains are just--gone...
When is this? It’s Judgment Day. What we call ‘Nature’ begins to collapse, starting with the elements. Now come the animals:
...when the ten-month pregnant camels are abandoned
and when the wild beasts close in
To the people who first heard these words, a she-camel just about to deliver a calf was one of the greatest things you could possess--your family’s wealth and power growing by a whole camel before your very eyes. You’d never abandon such a treasure, unless the world was coming to an end--which it is, remember. If the Qur’an had first arrived in our times the verse might have been: “When the SUV’s are abandoned, with the soccer teams inside.” We don’t know much about pregnant camels here, but we love our cars and kids.
Now these things we love are left behind and the things we fear come close. I tried translating the next verse as “when the wild beasts close in,” but it could also be “when the monsters rally,” or “when the creatures of the waste gather.” Muslims say the Qur’an is untranslatable, and I do like the original language best of all--ithaa al-wuhuush hushirat--the whooshing sound of things our senses can’t quite translate into anything we know, rushing past on all sides, or rushing in on top of us.
...when the wild things close in
and when the seas boil over
So much for the elements and the animals—but what are we waiting to hear? What do we really want to know about? What about the people? How will it end for us? The passage continues by speaking about
When the souls are sorted by kind
We’ve all heard about some kind of sorting at the end of life, no matter what our religious tradition. Some will be in, some will be out; sorted up, or down—and how will it go for me, I wonder? But that’s not the question that matters right now. What is the question? No one asks us directly. We come in at the middle of a sentence:
and when the little girl who was buried alive is asked:
for what crime was she killed?
The sun has rolled up, the stars gone dark, and the mountains are simply gone. The wild beasts rush around us while the boiling seas close in. The only human sound is a question about the slaughter of the innocent. It’s not really posed to us—we are simply allowed to overhear it:
Child, for what crime were you killed? For what crime were you killed?
Did you hear it? Did you hear the question? It’s the first question on Judgment Day, the one that determines how our souls will be sorted in, or out. What about the innocent victims of human violence? Maybe they live in faraway places, but is it only your own car or kids who matter? Did you stand by them? Did you stand up for them? What did you do? What did you say? Did you at least—at the very least—pray?
It’s enough to make you think that you should have done something. And that’s the whole point. That’s what the Qur’an has set out to do—to make us think, to get us to do something before this last day of all the days that will ever be.
To do what we can for peace, now—before the sun folds up and we find ourselves trembling in the darkness.
I thank you for your kind attention. If I understand correctly, the Qur’an insists on your attention, and prays for your kindness as powerfully as it can.
Ithaa a-shams kuwwirat
Wa ithaa an-nujuum inkadarat
Wa ithaa al-jibaal suyyirat
Wa ithaa al-‘ishaar ‘uttilat
Wa ithaa al-wuhuush hushirat
Wa ithaa al-bihaar sujjirat
Wa ithaa an-nufuus zuwwijat
Wa ithaa al ma’udah su’ilat
Bi ayyi thanbin qutilat
Here it is in English
When the sun is folded up
and when the stars become like mud
and when the mountains are just--gone...
When is this? It’s Judgment Day. What we call ‘Nature’ begins to collapse, starting with the elements. Now come the animals:
...when the ten-month pregnant camels are abandoned
and when the wild beasts close in
To the people who first heard these words, a she-camel just about to deliver a calf was one of the greatest things you could possess--your family’s wealth and power growing by a whole camel before your very eyes. You’d never abandon such a treasure, unless the world was coming to an end--which it is, remember. If the Qur’an had first arrived in our times the verse might have been: “When the SUV’s are abandoned, with the soccer teams inside.” We don’t know much about pregnant camels here, but we love our cars and kids.
Now these things we love are left behind and the things we fear come close. I tried translating the next verse as “when the wild beasts close in,” but it could also be “when the monsters rally,” or “when the creatures of the waste gather.” Muslims say the Qur’an is untranslatable, and I do like the original language best of all--ithaa al-wuhuush hushirat--the whooshing sound of things our senses can’t quite translate into anything we know, rushing past on all sides, or rushing in on top of us.
...when the wild things close in
and when the seas boil over
So much for the elements and the animals—but what are we waiting to hear? What do we really want to know about? What about the people? How will it end for us? The passage continues by speaking about
When the souls are sorted by kind
We’ve all heard about some kind of sorting at the end of life, no matter what our religious tradition. Some will be in, some will be out; sorted up, or down—and how will it go for me, I wonder? But that’s not the question that matters right now. What is the question? No one asks us directly. We come in at the middle of a sentence:
and when the little girl who was buried alive is asked:
for what crime was she killed?
The sun has rolled up, the stars gone dark, and the mountains are simply gone. The wild beasts rush around us while the boiling seas close in. The only human sound is a question about the slaughter of the innocent. It’s not really posed to us—we are simply allowed to overhear it:
Child, for what crime were you killed? For what crime were you killed?
Did you hear it? Did you hear the question? It’s the first question on Judgment Day, the one that determines how our souls will be sorted in, or out. What about the innocent victims of human violence? Maybe they live in faraway places, but is it only your own car or kids who matter? Did you stand by them? Did you stand up for them? What did you do? What did you say? Did you at least—at the very least—pray?
It’s enough to make you think that you should have done something. And that’s the whole point. That’s what the Qur’an has set out to do—to make us think, to get us to do something before this last day of all the days that will ever be.
To do what we can for peace, now—before the sun folds up and we find ourselves trembling in the darkness.
I thank you for your kind attention. If I understand correctly, the Qur’an insists on your attention, and prays for your kindness as powerfully as it can.