Chapter Two: On the Morals of Dervishes

One of the great men asked a devout person: What do you say about a certain worshipper whom others have mocked and slandered? He replied: I see no fault in his outward conduct, and I have no knowledge of what lies hidden within him. Whoever you see dressed in the garb of piety, take him for a pious and good man. And if you do not know what is hidden inside him, what business does the inspector have inside another's house?

I saw a poor dervish pressing his forehead on the threshold of the Kaaba, saying: 'You who forgive, you who show mercy! You know what can come from someone as unjust and ignorant as I am.' I have come to apologize for falling short in my service, for I have nothing in my worship to lean on. Sinners repent of their sins; those who truly know God ask forgiveness even for their worship. The devout want a reward for their obedience, and merchants want a price for their goods. But I, your servant, have brought hope, not obedience; I have come to beg, not to trade. Do with me what befits you. At the door of the Kaaba I saw a beggar weeping sweetly as he spoke: I do not ask you to accept my worship; I only ask you to strike out my sins with the pen of pardon.

They saw Abdul-Qadir Gilani, may God's mercy be upon him, in the sanctuary of the Kaaba, his face pressed to the pebbles, saying: O Lord, forgive me! And if I truly deserve punishment, then raise me blind on the Day of Resurrection, so I will not stand ashamed before the righteous. Laying my face in the dust of my helplessness, I say each dawn when the breeze rises: 'You, whom I could never forget, does any thought of your servant ever cross your mind?'

A thief broke into the home of a devout man. He searched and searched but found nothing, and grew disheartened. The devout man learned of this, and so he tossed the very rug he had been sleeping on into the thief's path, so the man would not leave empty-handed. I have heard that those who walk the path of God never caused grief even to their enemies. How could you ever reach such a station, when you are at odds and at war even with your friends? The love of pure-hearted people is the same to your face as behind your back; it is not the kind that faults you in private while flattering you when you are near. To your face, gentle as a harmless sheep; behind your back, like a man-eating wolf. Whoever brings you the faults of others and lists them out will surely carry your faults off to others.

A group of travelers were companions on a journey, sharing its hardships and comforts. I asked to join them, but they refused. I said: it is strange, coming from the generous character of great people, to turn away from the company of the poor and withhold their benefit and blessing. For within myself I know I have the strength and quickness to be a nimble helper to good men, never a burden on their spirits. If I cannot ride the beasts of burden, I will still hurry to serve you, carrying the heavy loads myself. One of them said: do not be hurt by what you heard. Lately a thief who looked like a dervish slipped into our company and joined our fellowship. How can people know who is inside a house? Only the writer knows what is in the letter. Since dervishes are known to be harmless, no one suspected his mischief, and they took him in as a friend. The outward mark of the mystics is the patched robe; that much is enough, so long as one lives among people. Strive in good deeds and wear whatever you like: put a crown on your head, carry a banner on your shoulder. True piety is giving up the world, lust, and vain desire, not simply giving up your clothes. It is inside armor that a real man is needed; what use are weapons on a coward? One day we traveled until nightfall, then slept at the foot of a fortress. The graceless thief took his companion's water jug, saying he was going to wash for prayer, but he went off to plunder instead. Look at this so-called ascetic who put on the holy robe: he turned the cloth of the Kaaba into a donkey's saddle-blanket. As soon as he was out of the dervishes' sight, he climbed a tower and stole a casket of jewels. By the time bright day came, that dark soul had covered a good distance while his innocent companions slept. In the morning they were all dragged to the castle, beaten, and thrown in prison. From that day on we gave up all company and chose the way of solitude. And safety lies in being alone. When one person from a group acts ignorantly, neither the humble nor the great keep their standing. Have you not heard that a single cow at pasture can foul all the cows of the village? I said: thanks and praise to God, the Mighty and Glorious, that I was not left deprived of the dervishes' blessing, even if outwardly I remained apart from their company. From the story you told I gained something useful, and this advice will serve people like me all our lives. A single crude, ill-mannered person in a gathering can deeply grieve the hearts of the wise. If they fill a pool with rosewater and a dog falls in, it turns into a filthy swamp.

An ascetic was a king's guest. When they sat down to eat, he ate less than he wanted to, out of feigned piety; and when they rose to pray, he prayed more than was his habit, so that others would think better of his devotion. I fear you will never reach the Kaaba, my desert wanderer, for the road you have taken leads to Turkestan. When he got back to his own place, he called for the tablecloth so he could eat. He had a sharp-witted son who said: 'Father, didn't you eat at the king's gathering?' He replied: 'In front of them I ate nothing worth mentioning.' The son said: 'Then pray your prayers over again too, for you did nothing worth mentioning there either.' You who hold your talents out in the palm of your hand, while you tuck your faults away under your arm, what do you think you'll be able to buy, you deluded fool, on the day of ruin, with your counterfeit coin?

I remember that in my childhood I was devout, rising for prayer at night, passionate about piety and self-denial. One night I sat beside my father, may God have mercy on him, and I did not close my eyes the whole night, holding the precious Quran in my arms while a group of people slept around us. I said to my father: Not one of these people lifts his head to say even a couple of prayers. They are so lost in the sleep of neglect, you would think they were not sleeping but dead. He said: My dear son, it would be better if you slept too, rather than fall into slandering other people. The one who makes accusations sees no one but himself, for a curtain of vanity hangs before his eyes. If they granted you the eye that sees as God sees, you would find no one more helpless than yourself.

At a gathering, people were praising one of the great men and exaggerating his fine qualities. He raised his head and said: I am only what I know myself to be. You have spared me pain, you who count up my virtues: this is only my outward self, and you have no idea what lies within. In the eyes of the world my person looks handsome, but the corruption inside me bows my head in shame. People admire the peacock for the patterns and colors it wears, yet the bird is ashamed of its own ugly feet.

One of the holy men of Lebanon, whose spiritual ranks were spoken of throughout the Arab lands and whose miracles were famous, entered the great mosque of Damascus. As he was performing his ablutions by the edge of the Kallasa pool, his foot slipped, he fell into the basin, and only with great difficulty pulled himself out. When they had finished the prayer, one of his companions said: There is something that troubles me, if I may be allowed to ask it. He said: What is it? He said: I remember that the sheikh once walked across the surface of the western sea and his foot never got wet. What was the state today that in a mere hand's depth of water you nearly drowned? The sheikh sank into thought, and after long reflection he raised his head and said: Have you not heard that the Master of the world, peace be upon him, said: 'There is a moment I have with God that no angel drawn near nor prophet sent can contain me in'? And he did not say 'always.' At such a moment as he described, he could give no attention even to Gabriel and Michael; yet at other times he lived with Hafsa and Zaynab. The witnessing of the righteous lies between revelation and concealment. They show themselves, and they steal the heart away. You show your face, then you turn away; you drive up your own market and stoke our fire high. I gaze upon the one I love with nothing in between, and a state overtakes me that leads me further astray.

Someone asked the father who had lost his son: You, bright-souled and wise old man, You caught the scent of his shirt all the way from Egypt, so why couldn't you see him in the well of Canaan? He said: our states are like lightning in this world, one moment visible, the next moment gone. Sometimes we sit upon the highest throne, sometimes we can't even see our own feet. If a seeker could stay fixed in a single state, he would shake both worlds off the back of his hand.

In the great mosque of Baalbek, I was preaching, speaking to a crowd that was cold and dead at heart, people who had never crossed from the world of appearances into the world of meaning. I saw that my breath caught no spark in them; my fire had no effect on such damp wood. It grieved me to train cattle and hold up a mirror in a town of the blind. Yet the door of meaning stood open, and the thread of my words ran long. Explaining the meaning of the verse, 'And We are closer to him than his own jugular vein,' I carried the speech to the point where I said: The Friend is nearer to me than I am to myself; yet how strange, that I am still far from him. What can I do? Who is there to tell? That he is right beside me, and still I am exiled. I was drunk on the wine of these words, the dregs still in my cup, when a traveler passing by the edge of the gathering felt that final round take hold of him. He cried out, and the others joined him in an uproar, while the unripe hearts in the crowd began to stir. I said: God be praised! The distant ones, who understand, are truly present, while those nearby, who cannot see, are truly far. When the listener does not grasp the words, do not look for eloquence from the speaker. Give me the open field of a willing heart, and then watch the speaker score his goal.

One night in the desert near Mecca, sleeplessness left me too weak to walk. I lay down and told the camel driver: leave me alone. How far can a poor traveler go on foot, when even the strong camel has broken down from strain? By the time a heavy body grows thin from hardship, a thin one will already be dead. He said: brother, the sanctuary lies ahead and bandits behind. If you keep moving, you win; if you sleep, you die. Sweet it is to sleep beneath the desert thorns on the road, the night of departure, but you must first say goodbye to your life.

By the sea I saw a devout man who bore the wound of a leopard's claw, and no medicine could heal it. For a long time he suffered from it, yet he never stopped thanking God, the Mighty and Glorious. When they asked him, 'Why do you give thanks?' he said, 'I give thanks that I am struck by a misfortune and not by a sin.' If that dear beloved has me killed in agony, don't imagine that in that moment I would grieve for my life. I would say: what wrong came from this wretched servant that left my beloved's heart hurt? That is my only sorrow.

A dervish, driven by need, stole a rug from the house of a friend. The ruler ordered that his hand be cut off. The owner of the rug pleaded for him, saying: I have forgiven him. The ruler said: Even for your sake, I will not set aside the punishment prescribed by law. The man said: What you have declared is true, yet whoever steals from property given as charitable endowment need not have his hand cut off, for 'a poor man owns nothing.' Whatever belongs to dervishes is an endowment for the needy. The ruler let him go and began to reproach him, saying: Had the whole world grown so narrow for you that you could rob no house but the house of such a friend? He replied: My lord, haven't you heard the saying: Sweep clean the house of friends, and do not knock at the door of enemies? When hard times trap you, don't surrender to helplessness; strip the enemy's skin bare, but from friends take the whole warm coat.

A king once met a devout ascetic. He asked, 'Do you ever think of me?' The man replied, 'Yes, whenever I forget God.' Whoever God drives from His presence runs in every direction searching; but whoever God calls to Himself need never run to anyone else's door.

One of the righteous saw in a dream a king in paradise and a devout ascetic in hell. He asked what raised the one to such heights and cast the other into the depths, since people had believed the exact opposite. A voice replied: this king is in paradise because he honored the poor, and this ascetic is in hell because he sought the company of kings. What good is your ragged cloak, your prayer rug, your patched robe? Keep yourself clear of shameful deeds instead. You have no need to wear a coarse woolen cap: be a dervish at heart, and you may wear a Tartar cap if you like.

A traveler, barefoot and bareheaded, came out of Kufa with the Hejaz caravan and joined us; he had no visible means at all. He walked along with a light, joyful step, and kept saying: 'I don't ride a mule, and I'm not a camel loaded down with burdens; I'm neither a master over peasants nor a slave to any king. I don't fret over what I have, nor grieve for what I lack; I breathe easy and let my life pass by in peace.' A man riding a camel said to him, 'Wanderer, where are you headed? Turn back, or you'll die in misery.' But he wouldn't listen; he stepped into the desert and went on. When we reached the palm grove of Mahmud, death overtook the rich man. The wandering dervish came to his bedside and said, 'We didn't die of hardship, yet you, on your fine camel, are the one who died.' A man wept all night at the sick one's bedside; when morning came, he himself died, and the sick one lived on. How many a swift horse falls behind, while a lame donkey carries its rider safely home. So often we have buried the perfectly healthy in the ground, while the badly wounded did not die.

A king summoned a devout worshiper. The man thought: I will take a drug to make myself look frail, so the king's faith in me will grow stronger. They say he drank a poison and died. The one I once saw as pure kernel, like a pistachio, turned out to be nothing but layer upon layer of skin, like an onion. The pious who turn their faces toward people are praying with their backs to God. When someone calls himself God's servant, he should know nothing but God.

On Greek soil they raided a caravan and carried off wealth beyond measure. The merchants wept and begged, calling on God and the Prophet for help, but it did no good. Once the dark-hearted thief has won his prize, why would the caravan's weeping trouble him? Luqman the wise happened to be in that caravan. One of the travelers said to him: perhaps you could advise these thieves and preach to them, so they might leave us at least part of our goods, for it would be a shame to see so much wealth wasted. He said: it would be a waste to offer them any word of wisdom. Iron eaten through by rust and rot, no polisher can ever make it clean again. What use is preaching to a blackened heart? An iron nail will never drive into stone. Truly, the fault lies with us. In your days of ease and safety, help the broken, for comforting the poor turns misfortune away. When a beggar pleads with you for something, give it, or a tyrant will take it by force.

As often as my revered teacher, Abu al-Faraj ibn al-Jawzi, God's mercy upon him, told me to give up listening to music and pointed me toward solitude and seclusion, the fever of my youth got the better of me, and desire and craving pulled the other way. So, against my mentor's counsel, I would inevitably take a step, enjoy the music and the company, and whenever the sheikh's advice came back to me I would say: If the judge himself sat down with us, he'd clap his hands to the beat; if the vice officer drank wine, he'd forgive the drunkard. Until one night I came upon a gathering, and among them I saw a musician; His clumsy plucking seemed to tear the very cords of life; his voice was more dreadful than the news of your own father's death. Now and then the guests would jam their fingers in their ears, and now and then hold them to their lips: quiet down! We turn eagerly toward the sweetness of songs when they are pleasant, but you, singer: if you fell silent, we would be pleased. No one finds any joy in your singing except the moment you stop and hold your breath. When that lute player broke into song, I said to the host: for God's sake, either pour mercury into my ears so I cannot hear, or open the door so I can get out. In short, to keep my friends' feelings, I went along with it, and with much struggle I got through the night till dawn. The muezzin raised his call at the wrong hour; he has no idea how much of the night is left. Ask my eyelashes how long the night was, for sleep never once touched my eyes. In the morning, as a token of gratitude, I loosed the turban from my head and a gold coin from my belt, laid them before the singer, embraced him, and thanked him warmly. My friends found my devotion to him out of character, and put it down to a lapse in my judgment. One of them stretched out his tongue to object and began to scold me: this was not fitting for a sensible man, to give a Sufi elder's robe to a musician like this, who in all his life has never had a single coin in his hand or a scrap of it on his tambourine. A musician, far be it from this blessed house, whom no one has ever seen twice in the same place. The moment his voice left his mouth, the hair stood up on people's bodies. The bird on the porch flew off in terror of him; it stole away our wits and tore its own throat. I said: it would be wise to shorten the tongue of your objection, for this man's true miracle became plain to me. He said: won't you tell me what this miracle was, so that I too may seek his favor and apologize for the joke I made? I said: yes! Because my revered teacher told me again and again to give up listening to music, and delivered eloquent sermons, yet none of it reached my accepting ear. But tonight a lucky star and a fortunate turn led me to this spot, so that through this man I have repented: for the rest of my life I will keep away from music and such company! A lovely voice from a sweet mouth and lips, whether it sings or not, still steals the heart. But even if it strikes the modes of Ushaq, Khorasan, or Hijaz, it means nothing from the throat of a repulsive singer.

They asked Luqman: from whom did you learn good manners? He said: from those with none. Whatever I found distasteful in their behavior, I avoided doing myself. No word is spoken, even in jest, from which a thoughtful mind cannot draw a lesson. Yet read a hundred chapters of wisdom to a fool, and it all sounds to him like idle play.

They tell of a worshipper who one night ate ten measures of food and then prayed until dawn, completing a full recitation of the Quran. A wise, discerning man heard of it and said: had he eaten just half a loaf and gone to sleep, he would have been far better off. Keep your insides empty of food, so that you may see in them the light of true knowledge. You are empty of any wisdom for this reason: you are stuffed with food right up to your nose.

God's mercy held a lamp of grace before a man lost in sin, guiding him until he joined the circle of those who seek the truth. Through the blessing of the dervishes' steps and the sincerity of their breath, his ugly traits turned into virtues. He gave up his cravings and desires, yet the tongues of critics still stretched long against him, claiming he was as he used to be, and that his piety and devotion could not be trusted. With apology and repentance you can escape God's punishment, but you can never escape the tongues of people. He could no longer bear the cruelty of these tongues, so he carried his complaint to the elder of the path. The elder answered: How can you ever give proper thanks for this blessing, that you are better than people imagine you to be? How long will you keep saying that the malicious and the envious are picking flaws in poor helpless me? One moment they rise up to spill my blood, the next they sit down plotting my ruin. To be good and have people call you bad is better than to be bad and have them think you good. But as for me, since everyone thinks the best of me while I am full of faults, it is only right that I feel concern and grieve over it. I keep myself hidden from the eyes of my neighbors, yet God knows all my secrets and everything I show. I shut my door in people's faces, so they cannot spread my faults. But what good is a shut door, when the Knower of the Unseen sees all that is hidden and all that is plain?

I complained to one of the elders: so-and-so has testified to my corruption. He said: then shame him with your good conduct! Live well and honestly, so that the one who wishes you harm finds no opening to speak of your faults. When the lute's strings are perfectly in tune, how could it ever get a scolding twist from the player's hand?

One of the sheikhs of Damascus was asked about the true nature of Sufism. He said: In the past there were people scattered in appearance but united in spirit; now there is a crowd united in appearance but scattered in spirit. If your heart drifts elsewhere every hour, you will find no serenity even in solitude. But if you have rank, wealth, crops, and trade, while your heart stays with God, you are still a hermit at heart.