Nourishment

A Masjid goer wrote a letter to the editor of a newspaper and complained that it made no sense to go to mosque every Friday.

“I’ve gone for 30 years now,” he wrote, “and in that time I have heard something like 3,000 sermons. But for the life of me, I can’t remember a single one of them. So, I think I’m wasting my time and the Imaams are wasting theirs by giving sermons at all.”

This started a real controversy in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ column, much to the delight of the editor. It went on for weeks until someone wrote this clincher:

“I’ve been married for 37 years now. In that time my wife has cooked some 32,000 meals. But, for the life of me, I cannot recall the entire menu for a single one of those meals, But I do know this… They all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work. If my wife had not given me these meals, I would be physically dead today.

Likewise, if I had not gone to mosque for nourishment, I would be spiritually dead today!’ When you are DOWN to nothing…. Allah is UP to something! Faith sees the invisible, believes the incredible and receives the impossible! Thank Allah for our physical AND our spiritual nourishment!”


@Reposted from Islamicthinking.info

The Silent Bayaan (Sermon)

A member of a certain mosque, who previously had started attending the mosque to perform his Salaah (prayer), suddenly stopped attending. After a few weeks, the imam decided to visit him.

It was a chilly evening. The imam found the man alone at home, sitting before a blazing fire.  Guessing the reason for his imam’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace…and waited.

The imam made himself at home but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs. After some minutes, the imam took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone, then he sat
back in his chair, still silent.

The host watched all this in quiet contemplation. As the one lone ember’s flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more.  Soon it was cold and dead.

Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.  The imam glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave.  He slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the
burning coals around it.

As the imam reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek, ‘Shukran for your visit and especially for the firey sermon. I will be attending mosque again tomorrow starting with the Fajr Salaah, InshaAllah’.
قُلْ هَٰذِهِ سَبِيلِي أَدْعُو إِلَى اللَّهِ ۚ عَلَىٰ بَصِيرَةٍ أَنَا وَمَنِ اتَّبَعَنِي ۖ وَسُبْحَانَ اللَّهِ وَمَا أَنَا مِنَ الْمُشْرِكِينَ
Say, “This is my way; I invite to Allah with insight, I and those who follow me. And exalted is Allah ; and I am not of those who associate others with Him.” (Quran 12:108)
Our best Dawah (invitation to Islam) is our example. Our actions speak louder than words. We live in a world today, which tries to say too much with too little. Consequently, few listen.  Sometimes the best bayaans (sermons) are the ones “given silently”.

@Repost from http://www.islamicthinking.info