The Humble I

Let’s start with two hadiths to set the tone. The first is the Prophet’s words ^ﷺ: ‘No one who has even an atom’s weight of arrogance in his heart shall enter Paradise.’1 The other is the Prophet’s ^ﷺ words — when he saw some people performing wudu’, but not washing their heels properly: ‘Woe to the heels from the Fire.’2

The above two hadiths complement each other by highlighting an important principle: Islam is concerned with the inward state of the heart as well as the outward correctness of one’s actions. Nothing is too great or small, weighty or trivial. However, some acts of the heart and duties of the limbs are required (fard/wajib), while others are recommended (sunnah/mustahabb). But no act taught by Revelation, be it inner or outer, is inconsequential or petty. There’s just priorities and degrees of importance.

Now, while some Muslims without justification reduce religion to being ‘all in the heart,’ thus downplaying the importance of outward actions (even obligatory acts of worship such as prayer and fasting), this does not represent those who are genuinely committed to religious practice. Since the former view falls outside the scope of the discussion I wish to have, I shall set it aside and instead focus on practicing Muslims whom Allah has saved from the misguided belief that Islam is confined to the heart alone.

Here, the problem is not necessarily a failure to perform outward acts. Instead, the issue often lies in becoming overly concerned with outward practise, whilst paying little or no attention to the spiritual acts of the heart, the cultivation of good character, and the pursuit of inner beauty. When Islam becomes reduced to external form instead of inward transformation, this becomes a cause for the disfigurement of religiosity. For when the heart’s purity and beauty of character are neglected, acts of worship become shallow, giving rise to those who are harsh, hostile, self-righteous and thrive on schism or controversy, rather than humility, service and compassion.

The Prophet ^ﷺ offered us a clear illustration of this when he warned against the dangers of the Khawarij, stating about their precursor: ‘From the loins of this [man] shall arise a people who will recite the Qur’an but it will not pass beyond their throats. They will slay the people of Islam but spare the people of idolatry. They will pass through Islam just as an arrow passes through its prey.’3 Another hadith says: ‘Leave him; for he has comrades whose prayer and fasting will make your prayer and fasting look insignificant. They shall recite the Qur’an but it shall not go beyond their throats.’4

His ^ﷺ saying: ‘They will recite the Qur’an, but it will not pass beyond their throats’means that the Qur’an will fail to penetrate their hearts or character. Their recitation remains confined to the tongue or the throat, producing neither true understanding nor inner illumination. Despite their intense apparent piety and their devotion to outward acts of worship, they will direct their violence against the Muslims. For their outward religiosity is bereft of inward traits of sincerity, mercy, wisdom and sound judgement which the Qur’an is meant to nurture.

The Prophet ^ﷺ thus identifies the hallmark of the Khawarij, not as lack of outward religiosity, but as an obsession with outer practice devoid of inner spiritual transformation. Tongues are reading the Qur’an, yet hearts remain untouched by its guidance.

Part of the brilliance of Islam is its clarity that Allah isn’t worshipped via mere outward form; rather, He has prescribed certain outward forms as a context where ‘ibadah — worship or loving submission to Allah — takes place. If the heart is absent, and just the external form is present, then it isn’t worship: we’re only going through the motions.

About the prayer (salat), the Qur’an states: And established prayer for My remembrance. [Q.20:14] It is a reminder that prayer has a wise purpose; namely, restoring the remembrance of Allah to the heart, and to sharpen the awareness of His Presence in our lives. Salat isn’t some arbitrary act of mere bowing or prostrating — until, that is, the heart forgets to bow or prostrate to Allah along with the physical body.

The same applies to fasting (siyam). One hadith says: ‘Perhaps a fasting person receives nothing for his fast, save hunger.’5 That is, without an inward (batin) fast, without the heart’s piety or abstinence from sins or distraction from Allah, the outward (zahir) fast can become little more than a hollow token void of reward, re-centring or being raised in rank with Allah.

Or take the sacrificial rite during the hajj on the day of ‘Id. So in one verse, we read: Neither their flesh nor their blood reaches Allah. But it is your [heart’s] piety that reaches Him. [Q.22:37] Now, if neither flesh nor blood reaches Allah, why then does the shariah lay down detailed rules about which animals can be sacrificed? Because such outward orders are themselves meant to be an expression of loving submission. Allah doesn’t need the sacrifice; rather, He commands it in a specific manner so that we can demonstrate our heart’s adoration for Him. The value of the act, therefore, is not in the animal itself, but in the heart’s piety, godliness and obedience that the sacrifice embodies.

In summary: The outward aspects of Islam are indispensable, but they must never overshadow the inward realities they are meant to nurture. When the zahir becomes an over-obsession, at the cost of the batin, then worship is reduced to an empty husk. Rather, authentic religiosity lies in uniting the zahir with the batin in order that our outward acts are internalised and animated by inward purification of the heart and an ever-shrinking ego.

_____________________

1. Muslim, no.91.

2. Al-Bukhari, no.60; Muslim, no.241.

3. Muslim, no.1064.

4. Al-Bukhari, no.3610.

5. Ibn Majah, no.1690. It was graded as sahih in al-Albani, Sahih al-Jamiʿ al-Saghir (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islami, 1988), no.3488.