#38 ECHOES FROM THE PLAINS OF ARAFAAT

As Hajj comes to its climax, the day of gathering at the plains of Arafaat, Muslims all over the world focus their inner eyes on the birth place of Islam, on Makka, the place of the Sacred Mosque and Ka’bah. Our minds turn to those who are fortunate enough to actually be there – the Hajj pilgrims. We normally face in the direction of the Ka’bah when we offer ritual prayer; but the approach of the blessed day of Arafaat, on the ninth of the already sacred lunar month of Dhul-Hijjah, refocuses hearts and souls on that place of calm, where all existence seems to mould into a permanent consciousness of prayer and of the Presence of God – Almighty Allah.
For Muslims in Canada, the eternal work-to-eat, eat-to-work routine of day to day “running after the carrot” is shockingly broken. To most who have been for Hajj, the shock comes as a supremely glad leap into the sea of the humanity of the community, the Ummah of the Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings be upon him). We see each other. We cry together. We laugh together. We eat together. We pray together. And we perform the beautiful acts of Hajj together. Rich and poor all look alike in our hajj garb and dress. And when we finish we return home with shaved heads or shortened hair. All of these humanizing experiences are as humbling as they are inspiring. All our weaknesses come to the fore and we see ourselves as we really are.
Many are the Muslims who wish that they could have their last days on earth in that sacred condition of “Ihram”, the ceremonial entrance of the servant into the ascetic, even monkish, state of being a hajj pilgrim. “Ihram” literally means a state of voluntarily making certain things forbidden on oneself, such as perfumes and conjugal relations. Religious awareness of the sanctity of human life is raised to the level of total pacifism in Hajj, for in “ihram” the hujjaaj (those performing Hajj) are strictly forbidden from harming any animal, insect or plant.
Most inspiring for this spirit of goodwill is the farewell sermon of the Blessed Prophet (sallallaahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) when he addressed his followers, in his last Hajj on the day of Arafaat, saying: “No doubt! Your blood, your properties, and your honour are sacred to one another like the sanctity of this day of yours, in this (sacred) city of yours, in this (sacred) month of yours.” After repeating this he asked, “Have I conveyed the message?” and on receiving the united testimonial from the throats of tens of thousands of companions present there he finished, “Let those who are present CONVEY (this) to those who are absent. BEWARE! DON’T turn back as deniers of your faith after me, striking the necks (cutting the throats) of one another!”
That profoundly climactic address must resound in the souls of those gathered for Hajj on the plains of Arafaat – the very plains and the very occasion on which it was made so many years ago. And it is a message that they must carry back home.
For Muslims at home Eidul Adha is celebrated the day after the Day of Arafaat. In commemoration of Abraham’s (peace be upon him) willingness to sacrifice his son we sacrifice an animal. And in our Eid prayers, we hear the echoes from Arafaat. We await the return of the hujjaaj. All prayers turn, hoping, never despairing, to what we all need: Guidance. Justice. Integrity. But perhaps mostly, Peace