F. Its oil is almost luminous,
To understand the oil mentioned here, we must remember that it is derived – pressed, actually – from the fruit of the olive tree, and yet is flammable. The tree does not burn, so its light is not of this world, but its produce does burn, and hence must be something present in this transitory realm. Here we have the paradoxical nature of GOD’s Eternal Light, appearing as it does in transient forms.
As I have indicated earlier, the olive tree is a metaphor for truth. But since the truth of revelation has already been symbolically reserved, as it were, by the star, what other truth can there be? It must be something that can be hidden in the lamp and yet essential to its light. And it must be something that almost shines by itself, i.e. glistens with the potential for knowing GOD’s Truth. Without further ado, I take this to be the mystical experience that can be tasted prior to or untouched by revelation.
This was the oil that had been poured into the soul of the Prophet Muhammad (may GOD bless him and give him peace) before his elevation to prophethood – the same oil that moved him to look for seclusion in the wilderness outside of Makkah and commune with his own spiritual urges in a quest for gnosis. It is this same luminous essence that pervades the writings and teachings of sages and mystics throughout history. We read their writings or study their speeches and are amazed by how close they came to knowing the GOD of revelation without that final spark of His Guidance. There is no denying the verity contained in certain works of wisdom, preserved for humanity by those who never had a more definite light by which to live than the inner beauty of their utterances. As the Prophet (may GOD bless him and give him peace) said, “Verily in poetry there is wisdom.” All that was needed was one final touch of “fire”.
G. though fire does not touch it. Light on Light!
Revelation, like a star or sun, is fiery. It comes with a painful intensity than can scarcely be borne by mortals.
From ‘A’ishah, [who said] that Al-Harithab-na Hisham asked the Messenger of AL-LAH (may GOD bless him and give him peace) how revelation came to him. The Messenger of AL-LAH (may GOD bless him and give him peace) replied, “Sometimes it comes to me like the tolling of a bell, and that is the hardest on me. Then it departs from me, and I have understood what was said. And sometimes the angel appears to me as a man who speaks to me, and I understand what he says.” ‘A’ishah said, “I have seen it come down upon him on a day of severe cold. When it left him, his forehead was soaked with sweat.” (Sunanun-Nasa’i, Book 11, Hadith 59)
عَنْ عَائِشَةَ، أَنَّ الْحَارِثَ بْنَ هِشَامٍ، سَأَلَ رَسُولَ اللَّهِ صلى الله عليه وسلم كَيْفَ يَأْتِيكَ الْوَحْىُ فَقَالَ رَسُولُ اللَّهِ صلى الله عليه وسلم ” أَحْيَانًا يَأْتِينِي فِي مِثْلِ صَلْصَلَةِ الْجَرَسِ وَهُوَ أَشَدُّهُ عَلَىَّ فَيَفْصِمُ عَنِّي وَقَدْ وَعَيْتُ مَا قَالَ وَأَحْيَانًا يَتَمَثَّلُ لِيَ الْمَلَكُ رَجُلاً فَيُكَلِّمُنِي فَأَعِي مَا يَقُولُ ” . قَالَتْ عَائِشَةُ وَلَقَدْ رَأَيْتُهُ يَنْزِلُ عَلَيْهِ فِي الْيَوْمِ الشَّدِيدِ الْبَرْدِ فَيَفْصِمُ عَنْهُ وَإِنَّ جَبِينَهُ لَيَتَفَصَّدُ عَرَقًا
It is the oil in us, our propensity for wisdom, compassion, and justice, that seeps up into the wick of our character and softens the conflagration of revelation into a steady, gentle flame that neither destroys the lamp nor blinds the eyes of onlookers. Without that inner oil of spiritual profundity and experience, revelation would be like holding a match to gunpowder – a sudden explosion, and destruction everywhere. (We are seeing a lot of these fireworks in the Islamic world nowadays, and the crude oil fuelling much of it is not of the calm, cultured, long-lasting variety.)
Revelation, however, is more than just words. It produces a feeling of urgency, anxiety, and heightened awareness. Together with the inner light, there is psychic heat – the heat that, leaking into this material world, could make one sweat on a cold day. When properly modulated and attended to, we call it conscience – the knowledge of right and wrong, and the witness in our souls to GOD’s primal inquiry of burning importance, Am I not your Lord? (Q7:172)
But what about those who have little or no conscience – those whose wicks are dry, their hearts unwarmed by remorse, and their spirits unlit by the Light of GOD? Think of someone whose lack of conscience allowed him to commit the world’s worst crimes with a smile or a shrug. Compare him with the uneasiness of one whose fear of the fire of conscience (i.e., taqwa) beset her heart constantly until the day she died. Should they be treated equally? Can we let the cries and tears of the victims of the first person go unheeded? Or let the sacrifices and scruples of the second go unrewarded? Can the careless, arrogant, and corrupt escape the mess they made of this world and retire happily, with the false honours of this world around their shoulders, into quiet, permanent extinction or oblivion, without the touch of fire?
