Ustadh Ubaydullah Evans“The Third Resurrection” refers to Blackamerican engagement with the scholarly tradition of Islam. It is not simply about learning the tradition. To be sure, classical training is an essential point of departure. However, the Third Res, cannot be realized until we deploy tradition in ways that are both authentic and relevant. This requires a subtle balance. On the one hand, tradition places a premium on precedent and on the other, many of the realities confronting Blackamerican Muslims are unprecedented. In most cases, authenticity and relevance can be bridged through renewing classical
principles and calibrating them to our circumstances. Even among those that embrace dynamic approaches, wholesale rejection of the tradition is rare. And yet, tradition contains things which produce great discomfort among Blackamericans. In particular, re-negotiating or omitting teachings which connect rank and prestige with lineage might be an instance in which Blackamerican Muslims would call upon some Third Resurrection interpretive license. Ideas that many Muslims regard as completely uncontroversial, such as love of the Ahl al-Bayt (The family of the Prophet [upon him be peace]), afḍalīyyat al-`Arab (the ascendancy of Arabian lineage), etc. have quietly vexed some Blackamerican Muslims for generations. In fact, for many, the suggestion of a racial/ethnic hierarchy within Islam is not only deeply offensive; it undermines the very basis of their conversion. For Black people, achieving dignity and respect within America’s dominant culture has been elusive—if not intentionally denied. As such, the notion that there is some biological/historical set of factors that makes another people their categorical superiors is an anathema. The universalist message of the Prophet’s (upon him be peace) Last Sermon or the thirteenth verse of Sūrat al-Ḥujurāt is more consistent with the moral clarity they seek from Islam. Interestingly enough, different iterations of principles such as the obligation of loving the family of the Prophet (upon him be peace) and afḍalīyyat al-`Arab have been embraced by non-Arab Muslim communities across time/space. Those communities—many of the most productive and prolific of whom have been African—never understood those principles to violate the fundamental equality of human beings and moral meritocracy. Quite the reverse, they understood these precepts to be an extension of loving the Messenger of God (upon him be peace). Is this then, for us, an issue of misplaced sensitivity? Or perhaps this is an example of “fitnah” being “worse than slaughter.” Feelings of insecurity and displacement are not inherent responses to special honor which has been conferred upon someone other than oneself. The secure response is to call to mind the honor that has been uniquely conferred upon oneself to the exclusion of others. There is surely historical and contemporaneous trauma within the Black experience which heightens our awareness of the potential danger of ethnocentrism. Additionally, our community has experienced a corresponding anti-Blackness which makes it difficult for Blackamerican Muslims to see our own unique God- given gifts and distinctions. Earlier this year, I was honored with a request to write a foreword for the recent publication of The Spirits of Black Folk: Sages through the Ages. This is an abridged translation of Raf’ Sha’n al-Ḥubshān, an original work of the famed Imam Jalāluddin aṣ-Ṣuyūṭī. This text is a carefully curated collection of biographical entries of prominent Black spiritual luminaries and an exposé on some of the metaphysical dimensions of blackness. In bringing it to light, Shaykhs Adeyinka Mendes and Talut Dawud (may God reward them) have done our entire Muslim community a tremendous service. For Blackamericans specifically, it serves as a reminder that people of African descent have no reason to feel insecure concerning where God has placed His good favor. We’re engaging the sources of our tradition. We seek to be edified by it as our Salaf were but we afford to ourselves some license in the manner in which we deploy it. Everything which contributes to the love of the Messenger of God (upon him be peace) is for our benefit. And similarly, anything which induces feelings of inadequacy and inferiority is not suited for us. Imam al-Bukhārī reports that “Umar (may God be pleased with him) came to the Blackstone, kissed it and said, ‘I know that you are a stone, you do not cause benefit or harm; and if it were not that I had seen the Messenger of God (upon him be peace) kiss you, I would have never kissed you.’” I have always found this narration fascinating. Umar followed the precedent set by the Messenger of God (upon him be peace) by kissing the Blackstone. This isn’t surprising. Umar is noted for his impassioned adherence to the Prophetic way. His preamble before hand; the qualification of his action, however, seems uncharacteristic of him. Kissing the Blackstone produced an uncomfortable memory of idolatry. Umar adheres to Prophetic practice but not without first making a personal declaration: “I don’t worship idols! I don’t believe stones can harm or hurt me. I am only adhering to the Prophetic way!” The parallel here is striking. As Blackamerican Muslims, we too aspire to express love and esteem for Ahl al- Bayt and those associated with the Messenger of God (upon him be peace) through language or tribe. However, not without a declaration: “We don’t subscribe to theories about any “master races.” And we don’t exclusively locate piety, value, or worthiness outside of our own people. We are only expressing love for the Prophet Muhammad (upon him be peace).” Ubaydullah Evans March 2021 Comments are closed.
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