Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Christianity and Islam: Getting to know our Muslim neighbours in Ireland today

The Islamic Cultural Centre of Ireland and the mosque in Clonskeagh, Dublin

Patrick Comerford

The context

An understanding of the beliefs, traditions and culture of people of other faiths is important in Ireland today and can deepen and enrich our own faith and spirituality too. But, if we are going to understand people of other faiths and beliefs, we must try to understand them on their own terms, and allow them to define themselves, and to be honest and open about our own beliefs too, so that we meet them as they truly are and they meet us as we truly are.

One of the noticeable changes in the Irish population in recent decades is the sizeable presence of Muslims. There are, perhaps, up to 40,000 Muslims in Ireland today. In this changing Ireland, Muslims are increasingly visible and playing a role, and a changing world which, since 9/11, needs to know how to deal with our fears about terrorism, our vulnerability, our prejudices (in the sense of pre-judging) about Muslims and Islam, and a legacy that has left many unresolved questions.

Muslim children are now attending our Church of Ireland schools. In the coming decades, the possibility of intermarriage is going to increase. There are many dilemmas too surrounding interfaith public occasions.

Can we can learn from others, including Muslims, in ways that will deepen our own faith and our practice of it?

Muslims in Ireland today

Despite popular perceptions, the majority of Muslims in Ireland probably are not foreigners. Consider the number of Irish women who have become Muslims through marriage, and the number of Muslim children born in Ireland.

Historically, the first Irish contacts with the Islamic world predate the Anglo-Norman invasion, and the first constant contacts are found from the 17th century on. In the 18th and 19th centuries, baptisms in Church of Ireland parish records in the Diocese of Raphoe and Roman Catholic parish records in the Diocese of Ferns point to a Muslim presence from Co Donegal to Co Wexford at that time.

Indeed, in the late 18th century, one Muslim was an active member of the Volunteers – giving an added dimension to ideal of uniting an Ireland of Protestants, Catholics and Dissenters.

In the 19th century, there was still an air of exotic excitement surrounding Muslims in Ireland. But their presence has grown here especially since the mid-1950s, with the arrival of a new wave of Muslims as medical students.

The history of the arrival and the make-up of Muslims in every European country is different: in France, Muslims are mainly of North African descent; in Germany, they are mainly Turkish in origin, while in Britain, their origins, by-and-large, are in the Indian subcontinent.

But these images hinder our acceptance of Muslims as being truly European. There are many Muslims who are truly European in every sense, including the Muslims of Bosnia, Kosovo and Albania. We forget often that Spain was a Muslim-ruled country for longer than it has been a Christian-ruled country, while Istanbul or Constantinople was seen as the greatest city in Christendom for much longer than it has been seen as a Muslim city.

In Ireland, Muslims come from a very mixed and diverse background. A large number are Irish-born, and they see themselves as Irish.

Patrick Comerford (right) with Dr Ali Selim (left) and Archbishop John Neill of Dublin during a visit to the Islamic Cultural Centre of Ireland

So let me ask some questions:

How many of you know a Muslim?

How many of you have visited a Muslim country?

How many of you have visited a mosque?

Yet, how many of us encounter fear and suspicion in our parishes and in our neighbourhoods, in our schools and at work?.

Some of this fear and suspicion in founded in reality. Yes, there is a threat from al-Qaida. But it is a greater threat to security in the Muslim world, as has been shown by recent violence, killings and bombings in Pakistan, Iraq, Afghanistan or Turkey.

Statistically more Muslims are killed by Muslims in Iraq and Pakistan each week than Christians are killed by Muslims in Britain or the US, or Jews killed in France each week – horrific and condemnable as those killings are too.

Muslims can often fear each other more than we fear them. Many mainstream Muslims fear the rigorous approach to Islam among the Wahhabis, who are supported and nurtured in Saudi Arabia, and Sunni and Shia Muslims fear each other in Iraq and Pakistan.

Last week’s shootings in Toulouse, the continuing crises in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the ‘Arab Spring’ throughout North Africa and the Middle East, as well as recent attacks in London, Madrid, Turkish holiday resorts – all of these have left people realising not only how vulnerable we are today as the people of New York and Washington were over ten years ago on 11 September 2001, but also aware that are lives are intertwined with the lives of the Islamic world, and we cannot escape that.

Americans fear a backlash following the murder of children by a US soldier in Afghanistan earlier this month, against Muslims in the US following Thursday’s killings in Fort Hood in Texas. But Muslims in France are living in fear after the recent killings in Toulouse, and after the fears that have been stoked up in the presidential election campaign by President Sarkozy.

Yet much of the fear – as with all fear – is irrational, and is not based on knowledge, experience or reality.

Today, 1-in-5 people in the world is a Muslim. The majority of Muslims are not Arabs, and only 20 per cent of Muslims live in Arab countries. There are large communities of Muslims in the Balkans and Russia. The world’s largest Muslim country is Indonesia, and there are more Muslims in India than there are in Pakistan. The countries with the largest Muslim populations are Indonesia, India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh, with more than 100 million Muslims each. There are 20 million Muslims in China.

The two Middle East countries with the largest Muslim populations are two non-Arab countries, Turkey and Iran. On the other hand, a large minority of Arabs are Christians, and there are even Arab Jews.

Yet, much of the fear of Muslims in the world today is based not on their religious beliefs, but finds expressions that are similar to racism. We objectify them, make them “others” who are not part of “us,” and outsiders who bring nothing as gifts to us, but instead bring threats.

We need to see other-ness as a gift rather than a threat. And criticism and reaction, when we offer it, need not always be negative, but certainly need to be based on knowledge and experience.

What is Islam?

Islam (Arabic: الإسلام; al-'islām) is a monotheistic Abrahamic religion originating with the teachings of Muhammad (ca 570-632), a 7th century Arab religious and political leader. The word Islam means “submission” or the total surrender of oneself to God (Arabic: الله, Allāh). And so an adherent of Islam is a Muslim, or “one who submits (to God).” With 1.1 billion to 1.8 billion Muslims in the world, Islam is the second-largest religion in the world, after Christianity.

Muslims believe that God revealed the Qur'an to Muhammad. They see him as God’s final prophet, and the regard the Qur'an and the Sunnah (words and deeds of Muhammad) as the fundamental sources of Islam. They do not regard Muhammad as the founder of a new religion, but believe he restored the original monotheistic faith of Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and other prophets.

Muslims are generally expected to observe the Five Pillars of Islam or the five duties that unite Muslims. In addition, Islamic law (sharia) has developed a tradition of rulings that relate to virtually all aspects of life and society, from dietary laws and banking to warfare.

The word Islam means acceptance of and submission or surrender to God. Muslims demonstrate this submission by worshipping God, following his commands, and avoiding polytheism. Islam is often described as an action of returning to God – more than just a verbal affirmation of faith.

The minaret of a mosque in a small Turkish village (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2009)

What do Muslims believe?

According to the Qur'an all Muslims must believe in God, his revelations, his angels, his messengers, and in the Day of Judgment. There are other beliefs that are particular to different schools of Islam. For example, the Sunni concept of predestination is called divine decree, while the Shi'a version is called divine justice. Shi'a Muslims hold a unique understanding of Imamah or the political and spiritual leadership of the Imams.

Muslims believe that God revealed his final message to humanity through the angel Gabriel to Muhammad over a period of two decades or more in the years 610 to 632. The Qur'an mentions numerous figures considered as prophets in Islam, including Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus. The Qur'an names Jews and Christians as “People of the Book” (ahl al-kitāb), and distinguishes them from polytheists, although Muslims believe that parts of the previously revealed scriptures, the Tawrat (Torah) and the Injil (Gospels), had become distorted – either in misinterpretation of the text, or in altering text, or both.

The fundamental theological concept of Islam is tawhīd – the belief that there is only one God. The Arabic term for God is Allāh; most scholars believe it was derived from a contraction of the words al- (the) and 'ilāh (deity, masculine form), meaning “the God” (al-ilāh), but others trace its origin to the Aramaic Alāhā. Tawhīd, the first of the Five Pillars of Islam, is expressed in the shahadah (testifying), which in which every believing Muslim declares that there is no god but God, and that Muhammad is God’s messenger or prophet.

For Muslims, God is beyond all comprehension. They are not expected to visualise God, but to worship and adore him as the protector. Muslims will say that God is as close to us, to you, as the vein in your neck.

Muslims consider the Qur'an to be the literal word of God. The Qur'an is divided into 114 suras, or chapters. The chronologically earlier suras, dating to Mecca, are primarily concerned with ethical and spiritual topics. The later suras from Medina are concerned mostly with social and moral issues in the Muslim community. The Qur'an is more concerned with moral guidance than legal instruction, and is considered the “sourcebook of Islamic principles and values.”

In Islam, the “normative” example of Muhammad’s life is called the Sunnah (“trodden path”). This example is preserved in traditions known as hadith (“reports”), which recount his words, his actions, and his personal characteristics. The Sunnah is seen as crucial to guiding interpretation of the Qur'an and Muslim jurists see the hadith, or the written record of Muhammad’s life, as supplementing the Qur'an and assisting in its interpretation. Muslims are encouraged to emulate Muhammad’s actions in their daily lives.

Muslims regard their belief in angels as crucial to their faith. Their duties include communicating revelations from God, glorifying God, recording every person’s actions, and taking a person’s soul at the time of death.

Muslims believe in the “Day of Resurrection,” yawm al-Qiyāmah (also known as yawm ad-dīn, “Day of Judgment” and as-sā`a, “the Last Hour”) that its time is preordained by God although unknown to humanity. The Qur'an emphasises bodily resurrection, and says the resurrection of dead will be followed by the gathering of humanity, culminating in judgment by God.

The Qur'an lists several sins that can condemn a person to hell, including disbelief, usury and dishonesty. Paradise (jannah) is seen as a place of joy and bliss, with mystical traditions in Islam placing the heavenly delights in the context of an ecstatic awareness of God.

Muslims believe in predestination, or divine preordaining (al-qadā wa'l-qadar), so that God has full knowledge and control over all that happens. For Muslims, everything in the world that happens, good or evil, has been preordained and nothing can happen unless permitted by God. However, while events are pre-ordained, we have freewill in that we have the faculty to choose between right and wrong, and so are responsible for our actions.

The Five Pillars of Islam

The richly decorated interior of a mosque in Turkey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Five Pillars of Islam (Arabic: اركان الدين) are five practices essential to Sunni Islam. Shi'a Muslims talk about eight ritual practices which substantially overlap with the Five Pillars. These are:

1, The shahadah, which is the basic creed or tenet of Islam: 'ašhadu 'al-lā ilāha illā-llāhu wa 'ašhadu 'anna Muħammadan rasūlu-llāh, or “I testify that there is none worthy of worship except God and I testify that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.” This declaration of faith is the foundation for all other beliefs and practices in Islam. (Shi'a Muslims consider the shahadah to be belief and do not regard it as a separate pillar, just a belief.) Muslims repeat the shahadah in prayer, and non-Muslims wishing to convert to Islam are required to recite this creed.

2, Salah, or ritual prayer, must be performed five times a day. However, Shi'a Muslims often run together the noon prayers with the afternoon prayers, and the evening prayers with the night prayers. Each salah is done facing towards Mecca. Salah is intended to focus the mind on God, and is seen as a personal communication with him that expresses gratitude and worship. In many Muslim countries, reminders called adhan (call to prayer) are broadcast publicly from local mosques at the appropriate times. The prayers are recited in Arabic, and consist of verses from the Qur'an.

3, Zakat, or almsgiving, is based on accumulated wealth, and is obligatory for all Muslims who can afford it. A fixed portion is spent to help the poor or needy, and also to assist the spread of Islam. The zakat is considered a religious obligation (as opposed to voluntary charity) that the well-off owe to the needy because their wealth is seen as a “trust from God’s bounty.” The Qur'an and the hadith also suggest a Muslim give even more as an act of voluntary almsgiving (sadaqah). Many Shi'a Muslims are expected to pay an additional amount in the form of a khums tax, which they regard as a separate ritual practice.

4, Sawm, or fasting during the month of Ramadan, requires Muslims not to eat or drink from dawn to dusk during Ramadan, when they should contemplate their sins. The fast is to encourage a feeling of nearness to God. During Ramadan, Muslims should express their gratitude to God and their dependence on him, atone for their past sins, and think of the needy.

5, The Hajj is the pilgrimage during the month of Dhu al-Hijjah to Mecca. All able-bodied Muslim who can afford it must undertake the hajj at least once in their lifetime. Islamic teachers say that the hajj should be an expression of devotion to God instead of a means to gain social standing, although the pilgrim or hajji is honoured in his or her community on returning home.

In addition to the khums tax, Shi'a Muslims consider three additional practices essential to the religion of Islam. These are:

1, Jihad, which Sunni Muslims do not consider a pillar of Islam.

2, Amr-Bil-Ma'rūf, the “enjoining to do good,” which calls on every Muslim to live a virtuous life and to encourage others to do the same.

3, Nahi-Anil-Munkar, the “exhortation to desist from evil,” enjoins Muslims to refrain from vice and from evil actions and to encourage others to do the same.

Some questions

The concise expressions of faith in these five pillars offer an interesting challenge to Christians.

1, Can we express our faith in coherent yet concise phrases? Are we confident about making public declarations of faith?

2, Is our daily routine punctuated by rhythm of prayer? Are we embarrassed by postures of prayer that express public submission to God?

3, As a Church and as Christians, is our giving to charity, mission, or development work limited to mere duty, or do we go beyond that? Is it an essential part of Christian life and discipleship?

4, Have we lost the spiritual values of fasting and preparation associated with Lent and Advent?

5, Do we see our lives as pilgrimages, that “this land is not my home, I am only travelling through?” How do you respond to ideas such as pilgrimage and retreat?

Islamic Law or Sharia

The minarets of al-Azhar Mosque in Cairo (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Islamic law covers all aspects of life, from matters of state, like governance and foreign relations, to issues of daily living. There are the punishments for five specific crimes: unlawful intercourse, false accusation of unlawful intercourse, consumption of alcohol, theft, and highway robbery. There are laws of inheritance, marriage, and restitution for injuries and murder, and rules for fasting, charity, and prayer.

Islamic law has four fundamental roots, which are given precedence in this order: the Qur'an, the Sunnah (actions and sayings of Muhammad), the consensus of the Muslim jurists (ijma), and analogical reasoning (qiyas).

Islamic law does not distinguish between matters of “church” and “state.” The ulema function as both jurists and theologians. But as the Muslim world came into contact with Western secular ideals, Muslim societies responded in different ways. Turkey has been a secular state since the reforms of Atatürk, while the Iranian Revolution in 1979 replaced a mainly secular regime with an Islamic state under Ayatollah Khomeini.

Many practices fall into the category of adab or Islamic etiquette, including greeting each other with as-salamu `alaykum (“peace be unto you”), saying bismillah (“in the name of God”) before meals, and using only the right hand for eating and drinking. Islamic hygienic practices mainly fall into the category of personal cleanliness and health, such as the circumcision of male offspring.

Muslims, like Jews, are restricted in their diet, and prohibited foods include pig products, blood, carrion, and alcohol. All meat must come from herbivorous animals slaughtered in the name of God by a Muslim, Jew, or Christian. Muslims may also eat game they have hunted or fished for themselves. Food that Muslims may eat is known as halal food.

Islamic scholars disagree whether the texts justify traditional Islamic practices such as veiling and seclusion (purdah).

What is Jihad?

Jihad means “to strive or struggle” in the way of God and a small number of Muslim scholars regard it as the “sixth pillar of Islam.” Jihad, in its broadest sense, is “exerting one’s utmost power, efforts, endeavours, or ability in contending with an object of disapprobation.” This may be a visible enemy, the devil, or some aspects of one’s own self. But jihad also describes striving to attain religious and moral perfection.

Jihad usually means military exertion against non-Muslim combatants in the defence or expansion of the Islamic state, the ultimate purpose of which is to universalise Islam. Jihad, the only form of warfare permissible in Islamic law, may be declared against apostates, rebels, highway robbers, violent groups, non-Islamic leaders or states that refuse to submit to the authority of Islam. Most Muslims understand jihad as only a defensive form of warfare.

For most Muslims, jihad is a collective duty: its performance by some individuals exempts the others. For most Shia Muslims, offensive jihad can only be declared by a divinely appointed leader of the Islamic community.

One of the leaders of “neo-Sufism” in modern Turkey, Said Nursi, argued that “the time of the ‘jihad of the sword’” is over, and that now is the era of the “jihad of the word,” meaning a reasoned attempt to propose Islam as a basis for a reconciliation of science and modern institutions with religious faith and morality. As early as 1911, Nursi argued that Muslims and “pious Christians” should make common cause in defending a moral and spiritual vision of human life against the momentary illusions of consumer culture.

The divisions of Islam

Islam consists of a number of religious denominations that are essentially similar in belief but with significant theological and legal differences. The primary division is between the Sunni and the Shi'a, with Sufism generally considered a mystical inflection of Islam rather than a distinct school. About 85 per cent of Muslims are Sunni and about 15 per cent are Shi'a.

Sunnis recognise four major legal traditions, or madhhabs: Hanafi, Maliki, Shafi'i and Hanbali. All four accept the validity of the others and a Muslim might choose any one that he/she finds agreeable. There are also several orthodox theological or philosophical traditions within Sunnism. For example, the recent Salafi movement sees itself as restorationist and claims to derive its teachings from the original sources of Islam.

Within 18th century Sunni Islam, the Wahhabi movement took hold in what is now Saudi Arabia today. Wahhabism was founded by Ibn Abd al-Wahhab, and is a fundamentalist ideology that condemns practices like Sufism and the veneration of saints as un-Islamic.

The 20th century saw the formation of many new Islamic “revivalist” movements, including the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and Jamaat-e-Islami in Pakistan. They see Western cultural values as a threat to Islam, and promote Islam as a comprehensive solution to every public and private question of importance. They inspired later movements such as the Taliban in Afghanistan and Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaida.

Shi'a Muslims believe in the political and religious leadership of infallible Imams from the descendants of Ali ibn Abi Talib. They say that Ali, as the cousin and son-in-law of Muhammad, was his rightful successor. The Shi'a follow a legal tradition called Ja'fari jurisprudence.

Shi'a Islam has several branches, the largest of which is the Twelvers (itnā'ašariyya), while the others are the Ismaili, the Seveners, and the Zaidiyyah.

Muslim mystics and Sufism

Many Westerners have been introduced to Islamic spirituality through contact with or reading about Sufism. Sufism has been described as “the pursuit of spiritual experience by bodily discipline and mystical intuition” (HAR Gibb). Professor Victor Danner, in The Islamic Tradition (1988), says: “Sufism has influenced the spiritual life of the [Islamic] religion to an extraordinary degree; there is no important domain in the civilisation of Islam that has remained unaffected by it.”

While the Muslim-Arab elite engaged in conquest, some devout Muslims began to question the piety of indulgence in a worldly life, emphasising rather poverty, humility and avoidance of sin based on renunciation of bodily desires. Devout Muslim ascetic exemplars such as Hasan al-Basri inspired a movement that evolved into Sufism.

Both Sufism and Shi'ism underwent major changes in the 9th century, so that Sufism became a full-fledged movement that had moved towards mysticism and away from its ascetic roots, while Shi'ism splintered into different groups, due to disagreements over the succession of Imams, many of them developing their own emphasis on mysticism.

Beginning in the 13th century, Sufism underwent a transformation, largely due to the efforts of al-Ghazzali to legitimise and reorganise Sufism. He developed the model of the Sufi order – a community of spiritual teachers and students.

Another important development for Sufism was the editing of the Masnavi, a collection of mystical poetry by the 13th century Persian poet Rumi. The Masnavi had a profound influence on the development of Sufi religious thought, and for many Sufis it is second in importance only to the Qur'an.

Sufism (Arabic: تصوف‎ - taṣawwuf, Turkish: tasavvuf, Persian: صوفیگری, sufigari) is not a denomination within Islam. Instead, it is understood as the mystical-ascetic dimension of Islam. By focusing on the more spiritual aspects of religion, Sufis strive to obtain direct experience of God by making use of “intuitive and emotional faculties” that one must be trained to use. Most Sufi orders or brotherhoods are known as tariqas. They may be associated with Sunni Islam or Shia Islam, although the major ones, such as the Qadiri and Naqshbandi orders, are associated with traditional Sunni Islam.

The word Sufi is said to originate from the Arabic صوف‎ (sūf), the Arabic word for wool, referring to the simple cloaks the early Muslim ascetics wore. Others say the root word of Sufi is the Arabic صفا (safā), meaning purity, referring to the Sufi emphasis on purity of heart and soul.

Others suggest the origin is from Ašhab as-Sufā (“Companions of the Porch”) or Ahl as-Sufā (“People of the Porch”) – a group of devout Muslims who spent much of their time on the veranda of Mohammad’s mosque, devoted to prayer. However, the 10th century Persian historian Abū Rayhān al-Bīrūnī linked the word sūfīya with the Greek word Sophia (wisdom, especially divine wisdom).

A practitioner of Sufism is generally known as a Sufi (Arabic: صُوفِيّ‎), although some senior members of the tradition reserve this term for those who have attained the goals of the Sufi tradition. Another common name is the word Dervish (derived from Persian: درویش , darwīš).

Sufis believe that it is possible to become close to God and to experience this closeness while one is alive. The chief aim of all Sufis is to let go of all notions of duality, including any concept of an individual self, and to realise the Divine unity.

Sufis teachers make extensive use of parable, allegory, and metaphor, and it is held by Sufis that meaning can only be reached through a process of seeking the truth, and knowledge of oneself. Sufism as a whole is primarily concerned with direct personal experience.

Junayd al-Baghdadi was among the first theorists of Sufism. He concerned himself with fanā and baqā, the state of annihilating the self in the presence of the divine, accompanied by clarity concerning worldly phenomena derived from the altitude of that perspective.

A significant part of oriental literature comes from the Sufis, who created books of poetry containing the teachings of the Sufis. Some of the more notable examples of this poetry are Attar’s Conference of the Birds and Rumi’s Mathnawi. Rumi, or Mevlana Celaleddin-i-Rumi (Jalal-e-Din Rūmī, 1207-1273) was a universal mystic and a devout Muslim. His way of Sufism teaches unlimited tolerance, positive reasoning, goodness, charity and awareness through love.

Sufi mystical poetry

Rumi, a universal mystic and a devout Muslim ... his way of Sufism teaches unlimited tolerance, positive reasoning, goodness, charity and awareness through love

Rumi (1207-1273) was a Sufi mystic who founded the Mevlevi order, known as the Whirling Dervishes. His masterpiece, the six-volume Mathnawi, dates from 1248 on, and was first written in Persian, and includes parables, ecstatic love odes, jokes and practical advice on meditation. In recent years, he has received new popularity in the west.

One of his poems that I love best is “The Mouse and the Frog,” from which I quote:

A mouse and a frog met every morning
on the riverbank.
They sit in a nook of the ground and talk.
Each morning, the second they see each other,
they open easily, telling stories and dreams and secrets,
empty of any fear or suspicious holding-back.
To watch and listen to those two
is to understand how, as it’s written,
sometimes when two beings come together,
Christ becomes visible.

Or another poem from Rumi:

A soul not clothed with Love
brings shame on its existence.
Be drunk on Love,
for Love is all that exists.
They ask, ‘What is Love?’
Say, ‘Renouncing your will.’
He who has not renounced will
has no will at all.
The lover is a mighty king,
standing above the two worlds.
A king does not look
at what is beneath him.
Only Love and lovers
have eternal life.
Set your hearts on this alone;
the rest is merely borrowed.

(Divani-I Shamsi-I Tabrizi 455: A1:54, translation John Daldock).

Sufi whirling or spinning, a twirling meditation that originated among the Turkish Sufis, it is still practiced by the Dervishes of the Mevlevi order

Two other examples are provided by Rabi’ah al-’Adawiyyah (ca 717-801), one of the best-known saints in Islam and is a prominent figure in Sufi mysticism. Her poetry and writings have been compared with those of the later great Spanish mystics, including Theresa of Avila and John of the Cross.

“Love of God hath so absorbed me that neither love nor hate nor any other thing remains in my heart.”

A lifelong celibate, her devotion and love for God was so great that she is credited with being one of the first great Sufis to give ecstatic voice to the theme of Divine Love. Her poems about the love of God are among the first love poems in Sufi literature.

I love thee with two loves, love of my happiness,
And perfect love, to love thee as is my due.
My selfish love is that I do naught
But think on thee, excluding all beside;
But that purest love, which is thy due,
Is that the veils which hide thee fall, and I gaze on thee,
No praise to me in either this or that,
Nay, thine the praise for both that love and this.

The 99 names of God

The Sufi practice of meditating on the 99 names of God found in the Quran has become popular throughout the Islamic world. These 99 names, which do not include the name Allah, are usually listed as:

1, Ar-Rahman, the All-Compassionate
2, Ar-Rahim, the All-Merciful
3, Al-Malik, the Absolute Ruler
4, Al-Quddus, the Pure One
5, As-Salam, the Source of Peace
6, Al-Mu'min, the Inspirer of Faith
7, Al-Muhaymin, the Guardian
8, Al-'Aziz, the Victorious
9, Al-Jabbar, the Compeller
10, Al-Mutakabbir, the Greatest
11, Al-Khaliq, the Creator
12, Al-Bari', the Maker of Order
13, Al-Musawwir, the Shaper of Beauty
14, Al-Ghaffar, the Forgiving
15, Al-Qahhar, the Subduer
16, Al-Wahhab, the Giver of All
17, Ar-Razzaq, the Sustainer
18, Al-Fattah, the Opener
19, Al-'Alim, the Knower of All
20, Al-Qabid, the Constrictor
21, Al-Basit, the Reliever
22, Al-Khafid, the Abaser
23, Ar-Rafi', the Exalter
24, Al-Mu'izz, the Bestower of Honours
25, Al-Mudhill, the Humiliator
26, As-Sami, the Hearer of All
27, Al-Basir, the Seer of All
28, Al-Hakam, the Judge
29, Al-'Adl, the Just
30, Al-Latif, the Subtle One
31, Al-Khabir, the All-Aware
32, Al-Halim, the Forebearing
33, Al-'Azim, the Magnificent
34, Al-Ghafur, the Forgiver and Hider of Faults
35, Ash-Shakur, the Rewarder of Thankfulness
36, Al-'Ali, the Highest
37, Al-Kabir, the Greatest
38, Al-Hafiz, the Preserver
39, Al-Muqit, the Nourisher
40, Al-Hasib, the Accounter
41, Al-Jalil, the Mighty
42, Al-Karim, the Generous
43, Ar-Raqib, the Watchful One
44, Al-Mujib, the Responder to Prayer
45, Al-Wasi', the All-Comprehending
46, Al-Hakim, the Perfectly Wise
47, Al-Wadud, the Loving One
48, Al-Majíd, the Majestic One
49, Al-Ba'ith, the Resurrector
50, Ash-Shahid, the Witness
51, Al-Haqq, the Truth
52, Al-Wakil, the Trustee
53, Al-Qawi, the Possessor of All Strength
54, Al-Matin, the Forceful One
55, Al-Wáli, the Governor
56, Al-Hamid, the Praised One
57, Al-Muhsi, the Appraiser
58, Al-Mubdi, the Originator
59, Al-Mu'id, the Restorer
60, Al-Muhyi, the Giver of Life
61, Al-Mumit, the Taker of Life
62, Al-Hayy, the Ever-Living One
63, Al-Qayyum, the Self-Existing One
64, Al-Wajid, the Finder
65, Al-Májid, the Glorious
66, Al-Wahid, the Only One
67, Al-Ahad, the One
68, As-Samad, the Satisfier of All Needs
69, Al-Qadir, the All-Powerful
70, Al-Muqtadir, the Creator of All Power
71, Al-Muqaddim, the Expediter
72, Al-Mu'akhkhir, the Delayer
73, Al-Awwal, the First
74, Al-Akhir, the Last
75, Az-Zahir, the Manifest One
76, Al-Batin, the Hidden One
77, Al-Walí, the Protecting Friend
78, Al-Muta'ali, the Supreme One
79, Al-Barr, the Doer of Good
80, At-Tawwib, the Guide to Repentance
81, Al-Muntaqim, the Avenger
82, Al-Afu, the Forgiver
83, Ar-Ra'uf, the Clement
84, Malik al-Mulk, the Owner of All
85, Dhul-Jalali Wal-Ikram, the Lord of Majesty and Bounty
86, Al-Muqsit, the Equitable One
87, Al-Jami, the Gatherer
88, Al-Ghani, the Rich One
89, Al-Mughni, the Enricher
90, Al-Mani', the Preventer of Harm
91, Ad-Darr, the Creator of the Harmful
92, An-Nafi, the Creator of Good
93, An-Nur, the Light
94, Al-Hadi, the Guide
95, Al-Badi, the Originator
96, Al-Baqi, the Everlasting One
97, Al-Warith, the Inheritor of All
98, Ar-Rashid, the Righteous Teacher
99, As-Sabur, the Patient One

The word Allah simply means the God.

Do you think any of the 99 Names would be out of place in a Christian litany?

Which names do you think have Biblical resonances?

Compare 73 and 74, the First and the Last, with the Alpha and the Omega.

How about the way, the truth and the light?

How adequate are our resources for naming and calling on God?

How limited are those resources?

Do you find the forms of addressing God in the collects in The Book of Common Prayer limiting?

The Christian composer John Tavener was commissioned by Prince Charles to write The Beautiful Names, a musical setting for the 99 Names of God drawn from the Qur’an and performed in Westminster Abbey. This eclectic work draws inspiration from several religions other than Islam and Christianity, but has provoked unease among Christians who regard it as inappropriate for performance in a Christian church.

Christopher Howse, a Roman Catholic columnist with the Daily Telegraph, wrote some years ago: “The word Allah refers to the same God that Jews and Christians worship. There is no doubt of that. He is the God of Abraham and Isaac; the one living God. He is the God that Jesus worshipped and whom he invoked, in Aramaic, as he died on the cross, calling on him by the name Eloi.” However, these views also drew a storm of protest.

Difficulties and opportunities:

Church and Mosque side-by-side in an urban setting in Egypt (Photograph, Patrick Comerford)

Even if we solved all our problems, we would have to ask whether we can pray together?

This is of a different nature than the question: Can Jews and Christians pray together? Of course they can: Christ and the Apostolic community worshipped in the Temple and in synagogues. And while Jews generally have no problem about us praying with them, they can have reservations (some) about coming to pray with us, unless there are prior assurances.

However, shared prayer with Muslims is of a different nature. What do Muslims understand we are doing should we join them in prayer, when this is regarded as submission to Islam?

If we invite Muslims to pray in our churches, may they be quietly offended, for despite what the Quran says about us being “people of the book,” there are Muslims who think we are not monotheists, but tritheists, and that our Trinity is God, Jesus and Mary.

Can we pray the words of the Fathiah?

In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.
Praise belongs to God, the Lord of all Being,
The All-merciful, the All-compassionate,
Master of the Day of Judgment,
Thee only we serve; to thee we pray for succour.
Guide us in the straight path,
The path of those whom Thou hast blessed,
Not of those against whom Thou art wrathful,
Nor of those who are astray.

Quran 1: 1-7

What does a Muslim mean by those who deserve God’s anger or who have gone astray?

Finding opportunities:

There are, however, opportunities.

There are people who often think of the Islamic world as barbarous, where criminals have their hands chopped off hands, women are forced to wear the chador, and condemned women are stoned to death.

But I would not like Christianity to be judged by the use of the electric chair in some states in the US, or by the behaviour of the Crusaders, or even by the behaviour of some of our politicians and bankers today.

Muslims often think of the West as decadent, which is why many Muslims are happier with their girls going to convent schools.

There are areas of ethical and public behaviour that offer opportunities for mutual co-operation and room for exploration. These areas include: the exploitation of the poor; global banking ethics; equality; family values, &c.

Finding those opportunities:

A mosque on the Greek island of Rhodes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

1, Look for prayerful opportunities, even if prayer together is not always possible. For example invite your Muslim neighbours and friends to church events, keep them informed of church activities within the community. It can be hurtful not to count them in, for example, when we pray after major national or international disasters.

2, Do not wait for invitations. Instead, initiate visits. Go to a mosque and a restaurant. I experienced a wonderful example of how fieldwork can enrich dialogue when I took a group of academics by to Rhodes, where we visited Crusader sites, mosques, and met local Greek Muslims who were of Turkish ethnic ancestry,

3, Seek to educate others in sensitivity (e.g. headscarves, places to pray and not to pray, the needs of children fasting during Ramadan). At a negative level, this counter-balances tendencies that could develop into racism or xenophobia. But at a positive level these become opportunities for dialogue and exchange.

4, Find opportunities to meet and eat together. As a family, we shop in the mosque in Clonskeagh and on the South Circular Road for Greek food, garlic peppers, falafels, feta cheese. But you can also go to Id celebrations when you are invited, and can ask Muslims about their food customs…

5, Do not wait for disasters to occur. Consult those who are aware of the issues that may arise. Know who they are in advance. Get to know friendly, local Muslims too.

Some reading

Coleman Barks has three volumes of translation of Rumi’s poetry:
Like This,
Open Secret and
We are three.

John Baldock, The Essence of Rumi (London: Arcturus, 2006).
John Baldock, The Essence of Sufism (Royston: Eagle/Arcturus, 2004).
John Bowker, Voices of Islam (Oxford: One World, 1995).
Colin Chapman, Cross & Crescent: responding to the challenge of Islam (Leicester: IVP, 1995).
Patrick Comerford Embracing Difference: The Church of Ireland in a Plural Society (Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing, 2007).
Patrick Comerford, Reflections of the Bible in the Qur’an (Dublin: The National Bible Society of Ireland, 2008, The Bedell Boyle Lecture 2006).
JS Cutsinger, Paths to the Heart: Sufism and the Christian East (Bloomington IN: World Wisdom, 2002).
William Dalrymple, From the Holy Mountain: a journey in the shadow of Byzantium (London: Flamingo/Harper Collins, 1998).
Hugh Goddard, Christians & Muslims: From double standards to mutual understanding (Richmond: Curzon Press, 1995).
Guidelines for Interfaith Events & Dialogue, Prepared by the Committee for Christian Unity and the Bishops of the Church of Ireland (Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing, 2007).
BE Hinze and IA Omar (eds), Heirs of Abraham: the future of Muslim, Jewish and Christian Relations (Maryknoll NY: Orbis, 2005).
Michael Ipgrave (ed), The Road Ahead: a Christian-Muslim Dialogue (London: Church House Publishing, 2002).
Michael Ipgrave (ed), Scriptures in Dialogue: Christians and Muslims studying the Bible and the Qur’an together (London: Church House Publishing, 2004).
Tarif Khalidi, The Muslim Jesus: Sayings and Stories in Islamic Literature (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2001).
Michael Nazir-Ali, Islam: A Christian Perspective (Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1983).
Michael Nazir-Ali, Mission and Dialogue (London: SPCK, 1995).
Leslie Newbigin, Lamin Sanneh and Jenny Taylor, Faith and Power: Christianity and Islam in ‘Secular’ Britain (London: SPCK, 1998).
Malise Ruthven, Islam in the West (London: Penguin, 2000).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, and a former secretary of the Inter-Faith Working Group of the Church of Ireland. This essay is based on notes prepared for a Lenten talk in Saint Brigid’s Parish, Castleknock, Co Dublin, on 27 March 2012.

Poms for Lent (32): ‘What the Thunder said,’ from ‘The Waste Land’ by TS Eliot

‘What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow / Out of this stony rubbish?... / A heap of broken images, where the sun beats/ And the dead trees give no shelter ...’ TS Eliot, ‘The Waste Land’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

I began this series of Poems for Pent on Ash Wednesday [22 February 2012] by choosing TS Eliot’s ‘Ash Wednesday.’ Now as we come towards the climax of Lent in Passiontide, my choice of poem this morning is ‘What the Thunder said,’ which part 5 of ‘The Waste Land’ by TS Eliot (1888-1965).

We are almost at the end of March and the end of Lent. Palm Sunday, which marks the beginning of Holy Week next week, falls on 1 April, and I am reminded of TS Eliot’s opening line in ‘The Waste Land’:

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

We have passed the Spring Equinox, and it is so noticeable these evenings that the days are getting longer. In this season of moving from death through rebirth to new life, we are also quickened the pace as we move through Lent to Easter, from penitence death to celebration and resurrection.

In this poem, Eliot provides a rich resource for understanding this passage of time as he contemplates his own passage from scepticism to belief, from cynicism to the embrace of divine mystery, drawing on Lenten themes as he narrates his spiritual journey.

Lent confronts us on with our own mortality and also lead us into the experience of the death of Christ. A spirituality informed by Lent insists that we wrestle with the inevitability of our own deaths, in the light of the death of Christ, as we journey towards Easter and Resurrection. In the midst of the wasteland, we become aware that we are on the road to Emmaus, as Eliot reminds us in Part 5:

Who is the third who walks beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you.

The experience of failure and disappointment is sometimes understood as a crisis of religious faith. In the Gospels, however, it is precisely at this moment that Christ appears to the disciples. Only as we deny ourselves, only in the awareness of our human limitations, Eliot insists, are we open to the “peace that surpasses understanding.”

‘Ash Wednesday’ illustrates Eliot’s movement from a tentative faith toward a deep commitment. This journey takes place in the desert, where one is without support systems. In the desert, the mystics confronted the demonic; in the desert experiences of our lives we discover who we are before God.

The season of Lent calls us to self-examination and to a desire for God. ‘Ash Wednesday’ closes with Eliot’s prayer:

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
And let my cry come unto Thee.

‘The Waste Land’ is a 434-line poem, first published in 1922. It has been called “one of the most important poems of the 20th century.” But the poem is seen by many as obscure, and its obscurity is heightened by shifts between satire and prophecy, its abrupt and unannounced changes of speaker, location and time, its elegiac but intimidating summoning up of a vast and dissonant range of cultures and literatures.

Yet, despite this perceived obscurity, the poem is a touchstone of modern literature. Among its famous phrases are “April is the cruellest month” (the first line), “I will show you fear in a handful of dust,” and, in its last line, the mantra in Sanskrit:

Shantih, shantih, shantih.

In ‘The Waste Land,’ Eliot draws on diverse sources across the history of culture and literature, including Greek mythology, the Upanishads, Buddha’s sermons, the Bible, Saint Augustine’s Confessions, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, Dante’s Inferno and Purgatorio, Shakespeare’s plays, Wagner’s operas, the writings of Herman Hesse, Shackleton’s account of his Antarctic expedition, and even the colloquial dialogue he overheard between his first wife and their maid.

The poem is divided into five sections:

1, The Burial of the Dead
2, A Game of Chess
3, The Fire Sermon
4, Death by Water
5, What the Thunder said.

In Part 1 of ‘The Waste Land,’ ‘The Burial of the Dead,’ Eliot invokes the Prophet Ezekiel as he describes modern existence:

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of Man
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats
And the dead trees give no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.

He sees us living in a time of hopelessness, of “broken images,” where there is no shelter, no life-giving water. Yet, glimpses of hope are to be found all around us:

… … Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something that is different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

While earlier commentators tended to read ‘The Waste Land’ as a secular commentary on life in London in the inter-war years, more recent studies see in this poem a description of Eliot’s pilgrimage to faith from the Unitarianism of his childhood and youth, through his readings in Hinduism to his preparation for his eventual Baptism in 1927 and his subsequent, life-lasting Anglo-Catholicism.

In a recent study, A. Lee Fjordbotten, (‘Liturgical influences of Anglo-Catholicism on ‘The Waste Land’ and other works by TS Eliot,’ Fordham University, 1999), says ‘The Waste Land’ reveals a spiritually searching and developing Eliot who is anticipating his formal conversion in 1927. He points out that the structure of the poem is similar to the traditional process of conversion, especially as seen in the season of Lent.

In this way, the poem becomes the chronicle of Eliot’s own spiritual journey to conversion, and he analyses the five sections of ‘The Waste Land’ liturgically, in relation to the five Sundays of Lent and their respective themes, so that Part V, ‘What the Thunder says,’ relates to the Fifth Sunday in Lent and this week.

In her more recent study of ‘The Waste Land,’ ‘The Prefiguration of TS Eliot’s conversion in ‘The Waste Land’,’ in the Saint Austin Review (January/February 2012, pp 19-20), Paula L. Gallagher, says the beginning of Eliot’s conversion is prefigured in this poem and begins with his recognition of the emptiness of modernity.

She argues that the poem – far from being just the apogee of modernist despair – significantly prefigures his conversion to Anglo-Catholicism: “Eliot’s personal journey through the Waste Land – from the rejection of modernity, to the search for Christ, to the arrival of rain – contains imagery, allusions and ideas that prefigure that conversion to Anglo-Catholicism.”

The fact that Eliot is writing this poem about the barrenness of modernity and imaging it as a Waste Land shows that Eliot sees through modernity to the reality of its sterility. The image of the Waste Land represents the aridity of modernity, its lack of culture and tradition, and indeed its inability to allow culture and tradition to grow and flourish. Hence, the Waste Land is repeatedly described as a desert with “dry stone and no sound of water.”

The Waste Land, where “there is not water but only rock,” lacks the life-giving and life-sustaining water which will enable tradition and culture to thrive. The poet is seeking the rain which will reanimate the Waste Land of modernity; the rain which will touch and enliven the dead roots of tradition and culture. This water, ultimately, is Christianity.

‘Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours / With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine’ (Photograph: ChrisO)

In ‘The Waste Land,’ Eliot singles out for special mention two London churches, known not only as two architectural masterpieces by Christopher Wren, but as important centres of Anglo-Catholic life: Saint Mary Woolnoth and Saint Magnus the Martyr.

In Part 1, ‘The Burial of the Dead,’ he walks

… down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine

He got to know Saint Mary Woolnoth, on the corner of Lombard Street and King William Street, while he was working in the City at Lloyds Bank from 1917 to 1925. Professor Barry Spurr of the University of Sydney, in his study of Eliot’s Anglo-Catholicism, ‘Anglo-Catholic in Religion’ TS Eliot and Christianity (Cambridge: Lutterworth, 2010), says the dedication of the church to the Blessed Virgin Mary chimes with Eliot’s subsequent Anglo-Catholicism, and reads in the reference to the “dead sound on the final stroke of nine” a reference to the traditional time of execution in prisons – and so to the execution of Christ at the ninth hour.

Saint Magnus the Martyr in Lenten array and with ‘Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold’ (Photograph: Steve Cadman)

In Part 3, ‘The Fire Sermon,’ Eliot celebrates spiritual importance the Church of Saint Magnus the Martyr, the fishermen’s church near London Bridge:

… where the walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold

John Betjeman would later write: “the whole district smells of fish, but inside the church there is the abrupt change to a smell of insense.”

In a footnote, Eliot says the interior of the church is “one of the finest among Wren’s interiors.” Barry Spurr notes that Saint Magnus Martyr “was one of the leading shrines of the Anglo-Catholic movement and it is very notable that Eliot should not only refer to it, but, in the midst of a poem of almost unrelieved negativity, present it so positively (if somewhat uncomprehendingly) in terms of the exquisite beauty of its interior: its “Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.”

Spurr points out that white and gold are “the liturgical colours … of Eastertide and resurrection, a concept otherwise denied repeatedly throughout ‘The Waste Land’.”

Father George Every told Spurr that Eliot started frequenting the High Mass at Saint Magnus the Martyr after World War I, and that “the influence of the liturgy on the drama was indeed apparent to him before he was a believer. Images out of Murder in the Cathedral and The Family Reunion belong to this time.” Eliot first enjoyed Saint Magnus aesthetically for its “splendour” and that later he appreciated its “utility” when he came there as a sinner.

The plaque marking the Faber and Faber office in Bloomsbury where TS Eliot worked at the time of his conversion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The Waste Land also encompasses the “Unreal City” of London, a particular instantiation of modernity, which Eliot uses to convey specific ideas about the state of modernity. London is “Unreal”; it is not connected to objective reality but is immersed in the empty pursuits of modernity.

In the fifth section of the poem, which I have chosen this morning, she points out that other major historical and cultural cities in addition to London are depicted as crumbling “falling towers” and as “Unreal”: Jerusalem, Athens, Alexandria and Vienna. Significantly, Rome is not included in the list, and so is symbolically excluded from the Waste Land. Rome, the ‘Eternal City,’ symbolises the grace of Christ and is a fortress of culture and tradition. Eliot’s recognition of the unreality of modernity and the role of Rome in history is another step on his path to conversion.

Gallagher argues that the beginning of Eliot’s conversion, as prefigured in the poem, begins with his recognition of the emptiness of modernity. The fact that Eliot is writing this poem about the barrenness of modernity and imaging it as a Waste Land shows that he sees through modernity to the reality of its sterility. “The image of the Waste Land represents the aridity of modernity, its lack of culture and tradition, and indeed its inability to allow culture and tradition to grow and flourish...”

She finds another prefiguration of Eliot’s conversion in the opening lines of the fifth section, “What the Thunder Said”, which contain allusions to Christ’s Passion:

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses

Professor Lawrence S. Rainey of Yale University also recognises a connection between the phrases “silence in the gardens” and “agony in stony places” and the Garden of Gethsemane. [Lawrence S. Rainey, The Annotated Waste Land with Eliot’s Contemporary Prose (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), p. 116.]

Gallagher identifies the “Prison and Palace” with Pontius Pilate’s house and prison, continuing the connection to Christ’s Passion. Christ has died – “He who was living is now dead” – and his Resurrection is merely hinted at:

… reverberation
Of thunder of spring

Thunder is preliminary to the rain, and springtime is the time of rebirth. The rain is the symbol of hope, that there could be a regenerative, spiritual rebirth. Water in the Waste Land is Christianity, and the Resurrection is the heart of Christianity. The Resurrection makes possible the rebirth of humanity into the life of grace through baptism.

In choosing these images to prepare the later presentation of Christ as the source of hope and regeneration, Eliot’s conversion is again prefigured she writes.

In this section, Eliot also alludes to Christ’s post-Resurrection appearance to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. In the poem, the people are journeying, continuing the conceit of a pilgrimage. The poet sees but does not know who the third person is: “Who is the third who walks always beside you?” This is Christ, hidden from recognition, for he is

Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded.

The climax of the poem comes with the arrival of the rain. The scene is a deserted church, inside which a “cock stood on the rooftree”, crowing. The cock traditionally heralds the dawn, which is another symbol of Christ. Thus the cock is announcing the Resurrection. Instantly the rain arrives:

Then a damp gust
Bringing rain

The arrival of the rain is the apocalyptic moment, when the reanimation of modernity can finally come to fruition. The arrival of the rain, at the moment when the cock crows, connects Christ and his resurrection as the source of life (water) in the desert of the Waste Land. With the resurrection and with grace, modernity can recover its deadened culture and traditions; modernity can be regenerated and made fertile again. By connecting the resurrection imagery with the remedy for the barrenness of the Waste Land, Eliot recognises the crucial role that Christianity plays in society and in reality.

The Thunder, which is mentioned in the title of Section 5, speaks near the end of the poem, giving three commands that Eliot explains as give (data), sympathise (dayadhvam), and control (damyata). According to Rainey, giving means charity, sympathy means compassion, and control means self-control. These three commands, given in the voice of the thunder, are Eliot’s instructions for what to do when the rain, or the grace of the resurrection, comes to humanity. Living these commands will allow humanity to truly live a meaningful life, after being reanimated by the rain.

The last lines of the poem contain many images and allusions, which formally incarnate the collapse of the Waste Land. The unreal city is collapsing:

London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down.

Modernity cannot sustain itself and it crumbles. Eliot knows that the Waste Land is empty and collapsing; for him the way to the Waste Land is ruined. The next line, from Dante’s Purgatorio – “Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina” (“Then he vanished into the fire that refines them”) – indicates that Eliot himself has chosen to leave the Waste Land and to journey towards Purgatory and its purification.

The poem ends with an offering of hope. The last line is:

Shantih shantih shantih.

According to Eliot’s footnote, this means “the Peace which passeth understanding.” Rainey notes that this line also alludes to Philippians 4: 7, “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” And so, the journey or pilgrimage through the Waste Land of modernity fimds its true end with the arrival of rain and grace, and concludes with the peace of God. The poem ends on a note of hope and the possibility of order emerging from the madness and disorder of modernity.

‘The Waste Land’ read by Robert Speaight, Argo Records cover by Olga Lehmann

V. What the Thunder said by TS Eliot

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
– But who is that on the other side of you?

What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain

Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands

I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down
Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam ceu chelidon
– O swallow swallow
Le Prince d’Aquitaine a la tour abolie
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.
Shantih shantih shantih


TS Eliot, The Complete Poems & Plays (London: Faber and Faber, 1969).

Steve Ellis, TS Eliot, A guide for the perplexed London: Continuum, 2009).

A. Lee Fjordbotten, ‘Liturgical influences of Anglo-Catholicism on ‘The Waste Land’ and other works by TS Eliot,’ Fordham University, 1999.

Paula L. Gallagher, ‘The Prefiguration of TS Eliot’s conversion in ‘The Waste Land’,’ Saint Austin Review (January/February 2012), pp 19-20),

BC Southam, A Student’s Guide to the Selected Poems of TS Eliot (London: Faber and Faber, 1968).

Barry Spurr, ‘Anglo-Catholic in Religion’ TS Eliot and Christianity (Cambridge: Lutterworth, 2010).

George Williamson, A Reader’s Guide to TS Eliot, a poem-by-poem analysis (London: Thames and Hudson, 2nd ed, 1967).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.