Invocations
Prayer reveals the praying one as questions lay bare the questioner. Listen and learn about people. This reminds me of a story:
It was Friday afternoon, after the zuhr, at the tea house in Nasrudin’s village. Groups of weary men sat outside, drinking tea while resting from the hard work of the week.
Yet they were not allowed to rest. Like a gadfly, a young bearded dervish newly arrived in the village flew from group to group, admonishing Allah to grant him his infinite grace:
“Praise be onto Allah, Inspirer of Faith. May he give me lasting faith, that I may follow his glorious way for all my life,” he yelled near one group of somnolent farmers.
“Humiliator, please give me humility, that I may recognise that I am no better than a worm drying in the sand,” he added with intent, passing a merchant.
Tirelessly, he walked through the terrace, loudly granting himself Allah’s praise.
“Doer of Good, make me do good, and preserve me from the evil ways,” he pronounced, his arms spread, looking suspiciously to a group of foreigners.
Finally, he walked past Nasrudin himself, who was enjoying some halva with his tea while discussing with the kadi an incident involving two donkeys.
“O Allah, you who need nothing, may you protect me from gluttony and greed, that I may enter heaven unsoiled!”
Nasrudin looked at the dervish a moment, and then stood up and yelled, at the top of his voice:
“O Allah, praise be unto You who has power over all. May you in your grace grant me good health to the last instant of my life! O Allah, Giver of All, let me have gold inexhaustible, enough to forget forever poverty and greed! O Allah, satisfier of all need, give me a woman most ravishing for my senses but also for my heart! O, Inheritor of All, let me have many good children happy in their turn of life. O, Creator of All Power, give me power enough to protect all this from the stupid and the envious! O Allah…”
The dervish stopped him, a horrified look on his face.
“How dare you ask Allah, praise be his glorious name, for such trivial things!”
Nasrudin looked at him with candid fervour:
“My friend, don’t we each of us pray for what we lack?”
It was Friday afternoon, after the zuhr, at the tea house in Nasrudin’s village. Groups of weary men sat outside, drinking tea while resting from the hard work of the week.
Yet they were not allowed to rest. Like a gadfly, a young bearded dervish newly arrived in the village flew from group to group, admonishing Allah to grant him his infinite grace:
“Praise be onto Allah, Inspirer of Faith. May he give me lasting faith, that I may follow his glorious way for all my life,” he yelled near one group of somnolent farmers.
“Humiliator, please give me humility, that I may recognise that I am no better than a worm drying in the sand,” he added with intent, passing a merchant.
Tirelessly, he walked through the terrace, loudly granting himself Allah’s praise.
“Doer of Good, make me do good, and preserve me from the evil ways,” he pronounced, his arms spread, looking suspiciously to a group of foreigners.
Finally, he walked past Nasrudin himself, who was enjoying some halva with his tea while discussing with the kadi an incident involving two donkeys.
“O Allah, you who need nothing, may you protect me from gluttony and greed, that I may enter heaven unsoiled!”
Nasrudin looked at the dervish a moment, and then stood up and yelled, at the top of his voice:
“O Allah, praise be unto You who has power over all. May you in your grace grant me good health to the last instant of my life! O Allah, Giver of All, let me have gold inexhaustible, enough to forget forever poverty and greed! O Allah, satisfier of all need, give me a woman most ravishing for my senses but also for my heart! O, Inheritor of All, let me have many good children happy in their turn of life. O, Creator of All Power, give me power enough to protect all this from the stupid and the envious! O Allah…”
The dervish stopped him, a horrified look on his face.
“How dare you ask Allah, praise be his glorious name, for such trivial things!”
Nasrudin looked at him with candid fervour:
“My friend, don’t we each of us pray for what we lack?”
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