Old Age: Consoling Hopes

Only a few of your friends remain in this world, and they too will depart for that place. Therefore, death in this world is not separation, but reunion—a meeting with the friends who have gone before you.”

It then became clear to me that the souls of those friends had left their worn-out bodies—their former dwellings—beneath the earth. Some of them are now journeying among the stars, while others travel through the various levels of the ālam-i barzakh.

Indeed, this truth has been established so conclusively by the Qur’an and īmān that anyone whose heart has not been numbed or suffocated by misguidance, and whose soul has not died, ought to believe in it as though beholding it with his own eyes.

For the Generous and Merciful Creator, Who has adorned this world with countless manifestations of mercy and blessing, Who makes His sovereignty known through His generosity and compassion, and Who preserves and protects even the smallest and seemingly most insignificant things, such as seeds, will certainly never, under any circumstances, mercilessly destroy and consign to nothingness the most perfect, most comprehensive, most valuable, and most beloved of all His creatures—the human being—as outward appearances might suggest.

Rather, just as a farmer casts seeds into the earth so that they may germinate in another season, the Merciful Creator places His beloved creature, the human being, beneath the earth only for a time. And that earth is, in reality, a gate of mercy through which he shall emerge into life anew in another realm of existence.

After receiving this reminder from the Qur’an, the cemetery became more familiar and comforting to me than the city of Istanbul itself. Solitude and seclusion became more pleasant to me than company and social gatherings.

Thus, I found a secluded retreat for myself in Sarıyer, beside the Bosphorus. There, just as Ghawth-i Azam (rh), through his Futūh al-Ghayb, became my teacher, healer, and guide, so too did Imam Rabbānī (rh), through his Maktūbāt, become a trusted companion, a compassionate friend, and a master to me.

I then felt profound contentment at having entered old age, withdrawn from the pleasures of civilisation, and detached myself from social life. For all this, I offered my gratitude to Allah.

O brothers and sisters who, like me, have entered old age and are frequently reminded of death!

Through the light of the teachings of īmān bestowed upon us by the Qur’an, we should look upon old age, death, and illness with favour, and in a certain sense even come to love them.

For since we possess the immeasurably precious gifts of belief in Allah and in the Hereafter, old age, illness, and even death are things we may welcome. What is truly evil, however, is sin, immorality, misguidance, and unbelief.