Shaykh Riad Saloojee

What is ‘izza? English translations of the Qur’an typically translate ‘izza as glory, might and honour. And therefore: To Allah, His Messenger ﷺ and the believers belongs all glory, might and honour. But the etymology of the word ‘izza denotes many meanings: strength and power; rarity and preciousness; and even difficulty and unattainability.

Those who persecute the Palestinians — directly or by collusion — seem congenitally blind to the Muslim Palestinian soul.

They have never seen Palestinians as anything more than despised, deprecated subjects that should — but inconveniently will not — bow to a brutal and savage occupation.

Shaykh Riad Saloojee shares 7 commitments we can pledge to in the plight of recent events in Gaza.

Those who were graced to sit and learn at the feet of Shaykh Taha Karaan soon realized: Our teachers are indeed Allah’s greatest means to call us to true life.

I can’t breathe. George Floyd’s last words, conveying, verbatim, Eric Garner’s last words, with echoes through a long chain of souls – Breonna Taylor, Michael Brown, Walter Scott, Freddie Grey, Jamar Clark, Alton Sterling, Stephon Clark and Botham Jean – is a testamentary call that should pierce every Muslim’s mind and heart.

Has fasting [fill in number] Ramaḍāns in my life changed me? If not, why? The answers to these twin questions are my most important pre-Ramaḍān preparation.

A public intellectual recently wrote that we are all living, through the coronavirus tribulation, a pandemic of death’s dominion. Are we?

Is the coronavirus, in its deeper spiritual reality, a reflection of all we have crowned in our lives apart from Him? Is it not a message from Him to me? Is He not constricting through it every passageway, except the pathway to Him? If I cannot reach the Divine’s door now, in this trial, then when?

Even as the celebrations of the Month of First Spring, Rabiul Awwal, inevitably pass, Allah has ensured that his ﷺ merciful-love will forever remain. For there is no end to the first spring. After Rabiul Awwal comes Rabiul Thani — the second spring. The first spring is his ﷺ birth into this world; the second is his birth into your heart.

My wife’s eyes tear with talk of sighting the moon. My young daughters can’t wait for the thrill of it. My elder daughters feign a je-ne-sais-pas teenage indifference but the twinkle in their eyes tells another tale. I can’t believe how such a thin slice in space binds hearts together in such longing. These days, we can’t imagine a Ramadan without heading out to sight the moon.

They saw you and they fell in love

Their hearts a-flight, they soared above

I missed the chance to see your face

My soul, my heart, roams out-of-place

The sea has confided in children secrets from the Divine that I won’t be able to intellectualize – but secrets that would set me free.

Muslims should not be uncritical in accepting mindfulness meditation as yet another attempt to treat the spiritual void generated by secular materialism. For all its perceived benefits, mindfulness remains a fast-food solution to the spiritual hunger of our times. It is a proverbial doughnut that satiates symptoms but does not address root malnutrition. Mindfulness is very much an integral part of Islamic spirituality, but with a profound difference: Islam prescribes Divine-mindfulness.

They would repeat His words, “And how many signs in the heavens and earth do they pass by while turning away?” then say to me: Ready your sails now; for soon, your sea will also be still.

It is bedtime. My two children get to each choose a story. Recently, they keep choosing the story of 'Isa (alayhi salam). Again and again. I keep wondering, why do they want it time and time again?