Part 2

Part 2

… Shaykh San‘an renounced his faith among the Christian monks in the church, and tied around his waist the zunnar cord, which in Islamic lands was the mark of unbelief; he drank wine and threw the Mushaf into the fire (we seek refuge in Allah). Then he went out to the pasture to herd swine. After sunset he would come back and busy himself with lighting the church fire. This went on for three years. In all those three years the shaykh’s love for the Christian girl did not diminish one bit — rather, it grew; indeed, he waited with longing for the union he would have with her. At last, when the appointed day came, the shaykh went to the girl’s street, but she did not so much as glance at him; the old man followed after her and said, “Keep your promise, O girl.” The girl gave him one look and said, “Have you ever seen a young girl love an old man? Your mind, which grasped everything, could not grasp this? I never promised you anything,” and she turned her face away and left. The shaykh froze. He fell into despair, left the city and went on herding his swine. As it happened, there was one among his disciples whom the shaykh, before leaving for Rum, had sent far away on an errand; when this disciple came back having finished the task, there was no Shaykh San‘an in Mecca, and the students were scattered… This student gathered everyone who remained and said to them:

“O you who are worse than swine in honor! The shaykh was your pir, and you were his murids. You hoped for his guidance. The condition of this path of poverty was that whatever the murshid does, his murids follow him, yet turn their faces to God and do it for God. If he mixes with people, they must be with people; if he is left alone, they must remain in solitude with him. The garb of Sufis is wasted on faithless ones like you: the cloak and the turban of the people of piety are wasted on you! While the shaykh was well, you professed your love! When trouble befell him, you ran away from him! You were faithless to your teacher and abandoned him in the church. Do you not fear God? Are you not ashamed before people? When your pir meets with such a thing, you renounce your own guide — you had grown tired of serving him, perhaps of his very being, of his existence! You call yourselves righteous, dervishes. Shame on your asceticism, your prayer beads, your turbans and your staffs. Had the shaykh raised dogs instead of training you, would his dogs not have stayed loyal to him in the days when such oppression came upon him from the heavens? Even if some of his dogs had left, surely some would have stayed by his side; they would have bitten his enemies and driven them off barking; they would have howled and wailed in mourning for the shaykh’s ruined state. If man is faithless, then in the matter of loyalty a dog is better than he! Had you been men, when such a calamity befell your teacher, when he was smitten with love for someone and brought torment upon himself, it would have been your duty to take that torment upon yourselves as well — that is, to stand by his side and share his pain! But all of you showed what it means to feel nothing, and abandoned your teacher like cowards!”

To be continued.