I am constantly taken back by the variety of prayer beads that family members insist on bringing me when traveling to and from the Middle East. I’ve developed an amusing reputation in my family as the bead collector. From grandparents to the youngest cousins, this practice has blossomed into an ongoing ritual till today. I’ve enthusiastically embraced the title as bead collector and observe in wonder as relatives contribute lovingly to an enormous and sentimental collection.
The scenario is rather common for Middle Eastern families. The ceremonial unzipping of scattered luggage at 3 a.m. as half-awake relatives instigate what I call the nostalgic interrogation. “How is so-and-so? Did you see so-and-so?” stories, giggles and the smell of coffee fill the house.
Gradually, as the late night unravels into early morning, each suitcase is unpacked to reveal a trove of souvenirs, antiquities, handwritten letters and the occasional jar of pickled eggplants declaring “…Give to…” followed by the name of the requestor etched in black pen. Always worth mentioning are the half-dozen boxes of baklava that always invoke the unanswered question “how the hell did you get this much filo dough past customs?” In this exciting ritual of unveiling suitcases, we reminisce over memories and my legacy as the bead collector is fulfilled.
The Prophet Muhammad didn’t use prayer beads in his supplications, rather, he used his fingers to maintain a steady stream of Thikr, or remembrance. The Prophet never outrightly mentioned prayer beads, nor did he condemn them, and it is within this unclear dilemma that prayer beads have earned their controversial status in the Islamic world. I marvel at how sudden everyone becomes a scholar regarding the issue. I would often get stopped and told courageously “Brother, that is not of the way of The Prophet. That is an innovation” pointing at the beads as if a deadly cobra had coiled itself on my arm. “Explain to me.” I would demand, waving the deadly cobra around. Often the conversation would thin out into a typical “It’s just not in the prophetic path, so just put them in your pocket.” I would cringe at the lack of knowledge and their dismissal to cite any valid jurisprudence or any acknowledgement that beads signify the domain of spiritual discipline and growth.
Hilariously, I found myself among brothers and sisters who unflinchingly asked “Bro, where are your beads? How are you just walking around bead-less?” as if to suggest I’m just gliding through this whole “religion thing” without a frontal lobe. It’s usually then that I remind them that Islam is a proactive not a reactive system of faith. That, in times of turbulence or modernity, we are expected to take a step forward, not a step back. If the beads are scary because they came after the Prophet, we need to talk. If the lack of beads disqualifies one from loving God and his Messengers, then we need to talk. To withdrawal oneself when challenged with any new-age, modern understanding of the world is a sign of distrust and deep trouble. Also, to withdrawal oneself when challenged by anything but the primordial roots of Islam is also a sign of distrust and deep trouble. The prophet Muhammad told us to live in the time we are in. How simple is that?
But how strange when you consider that the Islamic world and the Middle East is filled with these cobra-like prayer beads? Understandably, Muslims see deviation from the Prophetic wisdom as something that could lead them into decent and suspicion. However, we also rely on that very same prophetic wisdom to guide us out of decent and suspicion. Are we paying attention? After looking deeper, I have discovered that the very word for prayer beads in Arabic is called Mas’baha, which means “the place I swim.” Extracted from the belief that when in contemplation or absorbed thought, one virtually “swims” in the realm of God. The one place a Muslim can drown without dying. During the Ottoman Empire, the Mas’baha symbolized inner contemplation, spiritual improvement and was associated with pacifism and humility. When I lived in Syria, it was taken as a subliminal declaration of peace, a subtle way of saying “Don’t mind me, for I am swimming in Gods Ocean.” And nobody wants to mess with that guy.
I’ve come to realize that Islam will only struggle to find a legitimate interpretation in the “modern” world for as long as Muslims are willing to hide away from that modern world. Repeat after me: “A tug-of-war between The Ancient World and The New World is not a valid spiritual stance.” We are here, right now and not in 610 A.D Ancient Arabia, and that’s ok Muslims, that’s ok.
But it’s not always cosmic swimming pools and celestial backstrokes. It would be inconceivable to say living in this world isn’t difficult. One of the many battles of today is having the most sacred thing, your faith, scrutinized by the standards of a materialistic, postmodern world; one that unflinchingly screams “Ew! Gross! Your religion is so old! Throw that thing away!” Who isn’t intimidated by that? I am. We all live in this fast-moving, technological world that expects us to update religion as often as our phone updates its software. Sending the impression that people of faith are inadvertently brandishing a filthy rag above their head called religion, and all they must do is simply get rid of it. But hold on! Don’t surrender or encourage others to surrender! Hang on you your beads, for within them is a way to God! Imagine with me that the modern world is a vicious unforgiving tiger. Apply your faith in a way that allows you to mount the back of the beast and ride it! We are not expected to stand there while we get devoured by its brutality. So ride the tigers back. And the greatest wisdom I can share is It won’t even know you’re there. In the meantime, I’m going swimming.