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| Faith and Care of the
Patient: An Islamic Perspective on
Critical Illness F. A. Khan MD Before discussing the Islamic perspectives
with regard to the psychological issues that arise in those stricken with
critical illness, it is important to lay some groundwork regarding Islam.
This is necessary due to the widespread ignorance that exists concerning a
basic understanding of just what defines Islam in terms of doctrine. Most of what will proceed about this topic
will ring familiar to those who are acquainted with their own faith
traditions – and this is by, dare I say, Divine design. This is true
since Islam, in terms of fundamental beliefs and paradigms, does not claim
to be a new or even separate ‘religion.’ Indeed, today’s over
zealous parochialization and rigid segmentation of things based on
external appearance, including ‘religion,’ runs counter to the Islamic
scriptural admonition to never allow ‘religion’ to be a divisive
issue. Thus far, the term ’religion’ is surrounded by inverted commas,
and that is because I wish to draw the readers’ attention to the
definition of the term ‘religion.’ The term religion may safely be
defined as that path that seeks a state of peace or submissiveness of the
human self toward Divinity. This is exactly what Islam means in the Arabic
language. One who practices this way is titled Muslim. Hence, we may
conclude that the term Islam simply means religion. The term Islam and its lexical derivatives
are used throughout the Qur’an. “Qur’an” literally means
recitation – and is the title of what Muslims consider a revelation from
Divinity Itself in the Arabic language. This is a language spoken by the
dwellers of the deserts of Arabia who were immeasurably attuned to the
ways and realities of creation and the cosmos and developed an incredibly
potent and rich language whose nuances and depth take years to master for
even the greatest savants of language. It should be mentioned that
Qur’anic Arabic is not at all the same as colloquial Arabic spoken
today. The very sounds, cadences and words of the Qur’an are considered
the literal word of God as revealed either directly, or through angelic
medium, to a highly purified and saintly figure named Muhammad who lived
in the 7th century in the Arabian Peninsula. One may often witness Muslim
patients reciting litanies or passages of the Qur’an in an effort to
unlock alleged healing powers that emanate from its authentic recitation.
One may anecdotally hear of positive results of such practices, and I am
aware that studies have been done in an attempt to demonstrate their
therapeutic value. The Qur’an also defines itself as a
scripture; in it we find the doctrine that Islam began with the primordial
couple – Adam and Eve. The term Muslim is also employed in reference to
Noah and Abraham. Islam is considered that perennial way of peace and
submission to the sacred, as practiced by numerous saints and prophets
mentioned in the Qur’an such as those above, as well as Lot, Isaac,
Ishmael, Jacob, Joseph, David, Solomon, Job, Jonah, Moses, Aaron, John,
the Virgin Mary, and Jesus, and others. This way was crystallized during
the mission of Muhammad, and those who follow his precedent have adopted
the title Islam as a proper name signifying their respective faith
tradition that encompasses ritual, law and spiritual development. The
sentiments of Zarathustra of the Parsi tradition, Buddha, as well as that
which underlies the Hindu doctrines - all echo the sentiment of Islam as
defined above. Hence the Islamic tradition embraces that which is
authentic in all faith traditions; as an extension, the Muslim who
understands his or her religion will theoretically feel at home with any
who believe in One God, accountability of one's actions before Divinity,
and righteous conduct. In fact, the Qur’an does not only address
itself to those who follow the precepts of Muhammad, or Arabs, or the
contemporaries of Muhammad; the call of the Qur’an is to any believer in
God who wishes to deepen his or her relationship with the Creator. The
Qur’an explicitly validates other faith traditions and recognizes that
sincere practice in what is authentic in them provides legitimate vehicles
to Divine Proximity. There is no such concept as monopolizing Divine Grace
based on the outward labels or forms practiced by a particular group or
tradition. At the same time, however, Muslims consider that tradition
which was elucidated by Muhammad as the most authentic. I’ve been asked to elaborate on Islam in
the context of the spiritual issues facing the critically ill because of
the “unavoidable religious dimension” inherent in such a scenario. The
whole approach to the topic reveals a curious aspect of today’s
contemporary academic climate. Post-modern secular humanistic thought –
the paradigm that gives rise to and colors academic institutions - seeks
to neatly and quite rigidly compartmentalize and even isolate various life
issues. On some levels this is, I believe, appropriate. However in others
it may be a hindrance. In our scenario, this pattern may prevent both
patients and caregivers from dealing with exigencies of the critically ill
in a wholesome and fulfilling manner – despite a poor medical prognosis.
In discussing compartmentalization, we
should make mention of the current concept of the health care team – the
attending and resident MD, RN, nurse’s aid, case manager, social worker,
at times the pharmacist, chaplain…etc. The nature of institutionalized
care demands a certain parceling off of roles to different members. I
chuckle in recalling a time during administrative rounds when all members
of the team met to formulate plans of care. The tone of the discussion for
my patient with pneumonia was that anyone could write an order for
antibiotics and treat pneumonia, but try to arrange for discharging the
patient to a proper facility – that’s the challenging part! So to a
certain extent, expertise needs to be divided, but who is responsible for
the “religious dimension” that arises with the critically ill? In
terms of recognizing its presence and the need to pursue it if indicated
– perhaps everyone. Is it possible to restore a model of the
healing profession that encompasses spiritual and religious concerns – from
a therapeutic perspective and beyond? The challenge these days lies in the
plurality of the various traditions found in our culture. Naturally,
adherents to a particular faith tradition will feel most comfortable with
their co-religionists, in terms of having common outward forms of
practice. This is quite legitimate and should always be respected. At the
same time, from the perspective of training caregivers to at least be
conscious of a religious dimension, there is enough concordance (despite
outward differences) among the faith traditions to allow competence in
recognizing the need to open avenues of discussion and contemplation that
seem beneficial to patients, or to initiate an enquiry which may help deal
with unresolved issues or difficult questions that arise with a patient. There is a saying: “faith speaks to
faith.” To this I’ve been witness. Just a few weeks ago, a chaplain
from one particular tradition recounted to me how she dealt with a Muslim
patient and I was certain her presence during the difficult moments that
patient faced made a difference. There are scores of other examples I know
of in which devout believers in a particular tradition are able to comfort
adherents of a different faith tradition. From the Islamic perspective, there is no
essential demarcation between sacred and mundane, or secular and
spiritual. All of life’s activities are infused with a spiritual
dimension – echoing as it were, Divine remembrance – so as not to
consider the material (including our earthly life) as an end unto itself.
As testimony that this sentiment is characteristic of not only Islamic
tradition, but almost every traditional civilization, one often encounters
the fact that healers have usually been well versed in the spiritual
dynamics of their respective faith traditions – many were even masters
in these fields. A little known fact is that the Latin term psych means
soul – which, unlike today’s implicit view, was never considered
fettered by a solely rational, inductive, deductive, or purely mental
faculty – and certainly neuro-chemical manipulation would likely have
been seen as a vulgar (but at times necessary) form of behavioral
modification and transformation. The fields of psychiatry and psychology
have done a great disservice to postmodern humankind by tacitly closing
themselves to the realm of metaphysics and refusing to submit to thousands
of years of accumulated wisdom from faith traditions, which in addressing
the inner peace attainable by humans, have too much in common to
disregard. Certain themes arise in the context of
serious illness that relate to the realm of religion and are specifically
addressed in the Muslim world-view. I will elaborate on some:
confrontation with mortality, coping with affliction, and the desire for
companionship. Facing the prospect of one’s own death
and the subject of human mortality is a tricky subject. This is true now,
more than ever, as today’s pop culture exhibits a tremendous
condemnation, aversion, and distaste for mortality, which to a certain
degree is at odds with most religious doctrines. Most faith traditions,
including Islam, implicitly, explicitly, and categorically highlight the
transience of our earthly sojourn; they promote the fact that a greater
reality awaits. This theme is recurrently addressed in the Qur’an. Many
of the Prophet Muhammad’s sayings (narratives and traditions known as
Hadith – which are not considered direct revelation and hence are not
part of the Qur’an) advise against deluding oneself into acting and
feeling as if this life is one of permanence. One of these sayings, echoed
in various forms by saints and writers, dictates that we are indeed
partially asleep or even dead here on earth and through our mortality we
shall experience a “lifting of the veils” and experience reality in a
far more qualitative and quantitative way. Another saying emphasizes the
need to uphold the attitude of a traveler who must traverse this life with
care, always keeping the destination in view. These luminaries lived as
such and they continually emphasized otherworldliness in their beings. An
extension of that was to warn against succumbing to a pathologic
attachment to the earthly phase of our existence. This attachment has many
unfortunate manifestations – which would take us to another topic. Indeed, the very indices of real success
and failure have little to do with what would be termed worldly and
material indices as such, since material existence and progress are not
ends unto themselves. Earthly life is to be enjoyed, but is important only
so far as it impacts our spiritual development – either allowing it to
soar to great heights or degrade into misery despite an appearance of
earthly success. Hence, factors such as wealth, talent, fame, status,
reputation, fortune, ego, pain, affliction, loss, hardship, and misfortune
can be seen as stimuli for spiritual evolution or devolution. The imagery
of trials is often found in the Islamic tradition and ironically, the
saintly scholars are unanimous in stating that trial through misfortune is
far easier to handle than trial through fortune – in terms of exhibiting
the proper spiritual etiquette and growth before the Almighty. In mentioning the term spiritual
development, we must examine the nature of human substance. The Qur’an
alludes to the human being in several respects. There are references to
our organic and embryologic composition, our physiologic and sensate
faculties, our ability to speak, reason, and contend and feel emotions.
However, Islamic tradition goes further and adds to this, as the Qur’an
clearly dictates that the quintessential defining characteristic of the
human envelope is the soul (in Arabic: nafs). This is a conscious,
willful, transcendental component of being and the purpose of religion
from an essential perspective is simply to guard, maintain and purify it.
It must be emphasized here that there is no inherent conflict within
Islamic doctrine between the physical, rational, emotional or spiritual
components of the human being. Hence, there is no doctrine of harsh
asceticism, turning away, or shunning worldly aspects of one's identity,
although there is recognition that the human condition is one of
forgetfulness and distraction through worldly pursuits. It is also
abundantly clear that most of the great spiritual masters in the Islamic
tradition, including the Prophet Muhammad himself, chose a most austere,
simple lifestyle – wholeheartedly content with a minimalist approach to
material pursuits; moreover, during formal spiritual training under the
guidance of sages and saints, there are times where restraint from worldly
activities is called upon in an effort to re-harmonize the
“components” of one’s being. For the Muslim, and indeed any believer in
most faith traditions, there is a sense of peace with regard to mortality.
This thrust is often sensationalized, misused and misunderstood as a
desire to seek death. Because of the maligning of Islam through
contemporary geopolitical events and the tidal wave of woefully poor and
infantile attempts at scholarship and journalism, I feel the need to
explicitly state that on a concrete and doctrinal level, a Muslim does not
seek death – but when it ultimately visits (as it always does), there is
a sense of conciliation, rather than a horrid and even vulgar enmity. The
Qur’an mentions those who look forward to meeting with their Lord. A
famous traditional narrative recounts the death of a child from an
undefined illness. The saintly mother informed her husband by asking what
he thought of the fact that something precious they had been entrusted
with was returned to its Owner. The implication here is clear. For the
Muslim, life and its contingencies (such as volition and will) are a trust
(Arabic: amanat) that is ultimately returned. Indeed, one of the
attributes of Divinity is “al-Hayy,” a Qur’anic term whose lexical
field includes notions of “The Completely Alive” or “The Truly
Existent” or “That which is Real Being” or “That which Fully
Is.” Our sense of being is but an infinitesimally pale reflection that
subsists upon “al-Hayy.” Language buckles here, so I need to say that
these words do not imply pantheism in any way, shape or form. Instead, it
is an attempt to describe an utter state of dependence. An aversion to, and discomfort with death
may have multiple etiologies. From an Islamic standpoint some are valid.
When the subject is a loved one, we encounter mourning a loss, closing a
chapter of existence, and missing an earthly presence. All are very real
and charged emotional states that are respected. With regard to self, this
sadness at the approach of one’s earthly conclusion and want of more
time to cherish that which is here and now, or fulfill responsibilities
– these sentiments are embraced. But when the aversion and discomfort
toward self-mortality and the general topic of death stems from an over
attachment to material life and a delusion that worldly and material life
is the end all and be all – this is criticized by Islamic doctrine. On a
deeper level, the Qur’an mentions a certain type of aversion to death as
analogous to the reflexive manifestation of a soul that fears a meeting
with its Lord due to an intuitive understanding and witnessing of the
negative qualities which have accrued on it via the willful damage it has
consciously inflicted on itself. In Islamic doctrine, to sin is to wrong
one’s own soul – by extension, to harm others is also to harm one's
self. In a way, it remembers just how sorely it has forgotten itself and
neglected its mandate. To be on the lookout for a patient who wishes to
open his or her door to remembrance is perhaps most critical – it is
everyone’s job; hence the gatherings for these conferences at St
Vincent’s and elsewhere. The Muslim is taught that in the Divine
Exactitude, there is no sin too small, but through the Divine Mercy there
is no sin too great. The Divine Mercy does exceed the Divine Wrath; in
this the hope of the Muslims lay. So mortality is not necessarily an enemy.
As a physician, I am very careful not to confuse mortality with morbidity,
which is indeed the enemy. Morbidity and suffering are things to stamp out
and alleviate and indeed can be thought of as separate from mortality.
Many fear mortality because they confuse it with morbidity and suffering.
Conceptually, they are indeed separate, and uncoupling the two for
discussion is mandatory in our context. There are many who experientially
and quite firmly realize this crucial difference between mortality and
morbidity – those in health care, those who are critically ill, those
whose loved ones suffer through critical illness – these all understand
that mortality can be an end to suffering. This again is a loaded topic,
but the dichotomy between the two needs to be stated. The next issue to address in dealing with
this topic is the idea of coping – specifically, coping with critical
illness. It is safe to consider critical illness under the rubric of trial
and affliction in terms of formulating an understanding of a reaction to
such states from an Islamic perspective. The first crucial premise to
realize in dealing with and reacting to conditions in terms of behavior,
formulating sentiments, or action is that for the Muslim, the primary
audience is Divinity. From a certain angle, the Qur’an is simply a
recurrent medley encouraging an experiential realization of this notion.
The Muslim is encouraged to always be in some form of dhikr - a
“remembrance” of the vertical dimension to reality, even more - a
remembrance of Divinity. As stated earlier, there is no essential division
between the secular or sacred. Hence the litanies, inspirational
utterances and religious sayings for everyday things such as eating, using
the bathroom, entering a home, beginning a task, making love to one’s
spouse (well maybe not so everyday), embarking on a journey…. etc. One
of the reasons for this is to surround oneself with dhikr. Directly
extending from this is taking care to maintain oneself in a state of
proper adâb, a term that includes meanings such as etiquette, posture,
courtesy, approach, standing - all before the Primary Audience. To summarize the Islamic perspective on
coping, one can say that the Muslim is encouraged to struggle to alleviate
affliction and hardship based on a sincere understanding of a given
situation. The caveat is to maintain a sense of peace in ones’ inner
self, no matter what the outcome of the endeavor – success or failure.
The very act of intention and effort, or in our case, the desire to regain
health and cope with affliction, pain and therapeutics – these very
things are indeed an end unto themselves, the results may go either way.
This notion, among other things, is an acknowledgment of the Divine Will
– which the Muslim knows is never capricious. Now, what is it to
maintain a “state of peace in ones’ inner self, no matter what the
result?” Well, in the context of a successful outcome, it is to don an
attitude or display the adâb of shukr, which essentially means gratitude.
In the context of perceived failure of a struggle, it is to don an
attitude or display the adâb of sabr, a highly charged term that includes
meanings such as patience, perseverance, fortitude, and keeping ones chin
up, and there is a hint of resignation in the term as well. There is a
narrative tradition which states that the believers’ heart, on whatever
level, is perpetually in the adâb of either shukr or sabr, and another
narrative which states that a lifetime can be viewed as a couple of days
-one a good day (to express shukr) and the other a bad day (for sabr). We need to explore the term sabr (patience,
perseverance, fortitude) a bit further, since the struggle with critical
illness obviously calls for it. It is indeed the hallmark for a Muslim
when confronted with hardship. Implicit in the context of adverse
conditions is a struggle to ameliorate ones circumstances; hence, it
should not be confused with passivity or fatalism. The term sabr is used
over one hundred times in the Qur’an. Recall that for a Muslim, the
Qur’an is the literal word of God, and as a common saying goes, “God
does not waste words.” There are verses that proclaim that “God is
with those in sabr,” and “God loves those who practice sabr.”
Practicing sabr is seen as a most potent vehicle to Divine Proximity, for
spiritual development and purification. There is an expression found in
the Middle East: “May your hardship (or loss/trial/affliction) be for
you a source of nearness to God.” From a converse angle, Divine
Proximity is what the Muslim seeks; sabr delivers such and necessitates
the presence of hardship and affliction for actualization. Again, this
should not be taken to mean that a Muslim seeks hardship or affliction,
but when the circumstances come around, there ensues a quest for sabr. The Qur’anic verses promising struggles
throughout one's life are seen from this regard, rather than a design by
some whimsical and sadistic deity. Again, we approach the impenetrable
questions as to the ultimate whys. The Muslim understands that to approach
the plan of God with the faculties of mental gymnastics is to take in a
landscape while blind, or to solve a multi-linear Boolean equation with
simple arithmetic. However, there is a far more powerful faculty of
realization and understanding for the Muslim, which when awoken renders
the protests of the mental and rational faculties into the annoying and
irrelevant whining of a spoiled brat. The Qur’an refers to this as
knowledge or witnessing of the heart, and it is in this arena that we are
told the “why” is put to rest. This awakening comes only through
Divine Proximity, and practicing sabr is a potential route. So for the
sincere believer, it is possible to come to terms with hardship and
struggle, not so much through empirical deduction, reason, or discursive
cognition, but through spiritual realization, at least this is what we are
taught by the prophets and saints. For the secularist cynic, this is
nothing but a self-serving fantasy and delusion. Of course the ultimate inspiration for the
practice of sabr are the prophets and saints. Historically speaking, they
suffered like no others. We take the example of Muhammad. He was maligned
and slandered. He was assaulted many times, and beaten. He was the target
of multiple assassination attempts, had a bounty hunter quick on his heels
and was poisoned. He had his tooth knocked out, had entrails and feces
flung on him, and was literally stoned and run out of town. Historical
accounts relate that when he fell ill, his suffering would account for the
suffering of two. When he spiked a fever, it would be double that of
others. There is more, but the picture is fairly vivid. For Muslims, the
prophets (including Moses, Mary and Jesus) and the saints are pillars of
sabr and are forever an inspiration to those undergoing hardship, and the
Muslim remains steadfast in the belief in a Qur'anic doctrine which states
that the soul of a servant is never stressed beyond its capacity. From the Islamic perspective, suffering
from illness itself also contains within it a purifying and redemptive
nature. There are traditions that allude to the pangs of illness being
able to shed sins and spiritual pollutants as leaves are shed from a tree.
This expiationary grace is operative with even minimal discomfort, such as
the injury that comes from the prick of a thorn. It is also functional
with those suffering from chronic afflictions, epilepsy and blindness are
mentioned, among others. The underlying premise to this pattern of thought
is that it is far better to atone, purify, and rid oneself of spiritual
pollutants here in this world, as opposed to dragging them to the
hereafter. One absolutely crucial point to understand
is that purification, spiritual development, atonement and expiation which
come in these scenarios and with sabr is strictly conditional upon the
subject allowing Divinity into his or her consciousness. From the Islamic
perspective, God does not impose upon the human consciousness; it is for
the human will to accept or reject, and hence a respectful acceptance or
rejection of the Divine Grace follows. The following tradition illustrates
this superbly: The Prophet Muhammad visited an elderly Bedouin who had
fallen ill and offered him words of comfort and prayed that his hardship
serve as a source of blessings. The Bedouin didn’t see it that way and
scolded that his illness is nothing else than an entity whose pain crushes
his very bones and whose fever boils his blood and hastens him toward a
miserable death. Muhammad gently replied, “Then it is so.” From the Qur’anic standpoint, will and
consciousness are not playthings in the least – the Qur’an makes
mention of the fact that the heavens and the earth cowered from the
proposition of being granted will and consciousness. Hence, from a certain
perspective, one's consciousness carves out one's reality. Interestingly,
the brilliant physicist and mathematician Von Neumann employed the phrase
'consciousness created reality,' in acknowledgement of the way quantum
theory and the new physics has overturned any attempt at explaining
reality from an objective or truly empirical point of view. Yet how
stubbornly and dogmatically many cling to their ideas of “the way things
work” when it comes to ultimate realities and life’s deepest issues. Another element to keep in mind before we
leave the subject of coping with illness is best summed up by the
colloquialism, which states that sometimes things are “a blessing in
disguise.” This hardly needs any exposition, as almost all have been
witness to this in their own lives, a time when hardship and difficult
circumstances turned out, in hindsight, to be not such a malicious
occurrence after all. The Qur’an narrates how this very important facet
of life was impressed upon Moses in his travels with a mystical and
saintly figure named Khidr. Moses witnesses devastating tragedies and
paradoxical situations that are engineered by Khidr. With the evolution of
time and practicing sabr, Moses discovers the wisdom inherent in such
circumstances. Hence, Moses is convinced that indeed, even the most dire
situations may be blessings in disguise. Since sabr does not imply passive
resignation, it does not preclude an intention and effort to ameliorate
one’s condition. Hence, it is little wonder that therapeutics are
embraced. The civilizations that in the Middle Ages were spawned by
Muhammad’s influence (which in turn engendered many facets of this one)
were noted for their advances in the sciences and health care. Surgery,
medicine, and pharmacology were established fields and industries. An
Islamic tradition states, “For every ailment, there is a remedy –
except old age.” Hence, strides in the fields of research and teaching
were welcome. In the 12th century, cities like Baghdad, Cordoba, Damascus,
and Fez had scores of hospitals dedicated to teaching, research, with
wings for social work and medical students! More importantly, the
lifestyle exemplified by the Muhammadan precedent (which was and is most
often neglected by Muslims) pointed to simplicity and moderation,
emphasizing care in the diet (very pertinent these days considering the
toxins that exist in industry foods) and meticulous hygiene, including
oral hygiene. Muhammad was quite explicit in warning of the dangers of
filling the stomach, as he stated that at fullest, the stomach should be a
third food, a third water, and a third empty. So from the Islamic
perspective, preventative medical policies and evolving new therapies to
combat illness are fully consistent with tradition. The last element to discuss in the context
of critical illness is the desire for companionship. A sense of isolation
is commonly felt by the afflicted, and visiting the stricken is a staple
of Islamic social mores, and is indeed common to most traditions. One
narrative relates that Muhammad had a neighbor that used to purposefully
empty trash on Muhammad’s doorstep and walkway. Once when Muhammad noted
that he did not have to wade his way through garbage, he was seen soon
after at the neighbors’ door enquiring about their health and asking if
he may be of service - such is the premium of helping those who are ill. At one level, visitation provides comfort
through sincere well wishing, sympathy, empathy, sharing, love, and
service. Most often, family is best able to actualize this and this truly
is one of the blessings of familial love – so selfless and pure. Those
who have experienced what happens to the elderly and chronically ill when
removed from family in extended care facilities, realize the importance of
familial love and support and know there is simply no substitute for
familial care. But visitation and companionship has a different level of
meaning, more geared for health care professionals and those in the
ministerial fields. This has to do with what in the Islamic context is
called “sohba” – a term denoting companionship and presence. When
referring to presence, I speak not of the word in its’ secularized
context, i.e. being in the same place in space and time with someone.
Rather, presence as it is used in the phrase, “such and such has got a
real presence about them.” This attribute can indeed transcend space and
time; for instance, it is the Muslim who does his or her best to achieve
presence with Muhammad and of course tries to feel the presence of
Divinity. So it should be the goal of those who seek to minister and
provide companionship for the critically ill to develop an authentic
presence, in order to make fruitful their sohba with the patients.
Authentic presence in the scenario of visiting the sick translates to an
uplifting comfort, inspiration, love, encouragement, strength, exhortation
to fortitude, and even healing. Those who interacted with the prophets and
saints reported feeling this very often – these luminaries exuded such
qualities and it was part of their charisma. According to the spiritual masters,
emptying one's self of ego and becoming a receptacle that reflects certain
hallmarks of Divinity actualizes this presence. These hallmarks include
peace, compassion, love, strength, constancy, support, patience, and
others. In other words, the task of those who minister is to become a
locus of Divine manifestation. I must emphasize here that this cannot be
learned through textual studies and a secular curriculum. To some extent
it is a reality inherent in the human condition and many can shine simply
by being real and true to themselves and those around them. But due to the
pollutants of many forces hostile and cynical to fulfilling one's true
human being, there is much work that needs to be done to allow the
authentic presence to shine through – so we are told by the prophets and
saints in the Islamic tradition. From the converse angle, we note that in
the Islamic tradition, serving and visiting the sick is a vehicle for
Divine Proximity for the visitor. There are numerous narratives that
explain this. In one account, during Judgment, God will ask some folks why
when He was hungry they did not offer food, or when He was thirsty, why
they did not provide drink, or when He was ill why they did not visit. The
response of course will be one of confusion as those spoken to will
respond, “Glory be to You, Lord of Reality – You are above such needs
and suffering!?!” The reply will be “Yes, but you were aware that my
servant here was hungry, and my servant there was thirsty, and my servant
over there was ill, and through serving them you would have found ME.”
Another narrative advises to look for Divinity amongst the meek, poor,
disenfranchised, and sick. We can conclude that for those who visit with
and minister to the ill with as much sincerity and presence as they can
muster, there is a reciprocal dynamic and exchange of Divine grace and
mercy through which both parties are hopefully transformed. It is never a
one-way street with caregivers, be they an MD, RN, nurse’s aid,
chaplain, or social worker. No matter how much they stumble, they tread
the path of saints and prophets. However, if not possessed by proper
attitudes, the situation may become downright disastrous, openly or
otherwise. Despite appearances, it is an enormous task – hence the
anguish, frustration, and burnout that exists side by side with epiphanies
of joy and accomplishment. The above discussion was an elaboration of
Islamic doctrine as it relates to the subject of care giving to the
critically ill. As mentioned earlier, these ideas resonate with other
faith traditions. Understanding these values and sympathizing with
patients who are attempting to actualize them can lead to a more
fulfilling and meaningful encounter for both caregiver and patient. With permission from the author. Published in 'The
Yale Journal for Humanities in Medicine'. June 14, 2002 Published in: The American Muslim' online
e-zine Jan-Feb 2003 issue |