Footprints in the Sand: Lessons from the Pious | Muftī Azeemuddin Ahmed | 03/19

Opening Supplications

In the name of Allah, the most merciful, the most compassionate. O Allah, send blessings and peace upon our Master Muhammad and his family. O Allah, open my heart, ease my affairs, and free my tongue from my bondage, so that it may understand my speech.

Glory be to You, O Allah, we have no knowledge except what You have taught us. You are the All-Knowing, the All-Wise.

O Allah, teach us what benefits us, and benefit us with what You have taught us, and increase us in knowledge and in deeds. O Allah, O Wahhab, O Fattah — O Allah, O Wahhab, O Fattah — O Allah, O Wahhab, O Fattah.

Today is our final session here on The Fathers and Sons of the Ummah by Shaykh Muhammad al-Zakariyya al-Kandhlawi, a beautiful book that we have been blessed to be reading portions of. Yesterday we started the final section on taqwa — the trait of taqwa that we're supposed to be gaining through fasting. And this is the trait that all the mashayikh had. We're hoping Allah allows us to gain the level of taqwa that would be sufficient to keep us protected from the anger of Allah and the fire of Jahannam.

Stories of Taqwa from the Pious Predecessors

Mawlana Mazhar Nānautwī — Accounting for Every Minute

It was the habit of Hazrat Mawlana Mazhar, the first dean of Madāhir ul-Uloom, Saharanpur, to make a note of the time he started talking to any of his personal guests who came during madrasa hours. Once they left, he would make a note of the time again and jotted down the date and the total time spent with the guest in his journal.

At the end of the month, he added it all up. And if the total time was less than a day, he let the administration know that he had taken half a day off. And if it was more, he would let them know a whole day was taken off from the madrasa. And accordingly, they deducted the pay from his monthly salary.

Though if someone came seeking a fatwa, he would not note that down. But while in the madrasa, if any personal guest came to speak to him — subhanAllah — he would note that down. How many minutes, how many seconds did I, while in the madrasa, spend speaking to a personal guest?

Mawlana Ahmed Ali — Precision in Madrasa Accounts

Hazrat Mawlana Ahmed Ali, the commentator of Bukhari, lived and taught hadith in Calcutta. But when he came to his hometown of Saharanpur on breaks, he would teach in Saharanpur as well. Once he came to the madrasa when Madrasa Qadeem was under construction; he immediately packed his bags for Calcutta to collect donations for the madrasa.

I saw the ledger on which he had done his math of the expenses of the trip. His calculations were precise — he missed nothing, even the cards and envelopes that he purchased on the way. At the end of the ledger, he writes: "I went to such-and-such place to meet a friend. Though I was able to collect more than was expected, I had not gone with that intention. So please deduct the expense of that trip from the total amount."

The idea is that even though he was going on official madrasa business, and he went to a location where he ended up meeting someone who said, "Oh, you came from Madāhir ul-Uloom? Bismillah, here, take this" — but when he went to that place, he had gone to perhaps fetch some milk or meet a relative. So although the donation came in for the madrasa — more than from other trips — since the explicit intention was not made for that, alhamdulillah, he would deduct that expense of that trip.

A Lesson from an Ordinary Man — Taqwa is for Everyone

It reminds me — you see, these are stories of ulama. I want us to understand that taqwa is to be found in everybody. One of our friends mentioned his father, who was working in the fisheries department in India. He had a government job, a government driver, a government car.

He says: I still remember my father — even though he had a government car and a driver available at his disposal when traveling to different states, whenever he, after hours, needed to take care of anything personal, he would himself hire a rickshaw or some other conveyance, hire a taxi, a very cheap taxi, and go take care of his needs. He would never use the government-issued car and the government-issued driver for his personal needs.

This person is not a scholar. And it's not the money of the madrasa — it's the money of the government. But subhanAllah, that's what taqwa is. Taqwa is not specific to people of the masjid, or ulama, or imams. Taqwa is for all of us. And it's not only to do with the money of the deen or the masjid — it has to do with the money of anyone. If I've been given a responsibility, I want to make sure I fulfill it, and I am not becoming a burden on anybody.

When we read stories like this, we realize how far we are from where we need to be — where I need to be. What an amazing thing taqwa is, and we're completely far away from that.

Mawlana Khalil Ahmad Saharanpūrī — Refusing an Unearned Salary

When Mawlana Khalil Ahmad Saharanpūrī returned from his one-year stay in Madina Munawwara in 1915–1916, corresponding to 1334 Hijri, he refused to take a salary and said that he was too weak and frail to fulfill his duties. He explained that while he was absent in Hijaz, Mawlana Yahya Khandhlawi — the father of Mawlana Zakariyya — substituted for him and refused any salary for the duration of his teaching in Saharanpur.

He said: Mawlana Yahya Khandhlawi would teach in my place and took my duties as his own. And both of us together did the work of more than a single teacher. But now that he has passed away and I can no longer continue teaching, I excuse myself from accepting any salary.

But Mawlana Abdul Rahim Raipuri and Mawlana Ashraf Ali Thānwī, both senior board members of the madrasa, pressured him to accept the position of administrator and insisted that the staff would work optimally under his guidance. In addition, he could continue teaching without pay, if his health allows. Mawlana Khalil Ahmad Saharanpūrī accepted the offer on the basis that he did not have the capacity to teach, so he would take on the administrative role instead, without the burden of hours of preparation.

I have never seen it for myself, but was told by a reliable source: when a guest came to meet him, he would immediately step off the rug — the rug of the madrasa. When asked about it, he said: "The madrasa has only laid out the rug for the teacher to teach on. We have no right to make personal use of it." I'm sitting on a rug speaking to somebody — I should be sitting on the rug only to teach. And right now, I'm not teaching. So I'm going to get off the rug.

I never saw Hazrat sit on a madrasa-owned chārpāī. He always sat on the three or four chārpāīs he kept for this purpose in the madrasa — his own chārpāīs, his own beds. Before the annual jalsa and convocation, Hazrat and all the other teaching staff devoted the whole day in the madrasa to prepare for the jalsa. But none of them ate from the madrasa. They never ate from the madrasa's dinner. They always ordered food from home. And whenever they got time, they retired to one corner to have their meal — opened up their little tiffin and ate. This food is for the students. A lot of it is coming from zakat money. And at the end of the day, whoever even donated, they donated for the sake of the madrasa students. So how do I eat this?

Mawlana Inayat Ali — Two Ink Pots

On numerous occasions, I saw the principal Mawlana Inayat Ali keep two ink stands in his office — two ink pots. One of his own and the other one for the madrasa. If he wanted to dispatch a message to his family, he wrote it on his own paper with his own pen.

Likewise, Mawlana Zuhurul Haqq, who was in charge of cooking for the guests, never even taste-tested the food to see if it had enough salt. He called a student or one of the guests to taste it — lest I take one tiny quarter-spoon amount that is meant for the students.

Every single letter he's writing has got two different pens, two different ink pots, and two different notepads. This is not a bygone era of 1,100, 1,200, or 1,500 years ago. We're speaking about 100, 120 years ago. This level of taqwa, subhanAllah, was present in our mashayikh.

Mawlana Munīr Nānautwī — Selling His Land for the Madrasa

Once Mawlana Munīr Nānautwī, the principal of Darul Uloom Deoband, went to Delhi to publish the annual report of the madrasa with 250 rupees from the madrasa funds. Somehow the money was stolen, but he never let anyone know what happened. He went home, sold his land, collected the payment, and used it to print the annual report.

The madrasa board found out sometime later. They wrote to Mawlana Rashid Ahmad Gangohī about it, because they could not confront him directly. You know — anytime I'm corrected, anytime you're corrected, look how we flare up. "Really? You doubt me? You think I'm stealing? You think I'm doing this?" The nafs reacts. But the deal should be: I'd rather be corrected and feel remorse or shame in front of you than face what comes after. That is our nafs — "How dare you doubt me?" — but these men were different.

They knew that if they told him directly, he would not listen. So now they had to get a fatwa from a higher body to convince him. We look for fatwas to bail ourselves out. They would look for fatwas to convince someone else that you're overdoing it. You see the difference? I go find a fatwa that makes it easy for me to wiggle my way out and take more and give less. But these men — how do we convince him to accept what is rightfully his?

When tarbiyah is not made, then no matter how many years you study or where you study, a person drifts. Tarbiyah is a continuous realignment — like the alignment of the axle and wheels of a vehicle, it has to be done consistently and continuously. We are never above tarbiyah. Never. Just as some of our mashayikh would say: I would never want to die in a state where I don't have a shaykh above me. Even if my shaykh passed away, I need to find another shaykh. It shouldn't happen that I pass away and meet Allah without a mentor.

So when tarbiyah is not made, a person may become a scholar, may be teaching, may do all sorts of things — but this trap opens up. How do you milk the system? How do you work less and get paid more? Instead, subhanAllah, we have to have the mentality: this is what I get paid for, and now that's even.

A Scholar's Advice — Barakah Comes with Firm Resolve

One scholar gave us advice when we were leaving India on our Nizamuddin trip. An 'ālim told him: make niyyah that we get barakah in our time. Because he was saying we should go in the path of Allah — we should go in khurūj. But I'm an ustādh of a madrasa, I'm an imam of a huge masjid — I've got so much on my plate. I understand after spending a few days here in the markaz that I should really go out in the effort of da'wah and tabligh, for myself and for the benefit of the people.

So he just told him: make du'a for barakah in time. The response came immediately: Barakah will come when you make firm resolve. Barakah doesn't come with cheap talk. Talk is cheap. If someone asks you, would you like to donate? And you say, "Brother, make du'a for barakah in my income" — that's not the answer. Instead, a person says: right now I've got one dollar. That's it. Now I'll give one dollar, and you make du'a that Allah gives me so much that I can give a hundred. But to say, "No brother, just make du'a for barakah" — that doesn't make sense. The proof is in the pudding. What are you doing with what you have right now?

Same thing: you don't have time to go out for four months, you don't have time to go for 40 days. But brother — you can sit and speak to one brother in the back who just came in. You're leaving, but some new brother is walking into the masjid. Why can't you welcome him? Speak to him. Maybe he doesn't know how to do wudu. Maybe it's the first time he's in the masjid.

Then he told that scholar — who was doing a lot of good work, honestly — but the advice was to me, and imagine the rest of us sitting here. He said: brother, the work that you're doing — you're spending 12 hours in the masjid teaching, leading salah, answering fatwa, teaching students, teaching community members, lecturing — he said, ask yourself: if you did not get paid a single cent for this, would you continue? If someone said, for one year no pay, two years no pay, three years no pay — we ran out of money, or we don't value you — would you literally spend 12 hours in the masjid?

You and I know the answer. "Brother, from where will I eat, from where will I drink?" He said — stop right there. The fact that you're getting paid for it, and you need it — rightfully so — and the community and the organizers must pay you — then Allah Azza wa Jalla can simply tell you: the work you did was simply to get a paycheck, to earn halal rizq for your wife and kids. That's fine. You're completely allowed to do that. But let's not use that as an excuse to say, "I don't have time to go in dinī efforts. I don't have time to go to the khānqah. I don't have time to go in the effort of da'wah and tabligh. I don't have time to do humanitarian work."

He said: brother, even if you just get ajr and reward for the dīnī khidmah you're doing, you're lucky — because right now you're getting paid for it. Even if you just get ajr for it, it's a big thing.

My friends, think about everyone else. When we're not involved in the masjid, not doing dīnī khidmah, and we say, "SubhanAllah, I was working very hard" — yes, you worked very hard. You brought your rizq home. That's good. But we didn't send you in this dunya just to feed your wife and your kids. There was so much more responsibility. The deen was screaming: come and help me. Who's there to assist? Who's there to help and teach? Who's there to do the work?

The Vast Field of Work Before Us

Everywhere there is so much, so much need. You know how many people who work in Muslim prison outreach have reached out to me — chaplains — there are barely any chaplains. They said we have so many youth. We received an email yesterday from a juvenile prison. They said: we have all these youth who are Muslim, and even non-Muslim too, but they need God in their life. They need someone. Can you please help? Can you please welcome them to your community center, your mosque? I'd like to bring some of them — with security, with police — can you send some people to us? You don't need to be a scholar for this. Anyone sitting here can get credentialed and go to a prison or a jail and meet them. And what will happen to your heart when you see what's going on? Our own Muslim boys, girls, subhanAllah, and many others — sitting there. We can go teach them the deen.

There was one of the largest naval recruitment centers — I met the chaplain officer there. He said: we need an imam. Sixteen thousand — some massive number of — navy recruits come every six or eight weeks. You have Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, and other representatives. He said: this is their time to learn and connect. We need a Muslim representative. A Christian is telling me: we need a Muslim representative, because we have so many Muslim navy recruits coming for their boot camp, and it would help for them to have God in their life. SubhanAllah.

My point is, the amount of work that we have upon us besides our jobs is so much. So much work. Every masjid needs multiple outreach people — one dedicated to reaching out to the boys, one to the girls, one to the non-Muslims, one to the seniors.

The Crisis Among Our Seniors

Did you notice how few seniors you see in I'tikāf? The room would be filled, everyone fighting for a spot. There's so much space this year. What happened? I don't know, but I'm just trying to say — there might be a lot of seniors who need, just like young people need a push, a lot of old people are falling into depression. A lot of old people. I have young men reach out to me: "My dad never missed a salah in the front row — now he doesn't go for Jumu'ah. What do I do?"

It is not only the children who are leaving the fold of Islam. It is not only the youth. Honestly, it's adults too — I won't say leaving the fold of Islam, hopefully not — but they are under the influence of Shaitan. Because of one big thing: the phone. The phone doesn't differentiate between 17 and 70. It doesn't differentiate between male and female. It finishes everyone.

So at this age — old age, subhanAllah — marital relations maybe non-existent, maybe a spouse has died, and you have a phone. How is a person going to make it out to the masjid? This is the reality. We rarely speak about it. So our parents and elders at home need to be taken care of the way the kids are taken care of — not only being fed, but also making sure the internet is locked down, the phones are locked down. Basic intelligence will understand what I'm saying. This is the era of fitnah.

Otherwise, there would be no empty spots. All the seniors would be coming on a Friday in Ramadan — Jumu'atul Widā' — three hours before Jumu'ah, everyone there reading Qur'an. Where is that scene today in America? Where do you see three hours before, two hours before, subhanAllah, seniors populating the sufūf of the masjid? Have the seniors all passed away? No. They're either running after materialism, or running after shahawāt at this age. So there needs to be outreach for that as well — not just "brother, come to the masjid," but addressing spiritual needs, emotional needs. There's so much loneliness. So much loneliness that our seniors are suffering from. They have nobody to just talk to them.

There are organizations — non-Muslim organizations — working on this. They're trying to find mentors for young men and women, and seniors who want a mentee, because there's no one. They're alone. And who are they? CFO, CEO, founder of a big company. Started all of this. And now they're sitting at home, no one to talk to, no one to share this knowledge with. And you have a 21-year-old young guy aspiring — wishing he had a mentor to teach him. So there's an organization that sets these up. You meet up at a park, for lunch. And the young people appreciate the amazing knowledge they're getting from the elderly. And the old people say, "It's like I have a son in my life now. I had nobody before."

My point is: in America, we are suffering hugely in terms of loneliness. The young are suffering, the old are suffering. So my dear brothers and sisters, as we come to the end of Ramadan — a painful, painful day for us — I want us to start on a new note. Say: I'm going to do something besides my 8-to-4 job.

Please understand — the work is so much that one imam, one director cannot do this. Especially when most masājid do not even have a full-time imam. Each masjid actually should have four to five full-time people — not office staff, but people who are taking care of the spiritual needs of the different sections of the community. You need someone to focus on refugees. Kām kitnā hai? There is so much.

What broke my heart and breaks my heart till today — the reason we can't vote, the reason we can't donate the way we should, the reason we cannot help pass food to the needy, the reason we have a hard time finding volunteers to clean up — it's all the same thing. All of these are symptoms of one big problem: we are worshipping our nafs and our nafs's desires. And hence that has created this level of apathy that a person says, "I don't have time for anything else."

If a person submits himself to Allah, he'll have time to vote, he'll have time to cut his neighbor's lawn, he'll have time to drop off groceries for his old neighbor, he'll have time to take care of his mother and father's house, he'll have time to feed his wife and kids, he'll have time to read three juz of the Qur'an. Yes. All of it we can do — civic work, masjid work, da'wah work, our jaulā as well, everything. But a person has to say: I've got limited time in my life.

Like our elder — my father, hafidhahullah — says: peace comes in when you work hard today. So all of us can make this niyyah: that these elders, this level of taqwa that they had, and the effort that they put — it is the fruits of their trees that we are eating from today. If they had just said, "My wife, my kids, my job" — and even with the kids, no tarbiyah, just dropping them off at school and picking them up from piano practice — that doesn't get us anywhere. The tarbiyah of the children is the key thing.

Back to the Story — Mawlana Rashid Ahmad Gangohī's Fatwa

So they wrote to Mawlana Rashid Ahmad Gangohī. The 250 rupees were stolen. This man, Mawlana Munīr, had gone and sold his land. What should we do now? He replied: the Mawlana Sahib was a trustee, and the funds were lost without malicious intent. Therefore he is not liable to repay the madrasa for anything.

There is a difference between a loan — qardh — and an amānah. For example, I give you an amānah: here is a thousand dollars — go and drop it off somewhere. In the process, someone steals it from you unintentionally. According to the books of fiqh, the person entrusted with something, if he did not negligently lose it — if someone stole it from him without his fault — he is not responsible for it.

The Story of Qārī Siddīq Bandawī — Allah Protects Zakat Money

It reminds me of a story of Qārī Siddīq Bandawī. Qārī Siddīq Bandawī, rahimahullah, was a great walī of Allah — a very great walī. He was the ustādh of Mawlana Aziz Ahmad Sahib as well. He was a well-known walī of Allah Azza wa Jalla in the Indo-Pak subcontinent, from Banda.

Alhamdulillah, through the barakah of Mawlana Aziz, my three siblings — my two brothers and myself — we all went to Banda in 1992 or 1993. And Qārī Siddīq Sahib performed our dastar-bandī — after our graduation, we went there, and he tied our turbans. That was an amazing journey when we were kids.

Qārī Siddīq Bandawī's story: he was coming back from a zakat collection for the madrasa — just as I stood up yesterday and collected zakat for our students. In Indo-Pak, when Ramadan arrives, it is normal that the teachers, the Shaykh ul-Hadith, the principal, everyone goes out — masjid to masjid, musallā to musallā — fundraising for the students for the rest of the year. All levels go on these trips. Even senior mashayikh were sent sometimes. And we still have mashayikh from overseas come here for this purpose.

Qārī Siddīq Bandawī had collected the zakat money in cash. He came back, and at that time — even when I visited in '92 or '93, it was a very small town — imagine 30 years before that. The train station to the madrasa was very far. So Qārī Siddīq is walking from the train station. He was dropped off at 12 or 1 o'clock at night. He's walking to the madrasa. And some highway robbers stopped him.

They said: "Hey bhai, kyā hai? What have you got?" He said: "Bhai, jaane do. Let me go, please." They said: "No, no — we're not letting you go without knowing what you've got in your pocket." He insisted upon them — please don't bother him. They kept pressing him. And he said:

"Bhai, yeh merā paisā nahīn hai. Agar merā paisā hotā toh āpko de detā. Yeh madrasah ke talabā ke liye zakāt kī raqam hai." — "Brother, this is not my money. If it were mine, I'd give it to you. This is zakat money for the students of the madrasa. I cannot give you something that is not mine."

He took the cash and dumped it right there. He said: "Jāo — dekhte hain kitnā door jāte ho." "Go — we'll see how far you get." And he walked alone back to the madrasa. He engaged in his Tahajjud, rested, got up for Fajr. After Fajr, someone came from the village and said: "Hazrat, kuch masla ho gayā hai — there is a problem." He said: "What happened?" He said: "There's a couple of people, they're screaming in the middle of the road, and they're saying — go to the madrasa, find that Bābājī, ask him for forgiveness." They said: "What happened?" He said: "These people, in the middle of the road, are stuck. They cannot move. It's as though there are invisible chains on them — hil nahīn sak rahe — they're not able to move. They're begging for help and saying please forgive them. And they're ready to return the money."

Hazrat Qārī Sahib said: "I told them — I told them, bhai, you won't be able to go anywhere. If it was my money, I'd have given it to you. This is madrasa money — the zakat money of the students. Allah has taken responsibility for it. You will not be able to touch this zakat money."

SubhanAllah. You hear this? He's not saying: I am a big shaykh, I am sāhibul-karāmāt. He's saying: this is poor people's children's money — you dare not touch this; Allah will come after you.

And that is where you learn from the hadith: the one who gives zakat — what does Allah do to his wealth? Allah protects it. So many times, when a person is facing financial losses, you have to ask: did I calculate my zakat properly? When someone says, "I'm losing money" — what is the solution? Keep on giving. This is the system by which Allah works. If you're losing money, going down — whatever you do — cancel your cable subscription. Cancel Netflix. Cancel all this other nonsense. But do not cancel your sadaqah. This is the maqsad of Shaitan — to say, this is the first thing to cut. No. Sadaqah should be the last thing we ever cut. Never cut it.

Mawlana Munīr's Response to the Fatwa — Taqwa Over Fatwa

Now, back to the story. The madrasa presented Mawlana Munīr with Mawlana Gangohī's fatwa, requesting him to accept the reimbursement. He skimmed through the fatwa and said: "Did Miān Rashid Ahmad learn fiqh for me, or do the rulings of Islam apply only to me? Tell him to put his hand over his heart. Be honest. And ask him what he would have done had he been in the same situation. Take away this fatwa from me now. I will not take a penny."

Kyā log hain yār. He said: not only will I not take the fatwa — mujhe taqwā pe chalnā hai, fatwā pe nahīn chalnā hai — I have to walk upon taqwa, not upon fatwa. Take this fatwa away. And he said: I know that if you were in the same situation, you would not have taken the money from the madrasa. Why do you expect me to take it?

My brothers and sisters, it is important for us to read these stories. For us to realize: we make lots of shukr for what we have achieved, but wallahi we are not even one inch of where we need to go. We have a long, long, long way to go.

Hazrat Shāh Abdul Rahīm — The Weight of Madrasa Administration

One of Hazrat Shāh Abdul Rahīm's famous and often-related quotes was: "Nothing scares me as much as administration over a madrasa." If an employee falls short in his work or brings any harm to the business, he may seek forgiveness from the owner before reassigning from the job or even on his deathbed. But the funds of the madrasa are the donations collected from the poor and the laborers. We board members are only trustees, not owners of the funds. Our forgiving anyone for the misuse of the funds of the madrasa means nothing, since we have no authority to forgive for something that is not even ours.

This much can be said: if we were to overlook a mistake out of some greater benefit for the madrasa, then we can be hopeful that Allah too will pardon our shortcomings in our administration. But if we look the other way out of personal connections with the abuser, then we are accomplices to the crime. The perpetrator will not be forgiven in any case, because it is a matter of huqūq ul-ibād. And the donors are so numerous that there is no way forgiveness can be sought from all of them.

The Example of Sayyidunā 'Umar

This reminds us of Abu Bakr Siddīq, radiAllahu anhu, and 'Umar, radiAllahu anhu. When 'Umar is being told: "O 'Umar, you're dying — but don't worry, inshAllah, you're going to the highest levels of Jannah. The Prophet, sallAllahu alayhi wa sallam, himself said: if there would be a Prophet after me, it would be 'Umar." What's the response of 'Umar?

'Umar, radiAllahu anhu, says: listen — if one dog dies thirsty in one-third of the populated world that I rule, I am afraid I will be held accountable for that. You're telling me this hadith and that hadith? How did a dog die thirsty while 'Umar was Khalīfah? Forget about a human being dying — astaghfirullah — even a dog dying thirsty: why did you not take care of the dogs? And so he said: I am so worried.

Then he said: I wish I could switch all my good deeds and give them to Abu Bakr, and take from Abu Bakr even one day from him. I wish Abu Bakr could gift me the night of Hijrah with the Prophet, sallAllahu alayhi wa sallam — in the cave, going up to the cave and coming out of the cave. And the day when he ascended the minbar and said:

"Whoever is worshipping Muhammad, sallAllahu alayhi wa sallam, he should know that his prophet has died. And whoever is worshipping Allah — then indeed Allah is ever-living and shall never perish." That day and that night of Hijrah — I would be willing to give up all my good deeds for that.

And then he said to 'Abdullah ibn 'Umar, his son: put my head on the ground — let me rub my cheeks on the sand to get the pity of Allah. And then he spoke to himself, saying:

"You are destroyed, O 'Umar — if Allah simply does not forgive you." Forget about big rewards — if Allah doesn't forgive you, 'Umar, you're done. And then he said: I just hope and wish that I come out equal — barābar. I hope I can just come out even. I don't need to come out very ahead. I just hope I am able to save my skin and get into paradise.

What I'm trying to tell us is: that's what you call taqwa. For all of us — those working in a non-profit sector, a madrasa or masjid, or for that matter any other organization — after hearing this advice, whenever we give sadaqah, make sure we give sadaqah with this niyyah: "Ya Allah, if I have used the phone charger" — the ulama say this, subhanAllah — even using the phone charger of a masjid for personal use, if the people paying the electricity and the one who established the masjid intended that personal needs can be fulfilled, that is a different thing. But if someone says, "No — I'm paying the electric bill just for salah, in and out," then I'm in trouble. We don't know. That is why it's best that every time we give sadaqah, we do so with this niyyah:

"Ya Allah, if I have used any aspect of the masjid, the madrasa, the non-profit I'm working with or volunteering for — any thing — for my personal manner, for something not acceptable to the donors, not acceptable to the wāqif — then, Ya Allah, at the very least, allow this sadaqah to become a means of forgiveness for that." Always give above and beyond. Always.

It's like someone who missed their prayer and made qadhā. Does it mean Allah has to forgive us? But we hope Allah will forgive us. Similarly, if we pay for it in sadaqah, does it mean Allah will definitely forgive us? But we hope Allah will forgive us. May Allah grant us this taqwa.

Recommended Readings

This is the book again — The Fathers and Sons of the Ummah — that we're reading. These types of books are invaluable. I'll give you another one: Āp Bītī — the autobiography of Shaykh Zakariyya al-Kandhlawi. It's available in English. Go afterwards, inshAllah, downstairs. Brother Grant is in the back — make du'a for him — mashaAllah, what an amazing asset to the madrasa, alhamdulillah.

And mashaAllah, all the other brothers, our staff — they say, what are the books that I can use that have stories? These are boys and girls at home, and our spouses need to hear these stories. I've also been asking you to read Fadhāil ul-Sadaqāt — the Fadhāil ul-Sadaqāt of Shaykh Zakariyya al-Kandhlawi. It's available on PDF, alhamdulillah.

Announcements

Salah Buddy System

We are coming up with a Salah Buddy System. All of you who live wherever you live, please scan the code. We want to make sure that after Ramadan — you've heard enough talks, I don't need to repeat this — in order to stay connected with the deen on the path after Ramadan, we need to have an accountability buddy. Even Alcoholics Anonymous — how does it work? You have a sponsor. Even a person who is struggling, through the process of having a sponsor, you're able to get out of this mess. So look at this system here.

I want all of you — if you're from Cleveland, you can start this in Cleveland. And you take this thing and say: inshAllah, we're gonna work in Cleveland. Whoever is sitting here from wherever — let us start. Whether you're from Chicago, from Bridgeview, from Skokie, from the Dār us-Salām area, from somewhere else — let's build a database. And inshAllah, start working neighborhood by neighborhood, street by street. Most of us don't even know the names of our neighbors. This will at least get rid of that. And we'll have Fajr buddies.

Volunteers Needed

Number two: we need volunteers. As I said — outreach volunteers to all sorts of people: the seniors, the juniors, Muslims, young Muslims, women. Doing khidmat ul-Jumu'ah — preparing this masjid every Friday, including tomorrow. Helping out for Eid tomorrow with whatever is required. This masjid is bustling, alhamdulillah — not only in Ramadan but outside Ramadan. We have a huge lack of volunteers right now. We need fresh brothers and sisters to join.

If you're motivated and you say, "How do I stay connected?" — the best way, from everyone's experience and my experience, is to take on a responsibility, join a volunteer group. That becomes your crew. That is why we're saying: become a volunteer, join a team — whether it's a serving team for Fajr, or Tuesday nights, or Monday nights. Parking needs volunteers — new volunteers — alhamdulillah. We need a continuous flow of people in all departments. If you're wondering how to stay connected to the masjid — that's because we maybe didn't choose to volunteer for something.

And the most important thing to stay connected: be consistent for Fajr and Isha. Fajr and Isha. That's what we're saying, inshAllah.

Eid al-Fitr Announcement

And then one final announcement: Eid Mubārak, alhamdulillah! The moon was sighted in New York. Eid ul-Fitr, inshAllah, will be tomorrow — 1st of Shawwal, 1447 — tomorrow.

So officially, life will become much harder in the next few minutes as the adhān is called — back to what it was before. So you better be ready when the shayāteen come back. With the will of Allah, we will say: Ya Allah, this Shaitan is Your makhlūq, Your creation — keep me protected from the nafs and from Shaitan as well afterwards, inshAllah.

Brothers, inshAllah, we can make our way downstairs for a final iftār.