2015 12 11 Sheikh Khalil Abdul Rashid

The Story of the People of the Cave: A Quranic Model for Protecting Our Youth

Allah is the Greatest. Allah is the Greatest. There is no god but Allah.

Allah is the Greatest. We ask Allah to protect our youth, protect our sons and our daughters, protect ourselves, our families from the various temptations and attractions and persecutions and traps of shaytan and the world. We, as a community, must reflect on the Quranic story of the preservation and the protection of kids.

And particularly, this is outlined in general form and with some detail in Surah Al-Kahf. Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala summarizes the story of these young men who were living during the time of this Roman emperor who decided to persecute all people in his area that did not adhere to the ideology that he espoused. And his ideology was that you must worship something else, practice in a different way, give up your freedom of religion and your freedom of practice — not to worship the Creator of the heavens — but to worship what I tell you to worship, to listen to the rhetoric and the ideas that I have.

And those who bought into his message of worldly success and worldly focus, those people were spared from persecution, those people were spared from prosecution, those people were spared from death and torture and investigation and condemnation and blame by that emperor. Those people who aspired to something higher, those people that had already tied their heart and their mind and their spirit to the true teachings and the true words of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala — who understood that this was not only the life but there was a life that was more important beyond this life — and refused his message, refused the message of the king, of the emperor, those people were hunted down, they were captured, and in the historical literature he would kill them, he would put them on the walls of the city and on the gates of the city for all to witness, make examples of some.

These young men witnessed these atrocities and in the literature, in the historical literature, it says that they were young men whose fathers were of influence in the city and their fathers had sent them to the emperor's palace for educational purposes and for training. And they saw what was happening and they knew that the emperor was wrong and they had a strong belief in Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. Their commitment to tawheed was not shaken and they knew that they had to leave.

And so they conspired amongst themselves one evening to reject the message of that emperor and in the process one of his spies caught them and brought them to the emperor. And in the presence of the emperor they held fast.

Steadfastness of Heart: Rabatna 'ala Qulubihim

They held fast. Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala said: We tied their hearts down like an anchor — didn't move. These young men who had made a decision to rebel and to flee, when they were brought in the presence of the tyrant, they did not waver. That was by the tawfiq of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala.

That part — إِذْ قَامُوا, idh qaamu — has multiple layers of meaning. One of which was idh qaamu: when they stood in the presence of the emperor, Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala strengthened their hearts. Another layer according to the mufassirun was that Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala strengthened their hearts and allowed them never to waver and to persist in the presence of the emperor in their faith just as they had persisted in secret. And that's where the word istiqama comes from.

Idh qaamu is a reference to the term istiqama — that they stood righteously and they didn't waver. They weren't one way in private and another way in public; they were the same. They weren't one way in the masjid and another way outside of the masjid; they were the same.

And the emperor had heard who they worshipped. He heard that their Rabb was Rabb al-samawati wal-ard and they would not associate any partners with Him. And what he did was something unusual — he let them go into the care of their fathers while he pondered their fate. Because they were sons of notable men in the city and he didn't want to disturb the balance. So he thought that he would let them go temporarily — in the custody of their fathers, they would be under house arrest — while he pondered and thought about their fate.

The Meaning of Fityatun: Youth, Generosity, and Chivalry

And it was in the custody of their fathers that they secretly one night packed their belongings. And they divided their belongings into two parts. One part — things that they would take with them because they knew they were going to flee, they were going to journey, they were going to leave. They had made up their mind. So a portion of their belongings they were going to take with them and the other portion they left for a friend of theirs to give as sadaqah.

Which is why Allah Ta'ala calls them in the Quran:

That they were young men — fit'iya. The Arabic word fatah means young men, but the Arabic word fatah also has a second meaning. And that second meaning means someone who is extremely kareem, extremely generous. And the fatah is the young man — not a teenager by the way, but a shab kamil, an adult young man who is under the age of 40, almost 40. A young man who is mature and who understands the virtue of chivalry and ithar — preferring to give to others. In other words, the generosity they show to the poor, to the masakeen, is also a reflection of their faith. And so they give so that Allah Ta'ala can give to them, and they're special. And that's why Allah Ta'ala calls them fit'iya as a group, the plural of fatah.

Fatah is very interesting because it also relates to the word in Arabic that we use for fatwa as well. Fatwa is related to that word also. And from it is the word fatiyan. Fatiyan means the change of night into day — that's fatiyan, night and day. And so fatwa also means a clarification: when something is dark, light is revealed. That's the fatwa that the mufti gives — the jurist that is trained in delineating falsehood from light. Because they've been taught as a young man, as a young lad, or in other cases as a young woman, they've been taught to distinguish falsehood from light. They've been taught ilm.

And as a young lad, they were dedicated to light, not darkness. And that's why they were fit'iyatun — young chivalrous people, who've been inspired by light to go through times of darkness and to hold fast and to be steadfast. And so that's what futuwwa is — youth, chivalry, courageousness, but from nur.

And that's what they were called in the Quran. Allah Ta'ala didn't call them shaab, young men, for example — shaab also means young man. He called them fit'iya — young inspired men who preferred generosity because they recognized al-Kareem, the gifts that were given to them by Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala.

So they packed their stuff, they divided their things in half — some to take with them and some to give as sadaqah. Look at that: even in their frantic notions of leaving, in their moment of haste when they're packing up to save their lives, they still think about akhira. They still think about giving for the sake of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. So they left some wealth behind for sadaqah.

And they crept out at night. They met at their meeting spot at the cave. On the way, there was a dog that followed them. For some reason the dog wouldn't leave. So them being fit'iya — generous young lads — they didn't shun away the dog; they embraced the dog. And they allowed the dog to accompany them. That's how the dog ends up in the Quranic narrative. And they reached the cave. And in the cave they prayed. And they waited for the plan of Allah Ta'ala.

And the man that stayed behind to take their goods and distribute them in sadaqah, he had a second responsibility. His responsibility was also to bring back some food for them. And to bring back any news about what had happened. So he was in the city giving sadaqah for them. And he took some of his own money to buy some food to bring back to them, because they didn't have a lot. And in the midst he finds out that the emperor calls their fathers to a meeting. And their fathers made up grand stories about their behavior, this and that and the other. And their fathers pledged allegiance to the emperor. And the emperor decides to hunt them down. And he runs and goes and conveys it to them. Long story short, Allah Ta'ala puts them to sleep. And the entrance to the cave is covered as a protection — and also later on as a sign. Allah Ta'ala narrates that story.

The Motif of the Cave in the Quran and Islamic History

And it's a story about the preservation of youth. It's a story that has a motif that shows up in other places in the Quran — the motif of the cave, leaving the city for a secluded place. The cave is present in the story of Musa (alayhi al-salam). It's also present in the story of the Prophet ﷺ — not once but twice: the Wahy, and when he fled ﷺ as well.

You go overseas and you look at the construction of some — not all — some of the ancient masajid. I came from the Maghrib a little while ago. I visited the Qarawiyyin madrasa there — over a thousand years old. The first madrasa in the history of Islam. Built by a woman. Her name is Fatima, I believe.

You enter the Qarawiyyin madrasa and the first thing that's striking is that it looks like a cave. As soon as you enter, it looks like a cave. The arches — there's just a huge musalla, but it's divided by arches. And each time you enter an arch, it's like you've entered into a corridor of a cave. It's completely white. Nothing on the walls, no writing on the walls. Made out of natural material. And you get the feeling like you're in a ghar — like you're in a cave.

And every time you sit down, although you're in a large space, it's designed in such a way that you feel secluded and private. Even when it's full, you don't feel it's full. You feel like you have moments of khalwah and privacy — to cultivate a deeper relationship with Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. You feel like you can love the world, and you can take refuge in this cave.

And on many different occasions when I was in the Maghrib, we ran into young men who in their own ways were fleeing from the world around them and finding their own cave — who were inspired by the path of futuwwa.

Stories of Modern Fityatun

I recounted one of these stories last night after Salatul 'Isha — about a young man on the streets who was homeless, but who had found company in the presence of people who were students of ilm. And had made a resolution after sitting with those people — made a resolution that he was not going to drink and not going to smoke. And he was going to find somebody of ilm and take the path of ilm. Although he was on the street. And the kid was crying when those people left. Crying.

We met another young student at the Qarawiyyin who was a convert. He had left a country in Europe and went to the Qarawiyyin seeking ilm. He fled the persecution of his family, because when he converted to Islam his family wasn't supportive — at all. So he left. He wanted to study. He went to the Qarawiyyin.

They told him: if you want to enter the Qarawiyyin, the first thing you have to do is memorize half of the Quran. He was a new convert. He could barely read Arabic. Memorize half of the Quran. Then you have to memorize a text in Islamic law and aqeedah called Matan Ibn Ashir — which is a poem on Islamic law and theology. You have to memorize that text. Then you have to memorize a grammar text called Al-Ajurrumiyya. That's the admissions requirement.

And the kid said, I'll do it. He could have said, oh my god, I'll never do that. It's too hard. I just became Muslim a year ago. I just came here — I need help. But he said no, I'll do it.

Wasn't moved by what the requirement was. I came to the cave to meet Allah. That's what I'm here for. No matter what the requirement is.

Allah ties the hearts.

We met another young man who was so humble — such a beautiful young man, in his teens. We invited him to dinner, and we were eating refreshments and appetizers. And then the meat came. He was a student of ilm also — a poor young man. So much haya. So much modesty.

When the meat came, there was a piece of meat for each of us. There were about 16 of us at the table. There was a piece of lamb — lamb shoulder for each person. Everyone ate except that young lad. He refused to eat. And one of the men at the table said, "Oh young man, eat. This is a gift. Eat." He said, "I cannot eat." The man said, "No, eat. We're all eating here. You're the only one who hasn't touched your lamb."

He said, "Ya sayyidi — oh my teacher, haza ta'am samiri. This lamb — we eat this in my family once a year. I can't eat this now. No, it's not the time to eat this. We eat this once a year at Eid. That's when we eat like this. I cannot."

His brother was there — his younger brother who was at a different level. He said, "I'll take your piece for you." But the young man who was at a different maqam, a different level, said, "I cannot eat. Forgive me, I cannot. How can I eat when my father is not here? My mother is not here. And it's not Eid yet." And he stepped back. He didn't eat. And he sat while everyone else ate. Kid is 16 or 17.

Look at the haya. Look at the futuwwa. Kareem. That's generous — kareem. Not going to self-indulge. But understanding that we don't just eat because things are put in front of us. How can we have delight when his mother and his father and his family are not there to enjoy that? And the time for enjoying that — the Eid time — is not there yet. He was of a different status.

Where Are Our Caves? The Crisis of Modern Muslim Youth

There are these moments that are in the Muslim world. There are some kids that are still Ashab al-Kahf — kids of the cave in many ways — because they come from places in the Muslim world that still inherit that legacy and that teaching of the Prophet ﷺ. That value of returning to the cave. Even when there is no physical cave to return to. But the values that are taught in the home, the values that are taught by the ulema, the values that the family bring — those are values of the cave. Values of fleeing the materialistic, paganistic, desire-driven pulls of the city, for a more preferable, long-term view of what's important in the akhira. Not just dunya.

Now let's turn to this country. How many fityah do we have? Forget that — where are our caves? Where are our cave values institutionally? Taught by our teachers, our leaders, our institutions that extend from the masjid?

The caves of some of our kids, if you ask them, are the internet, the TV, social media. And yes, it's a dark place. That's where they seek refuge. They seek refuge from school, bullying, stress, trauma, boredom. That's where they're taught to flee to. If they're impoverished and poor and they can't afford those things, then they flee the inside of the home for the outside of the home. And the cave for those poor kids in South Dallas, for example, are the street corners, basketball courts, gang mentalities — the gangs. Those are the cave centers.

A Weekend of Refuge: Community Opportunities

This weekend, we have an entire weekend full of opportunities for us as a community to reinvigorate and to reform and to build proper cave refuges for our youth. This Saturday we have a program for Masjid al-Islam to build a center that will be a refuge for poor youth — Muslim and non-Muslim — a place where they can go. This Sunday, we have a program by one of our schools, Goodtree, to build the first Muslim high school, which will be a refuge for our Muslim kids who cannot or don't want to go to other schools. We have a weekend of refuge.

We have kids that are calling out for help, for assistance. We've got an environment that calls them towards certain pressures that are not conducive for them. And the reality is that regardless of our affiliations and our lineage and things of that nature, when it comes to the next generation and the importance of this, we have to rally together — because no one else will. We have to come together and support each other when it comes to projects that deal with the education of our youth, the protection of our youth, the uplifting of our youth, the moral maturing of our youth — to teach them proper values, to provide an alternative place for them to go, to provide an alternative environment for them to thrive.

We have efforts at building elementary schools, efforts at building daycare centers in the call and counsel community. All of those efforts — all of them — require our help. And it's time that we as Masajid support those activities. That we as Musallis understand that our children need refuge centers. That's why people fleeing from war zones are called refugees — they're looking for help.

Lessons from the Prophetic Caves

When you go to Hajj and Umrah and you tour the sites, one of the standard places to tour is the cave — Ghar Thawr, Ghar Hira. You go to that place, you see where Rasulullah ﷺ sat. And you say, how did he ﷺ stay there? You go visit the place for Ashab al-Kahf in Ephesus, in Turkey. You go look at that and say, subhanAllah — look at this place, how simple it is. You look at one of the caves that Sayyidina Ibrahim (alayhi al-salam) used to frequent, in the mountains of Damascus. We used to visit that place in the 90s with different teachers — way up in the mountains in Damascus. Tiny place. And you say, subhanAllah, what is it about these places?

The Anbiya — ridwanAllahi ta'ala alayhim ajma'een — they didn't just go outside their homes and go for a walk. They went to the top of the mountain, away from everything, in an extremely secluded place. And they frequented those places.

Today, we can't send our kids to the mountain — but we can cut the TV off. We can turn off the internet. We can tell them to disconnect. We can teach them the value of silence. Instead of chatting all the time, texting all the time, talking all the time, going around people that are not good for them all the time — the importance of socialization and isolation. That's what we lack now. Everything is about socialization.

But the way of the Anbiya, the way of the Saleheen, the way of futuwwa — those paths, those beautiful gems are cultivated through isolation, not through socialization. And there comes a time where, in order to train our children in what is best for them, we have to teach them to disconnect from the world. To turn things off. To turn off external forms of light so that internal forms of light can be cultivated. To stop listening to the chatter on the outside so that they can develop inner reflection and inner discourse with Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala — inner du'a with Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala on the inside. That's what we have to do.

And our institutions that claim to teach kids have to be like that. Otherwise, they're the same institutions as non-Muslim institutions, though the name "Muslim" is there. And you're just paying to have your child indoctrinated with the same thing — only the child is wearing hijab, but the outcome is the same. Muslim means to be different. We cultivate an inner life, not just an outer life. That's futuwwa. That's courageousness. That's the way of the Anbiya. And if we don't cultivate an inner life, we and our kids won't desire akhira. Because we'll only be people of the external. And people of the external are people of idols. And people of idols are destined not to be people of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala.

Du'a and Closing

May Allah Ta'ala protect us. May Allah Ta'ala inspire us. May Allah Ta'ala through our institutions allow us to reform ourselves, and through that reform our children. May Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala correct all of our errors. And unite all of us in the path of goodness, in the path of what He loves. And resurrect us together under the banner of La ilaha illa Allah, Muhammadur Rasulullah.

Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillahi rabbil 'alamin. Wa salatu wa salamu 'ala Sayyidina Muhammad wa 'ala alihi wa sahbihi ajma'een.

I advise you and I advise myself with the taqwa of Allah. Allah Ta'ala says:

'Ibadallah. Fear Allah. Verily Allah commands justice, kindness, and giving to kinsfolk, and He forbids indecency and wrongdoing and oppression. He admonishes you so that you may take heed.

Establish the prayer.