"Those acquainted with the Hebrew Bibles and the Christian Gospels will meet many familiar figures in the Quran. Adam, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, Isaac, Mary, John the Baptist, Jesus, and many other prophets and righteous guides appear throughout the Quran. Christians and Jews think of these men and women as 'Biblical" figures, and it can be jarring to them to read their stories, which sometimes differ from those in the Bibles, in the Quran.
What is important to understand is that the Biblical stories themselves drew upon a much older and oral tradition that did not disappear when the various books the Bible were written. The pre-Islamic Arabs, for example, were well aware that they were descendants of Abraham through his son Ismail (Ishmael) and his mother, Hajar (Hagar). Further, the history of the prophets was known not just through written and oral literature, but through the existence of holy sites throughout the Arabian peninsula and the Near East. The burial place of Abraham, the baptism site of Jesus, Mt. Sinai, Jerusalem, and the Kabah in Makkah - all these sites and many others served as epicenters of religious education and formation, often across parochial boundaries."
Ingrid Mattson, "How to Read the Quran," in Seyyed Nasr, The Study Quran, p. 1594
I've referenced Mattson's elegant essay before, and it's inevitably the first document that I assign to my students in any version of my Dar al-Islam class. I mean, we know these facts, but it can still be jarring the first time that you read the Quran. And if you don't know anything about Islam at all, especially if you've been raised in a tradition that is dismissive of Islam (if not outright Islamophobic) then it can seem a lot worse: that Muslims are conscripting, if not actively stealing, your religious figures for their, doubtless, nefarious purposes. I know I've discussed this before, but it does bear repeating. However, what strikes me at this moment, and what shapes today's blog post, is the points in the second paragraph cited above. It's important to understand how that region and that time were permeated with this older oral tradition Mattson identifies. The very nature of the discourse in the Quran is shaped by this fact. It's very rare that a story is told in its entirety in the Quran, rather, reference is made to it. Part of this relates to the fact that the Quran is not designed, like much of the Old Testament, to lay out the history of a group of believers, but instead as a lesson, and for this reason the examples are briefly cited and then the reflective lesson begins. In addition, and this relates more to today's discussion, there's no need to recount the stories because everyone knows the stories, they were that much a part of the everyday intellectual lexicon. Today, however, sometimes we don't get the reference (or, in a far less serious example, one doesn't get the inside joke because you don't people). The story of Luqman is a classic example.The 31st surah, normally just referred to as "Luqman" is one of my favorites in the Quran. In it God (through Muhammad by way of Gabriel) reminds us of the lessons that Luqman told his son. It comprises a profound moment, but also an intimate, human moment. The thing is, now, fourteen centuries removed, we don't really have a clear idea who Luqman was (more on this later, I promise), although obviously they did at the time. It's presented like, "we remember the story of Luqman, right?" and the audience would have nodded their heads yes and said something like, "that's a great example, why didn't I think of it." Essentially the audience had a context that we don't naturally have today. We increasingly live in a context free world, constantly bombarded by inert facts that are somehow supposed to mean something to us (and I guess we see how well that's going). The key is to find a way to provide that context. How else could we begin to understand the Quran if we don't "get" the references? Hence, the need to study the Quran (or any religious document - or, well, any document religious or not) and not simply recite it. Blind, unquestioning faith is never the answer.
What is important to understand is that the Biblical stories themselves drew upon a much older and oral tradition that did not disappear when the various books the Bible were written. The pre-Islamic Arabs, for example, were well aware that they were descendants of Abraham through his son Ismail (Ishmael) and his mother, Hajar (Hagar). Further, the history of the prophets was known not just through written and oral literature, but through the existence of holy sites throughout the Arabian peninsula and the Near East. The burial place of Abraham, the baptism site of Jesus, Mt. Sinai, Jerusalem, and the Kabah in Makkah - all these sites and many others served as epicenters of religious education and formation, often across parochial boundaries."
Ingrid Mattson, "How to Read the Quran," in Seyyed Nasr, The Study Quran, p. 1594
I've referenced Mattson's elegant essay before, and it's inevitably the first document that I assign to my students in any version of my Dar al-Islam class. I mean, we know these facts, but it can still be jarring the first time that you read the Quran. And if you don't know anything about Islam at all, especially if you've been raised in a tradition that is dismissive of Islam (if not outright Islamophobic) then it can seem a lot worse: that Muslims are conscripting, if not actively stealing, your religious figures for their, doubtless, nefarious purposes. I know I've discussed this before, but it does bear repeating. However, what strikes me at this moment, and what shapes today's blog post, is the points in the second paragraph cited above. It's important to understand how that region and that time were permeated with this older oral tradition Mattson identifies. The very nature of the discourse in the Quran is shaped by this fact. It's very rare that a story is told in its entirety in the Quran, rather, reference is made to it. Part of this relates to the fact that the Quran is not designed, like much of the Old Testament, to lay out the history of a group of believers, but instead as a lesson, and for this reason the examples are briefly cited and then the reflective lesson begins. In addition, and this relates more to today's discussion, there's no need to recount the stories because everyone knows the stories, they were that much a part of the everyday intellectual lexicon. Today, however, sometimes we don't get the reference (or, in a far less serious example, one doesn't get the inside joke because you don't people). The story of Luqman is a classic example.The 31st surah, normally just referred to as "Luqman" is one of my favorites in the Quran. In it God (through Muhammad by way of Gabriel) reminds us of the lessons that Luqman told his son. It comprises a profound moment, but also an intimate, human moment. The thing is, now, fourteen centuries removed, we don't really have a clear idea who Luqman was (more on this later, I promise), although obviously they did at the time. It's presented like, "we remember the story of Luqman, right?" and the audience would have nodded their heads yes and said something like, "that's a great example, why didn't I think of it." Essentially the audience had a context that we don't naturally have today. We increasingly live in a context free world, constantly bombarded by inert facts that are somehow supposed to mean something to us (and I guess we see how well that's going). The key is to find a way to provide that context. How else could we begin to understand the Quran if we don't "get" the references? Hence, the need to study the Quran (or any religious document - or, well, any document religious or not) and not simply recite it. Blind, unquestioning faith is never the answer.
No comments:
Post a Comment