2025 Readings 27

 OK, so it definitely seems to be cheating if you're recording the books that you read in the year, and include the Qur'an during Ramadan. So, I guess I'll have to give you that one. However, it is one of the books that I've read in 2025. As I've proposed several time on this blog, my favorite part of Ramadan is the extra time that we can devote to rereading and studying the Qur'an. I would argue that we focus too much attention on fasting, which I suspect is simply because it's easier to quantify. If we're so tired and hungry that we can't focus during our Quranic study, then it seems to me that we've allowed fasting to become the sort of distraction that we warn ourselves against. What amazes me every year is how I keep discovering new things as I work my way through my tattered  copy of Syed Nasr's The Study Quran. There is something beautiful - and necessary - about a consistent deep dive into a complex text. One morning this year I was reading one of Nasr's points (in his voluminous commentary) about praying, and I thought of something that I had never thought of before - or at least thought of something in a different way. It occurred to me the almost parallel similarity between the macro-world of our eternal spiritual life and the micro-world of our daily prayers. In my mind, it looked something like this:

             Death - - - - - - - - - - - - - Life - - - - - - - - - - - - Death

             Prayer - - - - - - -Time Between Prayer - - - - - - Prayer

In a monotheistic tradition where you only live one life, you almost need the time before and after life to make it all make sense. In Hinduism you just keep coming back until you work off your karmic shortcoming, so in the end, even if it may take thousands of lifetimes, everything will balance out and things will be fair and just. However, with one lifetime it almost certainly can't be fair and just, unless you take the much longer view of the time both after but also before you are alive. Essentially, you are with God during those times, and the time in-between, even if God is closer than your jugular vein (as we are told in the Qur'an), you're still not with God. As I was thinking about it that early morning, it seemed to me that the micro equivalent would be our daily time with prayer, with the time we are praying separated by the time where we are forced to go out into the crass and materialistic and decidedly non-spiritual world, before once again coming back into contact with the beautiful. Now, I don't even know if this makes any sense, and I'm still working my way through it. However, it spoke to me of the beauty of Ramadan, and, more generally, the necessity of carving off time for a deep dive into texts, whether the text is the Qur'an or The Book of Disquiet or the Meditations or the Iliad or Bleak House; there's always more time find. However, my joy was short-lived when I read the email from school celebrating the partnership that we're signing with an AI firm. More and more, it's clear that I don't fit in with the college to which I've given a quarter-century of my life.