When ordinary knowledge becomes personalized and penetrates into the depths of a sound perception, it reaches the level of gnosis or wisdom (irfan). A gnostic (arif) is a person cognizant of the secrets and wisdoms of Divine manifestations embedded as knowledge in his heart. Simpler put, an arif refers is he who possesses irfan. A person knowledgeable in the conventional scholarly disciplines, though not in the spiritual, is rightfully referred to as a scholar, yet not as gnostic. Knowledge possessed by such people is fixed like the written knowledge in books. This situation resembles a seed in a storehouse; it cannot flourish so long as it is kept detached from soil. Since it is kept at a distance from the heart, it is a kind of knowledge that cannot culminate in true contemplation. Knowledge of the kind has therefore rightly been labeled as ‘bookish’ or ‘pedantic knowledge.’
However, all kinds of knowledge are undoubtedly beneficial if they are used in a proper manner and directed towards their opposite end. Yet, insofar as the real happiness and ultimate salvation of humankind in this world and the next is concerned, acquiring only the external aspects of sciences does not “provide a sufficient solution. To fill this gap, Islam underlines the spiritual aspects of sciences and demands that they be used in a good and beneficial way for humankind entire, without being exploited for evil purposes. In this context, Islam has coined a term ‘beneficial knowledge’ (al-ilmu’n-nafi) that revamps the entire externalities of human sciences from a transcendental perspective. Great scholars call attention to the insufficiency of a scientific knowledge devoid of deep, spiritual dimension.The only remedy, accordingly, to remove this weakness is to undertake a spiritual training. It is not possible to put trivial aspects of ordinary knowledge together in a harmonious way. The real kind of knowledge and truth is attainable only under the guidance of spiritually qualified teachers.
The inner maturity attained at the end of the spiritual road elevates human perception to a horizon higher than that of exoteric sciences, and the term marifah refers to this very horizon: by the exclusive means of certain spiritual practices can one reach this horizon. No matter how eminent a scholar one might be, upon obtaining such a high level of perception, he acknowledges his own weakness, whereby he is effectively cured from the disease of self-conceit. He becomes filled with feelings of awe and weakness in the presence of a horizon that opens up to an exhibition of infinite and intricate realities. Reflecting further with a sound reason, he furthermore realizes that to know is not to simply look on at the outward aspects of a given thing. Much rather, it is to solve its underlying mystery of the great design and coming to an insightful awareness of Divine wisdoms impressed upon creation.
Through a symbolic parable, Rumi offers a splendid explanation of the significance of acquiring the knowledge of the Divine for the eternal happiness of mankind, and of the tragic outcome waiting for those who do not enter the path of its realization. A grammarian boards a boat. He starts talking with the boatman in a smug and conceited manner, which he keeps up throughout the journey. From time to time, he asks the boatman various questions on the intricacies of grammar. Each time the boatman confesses to not know the answer to the question posed, it inflates the grammarian’s pride all the more, who pities him, each time, saying, ‘What a pity! You have wasted half of your life in ignorance!’ Though heartbroken he may be, being the mature and kind man he is, the boatman does not respond to the insulting remarks made by the grammarian and remains silent. With their conversation flowing along these lines, there suddenly erupts a great storm, dragging the boat into a terrifying whirlpool. As the other travelers begin to panic, this time the boatman turns to the grammarian and asks, ‘Do you know how to swim, great man?’ The grammarian’s face grows pale and says with a dim voice, ‘No, I do not.’ To that the boatman replies, ‘I may have laid waste to half of my life by not learning grammar…but you, my friend, have just wasted your entire life by not learning how to swim. If only you knew, grammarian, that what matters in the sea is not the knowledge of grammar but the knowledge of how to swim!’
The knowledge of grammar in this parable symbolizes the worldly and exoteric sciences. Truly beneficial knowledge, however, is the knowledge that meets human needs; and the greatest of all human needs, physically and spiritually, is to attain to the eternal happiness. And this depends on attaining to the pleasure and contentment of the Lord, which, in turn, depends on a perfected faith and deeds.
This story tells us that come the time when our spirit is about to leave our body as we lay on our deathbeds, the only kind of knowledge of benefit to us will not be the spiritless and dry knowledge that only serves to aggravate our egos, but the knowledge that transforms our ordinary learning into irfan and thereby meets our eternal needs and desire for happiness.
Before death reaches us, we therefore need to transform all kinds of information that lie dormant in our mental storehouse into beneficial knowledge that would please the Almighty. For at the time when our flesh is about to return its origin, the earth, from whence it came, scattered pieces of learning that have merely provided a comfortable life to our flesh will not help us anymore. At that moment, we need a sound, purified heart. Before death reaches the heart, the heart needs to get rid of the obstacle of the ego and acquire a sound quality. Inability to reach this level is to drown in the vast sea of the Hereafter. But those who save themselves from negative characteristics to the extent of virtually killing their egos, are graciously welcomed by that new realm of existence, immune from all the harm that otherwise comes from it. The Sufi maxim to ‘Die before death’ is quite illuminative in this regard. Death, in this sense, is to minimize the desires of the ego. Accomplishing this demands a constant self-examination. ‘Call yourselves to account before you are called to account’ is another spiritual principle of Sufism urging one to review and contemplate on the nature of the never-ending desires of the ego and practice towards rectifying his soul, before it inevitably happens in the impending world to come.
A scholar reports that he once “…saw Abu Hamid Ghazzali among a group of evidently enlightened people, wearing clothes full of patches and carrying a ewer in his hand. I asked him, ‘Was not the position of head-professorship in the Nizamiya Madrasa of Baghdad better than this?’ He looked deeply into my eyes for a while and said, ‘I am here because when the full moon of happiness rose on the sky of will, the sun of reason showed the way of meeting.’” (Muhammad ibn Abdullah al-Hani, Adab, p. 9)”
For this reason, the most influential type of knowledge that will lead mankind to happiness and salvation, in this world and the next, is the knowledge of heart that makes one acquainted with the Lord. It is this kind of knowledge that gives birth to a sense of mental and spiritual responsibility with which man fulfills good deeds in the best way possible. Without this profound feeling of sensitivity, science will only serve to destroy mankind, even though they emerged to serve mankind to begin with. Beneficial knowledge, therefore, is a matter of broader horizons and mentality. Without beneficial knowledge, the many potentially useful aspects of human sciences cannot be actualized. On the contrary, they become instruments serving malicious ends. The only way to avoid this hazard is through attaining to that inner maturity and noble characteristics imparted by what we call beneficial knowledge.
(Excerpt From: Osman Nuri Topbas, “Sufism”)
