In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.
The best of generations in stances and exemplary conduct,
following the Messenger whenever he strove or journeyed afar.
Mawaddah Association
presents:
"Portraits from the Lives of the Tabi'un,"
by Dr. Abd al-Rahman Ra'fat al-Basha,
may Allah have mercy upon him.
Rabi'ah al-Ra'y,
may Allah have mercy upon him.
On a certain moonlit summer evening,
a knight in his late fifties arrived in al-Madinah al-Munawwarah.
He made his way through its alleys, riding his horse toward his home,
not knowing whether his house still stood as he had last known it,
or whether the passing of time had taken its toll upon it.
For nearly thirty years, or thereabouts, had elapsed during his absence from it.
He kept wondering about his young wife whom he had left behind in that house:
what had become of her?
And about her unborn child whom she was carrying in her womb:
had she given birth to a boy or a girl?
Was the child alive or dead?
And if alive, what had become of him?
He also wondered about that large sum of money he had gathered from the spoils of jihad,
which he had left in her trust when he set out striving in the cause of Allah
alongside the Muslim armies heading to conquer Bukhara, Samarqand, and the surrounding regions.
The alleys and streets of the city were still bustling with people coming and going,
for the people had only recently concluded the Isha prayer.
Yet none of those he passed recognized him or paid him any heed,
nor did anyone look toward his noble steed,
or to his sword slung over his shoulder.
For the residents of the Islamic cities had grown accustomed to the sight of fighters setting out for combat in the cause of Allah or returning from it.
However, that only stirred the knight's sorrow and heightened his uneasy thoughts.
While the knight was immersed in these reflections,
continuing to feel his way through those changed alleys,
he suddenly found himself before his house and saw its door ajar.
Overcome by joy, he rushed in without seeking permission from its occupants,
stepped through the door, and advanced deep into the courtyard.
The master of the house heard the creak of the door and looked out from his upper chamber,
seeing in the moonlight a man girded with his sword and bearing his spear,
breaking into his house under cover of night.
His young wife was standing not far from the stranger’s line of sight,
so he sprang up in anger, came down barefoot toward him, and said,
"Do you cloak yourself in the darkness of night, O enemy of Allah,
breaking into my home and assaulting my family?!"
He lunged at him like a ferocious lion defending its lair from harm,
giving him no chance to speak.
The two men wrestled and grappled with one another,
their shouts grew loud, and their clamor arose.
Neighbors rushed to the house from every direction,
surrounding the stranger as closely as an iron collar clings to the neck,
and aiding their neighbor against him.
The master of the house seized him,
tightened his grip upon his throat, and said,
"By Allah, I will not release you, O enemy of Allah, except before the governor!"
The man replied,
"I am no enemy of Allah, nor have I committed any sin!
Rather, this is my house and my rightful property.
I found its door open, so I entered."
Then he turned to the people and said,
"O people, listen to me!
This house is my house; I purchased it with my own wealth!
O people, I am Farrukh!
Is there no one left among the neighbors who remembers Farrukh,
who departed thirty years ago to strive in the cause of Allah?!"
The mother of the master of the house had been asleep,
but she awoke to the commotion,
looked out from the window of her upper chamber,
and saw her husband in the flesh.
Astonishment almost tied her tongue,
but she soon called out,
"Leave him! Let him go, Rabi'ah!
Let him go, my son; he is your father!
Disperse from him, O people, may Allah bless you!
Beware, O Abu Abd al-Rahman!
For the one you are confronting
is your son and the darling of your heart!"
No sooner had her words reached their ears
than Farrukh turned toward Rabi'ah,
embracing and holding him tightly.
And Rabi'ah turned toward Farrukh,
kissing his hands, his neck, and his head.
The crowd dispersed from around them,
and the mother of Rabi'ah came down to greet her husband,
whom she had never imagined
she would ever meet again in this world,
after news of him had ceased
for nearly a third of a century.
Farrukh sat with his wife
and began telling her of his circumstances,
explaining why news of him had been cut off.
Yet she was too preoccupied
to absorb much of what he said;
for her joy at reuniting with him
and seeing him united with his son was marred
by her fear of his anger over the loss
of all the wealth he had entrusted to her care.
She kept saying to herself:
"What if he asks me now about that large sum of money
that he left in my trust,
instructing me to spend from it reasonably?
What will his reaction be
if I tell him that nothing of it remains?
Will it satisfy him if I say
that I spent what he left with me
on his son's upbringing and education?
Will he believe that his son's hand
is more generous than rain-bearing clouds,
that he keeps neither dinar nor dirham,
and that the entire city
knows he has spent upon his brethren
thousands upon thousands?"
While the mother of Rabi'ah was lost
in these anxious thoughts,
her husband turned to her and said,
"Bring out the wealth I entrusted
to you, so that we may add this to it
and purchase with all of it an orchard or real estate,
living off its yield
for as long as our lives may last."
She feigned distraction and gave him no answer,
so he repeated his request, saying,
"Come now, where is the money,
so that I may add to it what I have with me?"
"I have placed it where it ought to be placed,
and I will bring it out for you after a few
days, if Allah wills."
The voice of the muezzin interrupted their conversation,
so Farrukh hurried to his water pitcher,
then hastened toward the door,
saying, "Where is Rabi'ah?"
They told him, "He preceded you to the mosque
at the very first call,
so that you may catch the congregational prayer."
Farrukh reached the mosque
and found that the imam had just finished the prayer,
so he performed the obligatory prayer alone.
Then he proceeded toward the Noble Tomb
and conveyed greetings of peace upon the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him.
Next, he turned toward the purified Rawdah,
for his heart held deep yearnings for it
and a longing to pray therein.
He chose a spot for himself within its luminous expanse,
and began offering voluntary prayers,
praying whatever Allah willed him to pray,
and then supplicating with whatever he was inspired to ask.
When he intended to leave the mosque,
he found its vast courtyard overflowing
with a gathering of sacred knowledge
the likes of which he had never witnessed before.
He saw the people encircling the scholar leading the gathering,
circle after circle,
leaving not a single foothold in the courtyard.
He scanned the crowd
and saw turbaned elders
advanced in age and dignified men,
whose bearing showed they were men of high standing,
as well as many young men
kneeling upon their knees,
pens in hand,
eagerly recording whatever the shaykh spoke
as pearls are gathered,
preserving it in their notebooks
as precious treasures are preserved.
The people were directing their gazes
toward where the shaykh sat,
listening intently to every word he uttered,
as if birds were perched upon their heads.
Transmitters relayed what the shaykh said,
so that not a single word escaped anyone,
no matter how far away they were.
Farrukh tried to make out the shaykh's features,
but could not due to his vantage point
and his distance from him.
He was awestruck by his brilliant eloquence,
his overflowing knowledge,
his remarkable memory,
and the deference of the people before him,
until the shaykh concluded his gathering and stood up.
The people rushed toward him,
crowding around and encircling him,
following him to escort him
out of the mosque.
Thereupon, Farrukh turned to a man
who was sitting beside him and said,
"Tell me, for Allah's sake, who is this shaykh?"
The man replied in astonishment,
and Farrukh said, "Yes, indeed."
The man said, "Is there in all of the city
a single person who does not know the shaykh?!"
Farrukh said, "Pardon me
if I do not know him,
for I have spent nearly thirty years
away from the city,
and returned to it only yesterday."
The man replied, "No harm then."
Then he said, "The shaykh to whom you listened
is one of the leading masters of the Tabi'un
and an eminent figure among the Muslims;
He is the hadith master of Medina, its jurist,
and its leading imam, despite his young
age." Farrukh then said—
“If only, when thou enteredst thy garden, thou hadst said: That which Allah willeth (will come to pass)! There is no strength save in Allah! Though thou seest me as less than thee in wealth and children,” (18:39)
but the man continued, saying:
"Indeed, his gathering includes, as you saw,
Malik ibn Anas,
Abu Hanifah al-Nu'man,
Yahya ibn Sa'id al-Ansari,
Sufyan al-Thawri,
'Abd al-Rahman ibn 'Amr al-Awza'i,
al-Layth ibn Sa'd,
and countless others."
Farrukh said, "Yet you..."
but the man did not give him a chance to finish his sentence:
"He is gentle, approachable, and generous of hand;
the people of Medina have never known anyone
more bountiful toward friends and their children,
nor more detached from worldly pleasures,
nor more yearning for that which is with Allah."
Farrukh then asked,
"Yet you have not mentioned his name to me."
The man replied, "He is Rabi'ah al-Ra'y."
Farrukh asked, "Rabi'ah al-Ra'y?"
The man answered, "Yes, his name is Rabi'ah,
but the scholars and elders of Medina
called him 'Rabi'ah al-Ra'y'
because whenever they could not find
a direct text in the Book of Allah
or a hadith of the Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him,
they would turn to him.
He would then exercise reasoned judgment (ijtihad) and draw an analogy
between that which lacked a text and that which had one,
resolving whatever was obscure to them
in a way that put minds at ease
and brought reassurance to hearts."
Farrukh asked eagerly,
"Yet you have not told me his lineage!"
The man replied, "He is Rabi'ah ibn Farrukh,
with the kunya Abu 'Abd al-Rahman.
He was born after his father left Medina
to strive in the cause of Allah,
so his mother undertook his upbringing and education.
And just before the prayer, I heard people
saying that his father returned last night."
At that moment,
there rolled down from Farrukh's eyes
two great tears,
for which the man could discern no reason.
Farrukh then hurried his steps toward his home,
and when Rabi'ah's mother saw him, she asked,
"What is the matter, Abu Rabi'ah?"
He said, "Nothing but good!
I have just seen our son, Rabi'ah,
in a station of knowledge, honor, and glory
the likes of which I have never seen for anyone before."
Rabi'ah's mother seized the opportunity and said,
"Which is dearer to you:
thirty thousand dinars, or this
immense knowledge and honor your son has attained?"
He said, "Nay, by Allah, this is far dearer to me
and more precious than all the wealth of this world
entirely!" She said,
"I have spent all that you left with me upon him;
are you truly pleased with what I have done?"
He said, "Yes, and may you be rewarded
on my behalf, on his behalf, and on behalf of the Muslims
with the best of rewards!"
They were once here,
showering our lives like clouds,
and ever among us,
their memory soars high.
They departed, leaving in the conscience
a profound question:
Did ever a star like them ascend and shine so brightly?
They filled this life
with proud accomplishments through their deeds,
and the world of mankind flourished through them.