The Squandered Prophet

“Khālid ibn Sinān is considered to have been a prophet after the time of Jesus but before the time of Muḥammad… Khālid was a man of extraordinary spiritual power, and by use of his staff was able to counter a fire that was engulfing his land in Aden. He chased the fire back into the cave from whence it came, and then made plans to enter the cave in order to extinguish the fire completely. He ordered his people to call for him after waiting no less than three days. He said that if they called him before the appointed time it would lead to his death. They waited two days, and then in their haste they cried to him, and he came out with a wound on his head caused by their early summons… He then said he would die, and ordered them to bury him. Then, after a period of forty days, they were to disinter him so that he could give them an account of the things he saw in the world of the barzakh. The appointed day came, and certain signs that Khālid foretold came to pass, and those who believed in Khālid sought to follow his wishes, but his children refused to bring out Khālid, having lost faith and fearing the disgrace of exhuming their father’s dead body. When the Prophet met the daughter of Khālid, he said, “Welcome, O daughter of a prophet whose people failed him.” The apparent contradiction between the orthodox belief that there were no prophets between Muḥammad and Jesus and the alleged prophethood of Khālid can be resolved if one recognizes that Khālid was not a prophet before his journey through the barzakh of death, and in fact was not able to realize his prophethood because his people failed to carry out his wishes.”

— Caner K. Dagli, translator’s footnote to Ibn al-ʿArabī, The Ringstones of Wisdom (Fuṣūṣ al-ḥikam), p. 275

In that place between places, in the expanse of the grave,
The son of Sinan, the Lord’s servant, Khalid
Anxiously bids the hereafter. His hopes in kin
And people have perished, patience has faded,
And trust in the Truth to distress now ceded:

“Listen! to this tale of loss, but be al-Lateef to my rudeness!
Thou didst promise prophethood, and the prospect of heralding
The Chosen One’s coming, he who’s all creatures’ mercy.
And when from the grot it engulfed both guilty and innocent,
Both flesh and foliage, that flame in the woods,
I neither fled nor faltered but went forth with my staff
And to the cave chased it! So cold was my skin,
So closely didst Thou keep me in the clasp of Thy Hands!
Then I turned to the others and told them thus:
‘Deeper in, to douse it, for three days, I must.
Do not summon me sooner; I am safe from pain
And destruction with ye silent. Swear by my words!’

Then I ventured in, with Thy Names on my tongue,
Without weariness or worry, and warred ‘gainst the inferno.
But, after some time, I felt the tingle of heat…
Oh, barely I bore it: the burning, the anguish,
That small taste of the torment that awaits the wicked!
How mad is man to not remember it often?
How mad is man to make meager its mention?
How haughty is he to not take heed of his shroud
And to consider himself of the saved from Hell?

My skin scorched, a sign of the end,
I heard their howling, heavy on my heart,
And knew instantly: ‘Know, O people,
That your failure to follow, your defying my command
Now makes due my death, but redemption is open
If ye hearken, adhere, and by al-Hakam pledge:
Bury my body, then bide till enters
A herd of sheep, whose shepherd is a donkey,
Who tailless trots, and at my tomb will rest,
Then unearth me, and earn the reward of the righteous;
All I will see of the unseen, I’ll speak of, so ye may believe
In the prophets past and prophets to come,
In the events that will convene that inevitable Hour.’

Yet my remains remain, and the message with them,
And alone I am left with loss to linger.
How cruel a consequence! How cruel a punishment!
With an intent so esoteric, it astounds my reason
And confounds my faith!” Thus reflected Khalid,
In that place between places, without purpose, in the grave…

Or so he believes, but his Lord, who listens, now answers:

“O child of Adam, who from dust I created,
To a towering top did thou throw thy complaint!
Yet have I rendered a ruling? Has My Wrath prevailed?
So what grievance may one give when the gates remain closed?
Any hardship endured was to a debt paid;
For toil and trial did We create Man.
Do not forget thy gifts: how We granted thee miracles
And fashioned thee Our friend; to few is the privilege.
Their failure to follow, their defying thy commands
Will testify against them, and toward thee is no blame.
As for the reward of thy wish to forewarn what was to be,
It is like the poor man who prays to be prosperous like a king
That richly he may give, in charity, to those downtrodden:
Ample is his aim, and with thy aim, the same.
O Prophet! For thee awaits Paradise, and companions both righteous
And sweet, and springs, and the sheer sight of thy Lord,
Who neither forsook nor scorned thee, but safeguarded and remembered.”