Faith in the Time of Corona

We asked our readers to share their reflections on Ramadan 2020 as we prepare to enter our second COVID Ramadan. This is a compilation of some of their submissions, lovingly stitched together by our team, and edited and condensed for readability.

“I remember it quite well: January 1st of 2020. I was excited and happy for many reasons. Most of those reasons had seemed important then—it was like there was something in the air of the night as I screamed my lungs out on the rooftop of my hostel apartment. Watching fireworks and celebrating New Year’s, I knew it would be different this time…”¹

Truly, no one knew how different 2020 would be. Our lives came to a sudden halt when an unknown strain of the coronavirus was discovered. Shortly after it became a global emergency, Muslims were forced to confront the uncertainty of how they would experience a fulfilling Ramadan—a month in which an individual’s spirituality is often rejuvenated in the company of others.

Muslims worldwide witnessed a Ramadan stripped of its familiar traditions. Gone were the visits to the mosque, adorned with intricate decor to welcome the month of the Qur’an. Families and friends were no longer gathering for homemade iftars² or driving late at night to Muslim-owned restaurants. We were not praying taraweeh³ shoulder-to-shoulder in overcrowded halls, nor was the mosque filled with worshippers spending the last ten nights in i’tikaaf.⁴ We didn’t join the community for suhoor⁵ at the mosque in preparation for the day’s fast, nor did we gather to hear the intimate khatm duaa⁶ after the completion of the Qur’an, a blessed time in which all worshippers supplicate to Allah (ﷺ) together.

Allah (ﷻ) says:

وَلَنَبْلُوَنَّكُم بِشَىْءٍۢ مِّنَ ٱلْخَوْفِ وَٱلْجُوعِ وَنَقْصٍۢ مِّنَ ٱلْأَمْوَٰلِ وَٱلْأَنفُسِ وَٱلثَّمَرَٰتِ ۗ وَبَشِّرِ ٱلصَّـٰبِرِينَ

“We will certainly test you with a touch of fear and famine and loss of property, life, and crops. Give good news to those who patiently endure.”⁷

This pandemic is a vivid reflection of the diverse means by which Allah (ﷺ) can test His servants. Many of us are grieving the loss of loved ones, enduring economic hardships, and grappling with the uncertainties of disease exposure as we continue to serve the public on the front lines. We are experiencing trials in our mental health, relationships, spirituality, and personal care. The hardships that accumulate from year to year normally increase our anticipation of Ramadan, but this time, our congregational worship, gatherings of remembrance, and social activities were cut from the picture.

“The first thing I missed was taraweeh prayers, the feeling of unity, the recitation of Qur’an by the imam, the late night walks to the mosque, the feeling of calmness in the air. I’d have the windows open to let in the cool breeze in the summer nights. Taraweeh was also a social affair. I would see friends I didn’t usually see and catch up with old faces, share hugs and stories, and ask for a prayer or two. I would fast from social media during those days with the intention to fast from chatter, mindless scrolling, and a lot of noise.”⁸

As we adjusted to the new normal, we had the opportunity to reevaluate what we considered to be a mosque.

“The Messenger of God (ﷺ) said,

‘The earth has been made for me a place of prostration and a means of purification, so wherever a man of my Ummah is when the time for prayer comes, let him pray.’⁹

Mosques are not only buildings with four walls, a full-time imam, and shelves for our shoes. Mosques can be found everywhere. Look outside: the rolling expanses of grass and decaying leaves are carpets. The trees are fellow worshippers, raising their branches up in prayer. The clouds pass slowly, listening intently to our yearnings. The sun and moon are light fixtures magnificent behind our imagination and understanding.

The doors of God’s acceptance and mercy were still open, but different paths to them were paved. In our isolation last year, we were being invited to the most original and natural places of worship. In solitude with God. One on one.”¹⁰

“I’ve been praying taraweeh at home for many years now, and I’ve always loved it. While being surrounded by the Muslim community at the mosque has its benefits, I prefer to pray at home to minimize distractions; meaning, I don’t have the temptation to socialize with others or walk around the halls of the masjid aimlessly. When the peak of the pandemic hit last March, everything went on lockdown. I felt as if I had been running full speed ahead and was suddenly stopped by this brick wall, forcing me to stop moving forward with my life. Because my work and classes became virtual, I was forced to bring my professional life to my home. I normally associate my home with comfort and relaxation while anything on the contrary, I keep outside. Experiencing Ramadan at home impacted my worship because my stressors were now a part of the same space I sought tranquility in during my taraweeh prayers.”¹¹

A common theme of reflection during the pandemic was our relationship with time. Some felt that it was flying by with little achieved by the end of the day as our routines were forced to change.

“During Ramadan in quarantine, there was nothing preventing me from devoting myself completely to worship with no distractions, so I took the opportunity to perform i’tikaaf. I likened myself to Maryam (‘alayha as-salam, peace be upon her) in this moment, who, as a young woman, was always found worshipping in seclusion within her own space as the Qur’an narrates about her. I created that space in my bedroom, my sanctuary. During the day, since we were in lockdown and could not go anywhere else, I went out for daily walks in the beautiful summer weather and found myself contemplating and appreciating the simple beauties of nature and Allah’s (ﷻ) creations. The hustle and bustle of the external world had come to a pause, bringing a newfound calmness to my home that I didn’t experience during Ramadan outside of these circumstances. Since I had no other urgent commitments or social obligations, all was calm on the outside, so I attempted to create this tranquility in my inner world too.”¹²

Many of us became more introspective, understanding that although the world may have seemed to be on pause, our responsibility to worship Allah (ﷺ) remained. When Allah (ﷺ) challenges us, we adapt in order to spiritually survive. While we were doing our part by masking up and social distancing, we had to spiritually uplift ourselves when the hubs of our community were shut down. Sometimes that means creating new traditions.

“I made a list of how I wanted my days to look, including my adhkar (remembrances of God), tahajjud¹³ and reading the Qur’an every night before I slept. It was the recitation of Surah Al-Mulk in particular that I had wanted to make a habit…

In order to keep myself from burning out, I incorporated a lot of my hobbies and things I wanted to learn like writing, poetry, and simple lazy times and just doing things I lost touch with… And on some days, it was as simple as taking a shower and lighting up that incense to motivate my transition into a better, smarter, stronger, healthier, and, hopefully, a more God-conscious me.”¹⁴

And last Ramadan made some of the hidden blessings in our lives more apparent.

 “I’ve learned the blessing of freedom. I took it for granted. Something as simple as giving loved ones hugs; I didn’t know it was a blessing. To see their faces and so on. Alhamdulillah. Even then, alhamdulillah we are safe in our homes. Now I appreciate safety even more when I think of others who don’t have it.”¹⁵

“It made me personally empathize with new Muslims because while I knew it was hard to connect to people who had a Muslim background, to hear how this was the norm for them in their lives every year made me recognize that there needs to be more of a reach out to them and not the other way around. We don’t take care of our new Muslims as well as we should or could.

The men in my family were reminded that being able to pray in congregation is a blessing in itself. A lot of people didn’t empathize with their female family members and their desire to attend the mosque until now, when that blessing was no longer an option for them. They also realized how much work goes into Ramadan and their iftaar. They couldn’t just ignore all of the efforts that their wives and daughters made since they were constant witnesses of it at home.”¹⁶

The obstacles we faced helped us find new meanings in our path toward Allah. We were given the opportunity to rediscover the core purpose of Ramadan.

“Although breaking fast with other masjid-goers is certainly a special experience, it’s not the main goal of Ramadan. Gathering with fellow brothers and sisters for taraweeh is beautiful, but it’s not the main goal of Ramadan. Drinking from the chai afterward is definitely a great (and delicious) experience, but it’s still not the main goal of Ramadan.“¹⁷

“Being in lockdown gave me the opportunity to reclaim my spiritual agency. While I did miss going to the mosque, my worship isn’t tied to going to the mosque, and I had time to reflect on that.”¹⁸

We can spend our time lamenting the pains, difficulties, and restrictions 2020 brought upon us. However, the unexpected circumstances pushed us to reconsider what worship and spirituality meant.

“Are we upset about the masjid being closed because of our fear of Allah (ﷻ) and desire to worship Him, or because our egoic nafs (self) is now being tested to connect to Him in ways that are inconvenient? Are we mad because we love Allah (ﷻ), or because we hate being tested? The answer to this will determine how we respond to the tests Allah (ﷻ) sends out of mercy to help us grow.”¹⁹

For years, we have only seen the tip of the iceberg. However, the pandemic helped reveal what was hidden underwater.

“Taqwah (God-consciousness) is carrying out the commands of Allah (ﷻ) and turning away from that which He has forbidden. It does not mean carrying out the commands of God in exactly the ways we want all the time. The whole point of taqwah is staying on the straight path despite the obstacles (tests) Allah (ﷻ) places in the way. This means maneuvering around them, not trying to bulldoze through them with self-righteous fury and selfishness.

We must not be fooled by our nufoos (inner selves) and confuse our being accustomed to a convenient lifestyle with taqwah. If we are truly upset for Allah’s (ﷻ) sake, we would be finding every way possible to worship Him when one of those ways is closed; we would be establishing congregational prayer in our homes and spending time with Qur’an and beneficial knowledge, not hours on social media. Similarly, if we’re not upset at all that one of the means of worshipping Allah (ﷻ) has been suspended from us, and we continue our lives with ‘business as usual,’ we need to be doing some soul searching too.

Let us be reminded of the Prophetic duaa (supplication) the Prophet (ﷺ) used to make precisely because our egos and emotions many times can misguide us:

‎اللهم لا تكلنا إلى أنفسنا طرفة عين

Oh Allah, do not leave us alone with our nufoos for even a blink of an eye²⁰”²¹

Ameen!

1. HKafarati, 24, Khartoum

2. The sunset meal with which one opens their fast.

3. Ritual voluntary night prayers performed after Isha during Ramadan.

4. Isolating oneself from worldly affairs for a period of time to worship, either done alone or with others.

5. The meal eaten before dawn to start one’s fast.

6. It is customary for an entire Quran to be completed in congregation during taraweeh prayer; on the night it is completed, a special supplication is made in Arabic out loud in the congregation.

7. Qur’an, 2:155

8. Salma Begum, 27, Manchester

9. Sunan an-Nasa’i 736 – The Book of the Masjids. https://sunnah.com/nasai:736

10. Ayah Chehade, Dearborn

11. Rama Alhakim, Detroit

12. Salma Begum

13. Voluntary night prayers before fajr after one has awoken from sleep

14. Hkarafati

15. Danyah, LA

16 FM

17. AM

18. Saffiyya Mohammed, Trinidad and Tobago

19. Imam Ahmad Deeb

20. Hisn al-Muslim 88 – Fortress of the Muslim. https://sunnah.com/hisn:88

21. Imam Ahmad Deeb