My first exposure to Islam was through Shaykh Muḥammad al-Jamal al-Rifa’i, a teacher at the Blessed Al-Masjid Al-Aqsa, one of the three holiest sites in Islam, who has students in the Holy Land, Europe, as well as North, Central, and South America. I was especially attracted to Shaykh Al-Rifa’i’s teachings by one of his statements in particular, “If the Muslims, Jews, Christians, and the people of any other religion, knew their religion well, there would only be one religion, the religion of love and peace and mercy.” This statement felt true to me, and it felt like what I will call an ‘inherent truth,’ like it was a truth that struck a chord somewhere within my heart, a place of inner knowing. This statement especially resonated with me as a counter-position to my childhood experience attending a conservative Christian church where one of the teachings seemed to be that we, the members of the church and those who believed exactly as we did, held the truth exclusively, and by extension, held the privilege of salvation exclusively. As a child, teenager, and young adult I struggled with reconciling this church teaching with my experience of friends and classmates of various religious backgrounds who seemed to honestly and earnestly love God and seek to know God and serve God.
Years later I came to study Shaykh al-Rifa’i’s teachings, and eventually I converted to Islam, which made me the sole Muslim in a family of conservative Christians. Some of my family members responded to my conversion with real grace; one of my favorite aunts responded by saying that while my beliefs were not what she believed, she loved me, I was family, and she recognized that I have a loving connection to God. Other family members repeatedly shared gross misstatements about the Holy Qur’ān and about the Prophet Muḥammad, may God’s blessings and peace be upon him; criticisms of Islamic practices/theology (criticisms leveled without effort to understand what was being criticized); outright Islamophobic messages; somewhat more subtle anti-Islamic messages spreading mistrust and fear; or statements of their hope for me to experience the salvation that is only available through the agency of Jesus. Once again, I found myself in the midst of this Christian concept of exclusive truth and salvific privilege.
As my exposure to Muslims and Islamic scholarship grew in the years following my conversion, I quickly realized that some of those things I found troubling about Christianity are similarly present in Islam – a sense of ownership of an exclusive truth and an exclusive salvation; a fundamentalism that has led, in some cases, to widespread extremism; a history of violence and oppression; a divisiveness as seen in the Protestant versus Catholic schism as well as the many divergent sects in Christianity and the Sunni versus Shia schism as well as the many divergent sects in Islam; etc. Finding these troubling aspects of religion in Islam initially came as a surprise because these aspects of religion are such a stark contrast to my experience of Islam; my experience of Islam has been that of Islam as the means by which I returned to faith in God after having turned away from God, as the means through which I underwent an unfolding of ever-increasing, deeply-felt experience of loving connection to the Divine through the Islamic practices of prayer, cultivating remembrance of God, fasting, charitable giving, pilgrimage, etc. So the wide divergence of opinions evident in Islamic schools of thought, forms of government, fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence, i.e., interpretation of divine law in rulings or interpretations by jurists), etc., came as a surprise because, in many instances, these divergent positions seemed so far from my heartfelt experience of Islam, which raised the question – when sincere believers who are educated, even experts in their religious fields, hold such disparate views, how does anyone, including the new convert, establish for him-/herself what constitutes religious truth.
Muslims seek knowledge and understanding first through what God has revealed in the Holy Qur’ān, and second through sunna, i.e., the embodiment of the Qur’ānic message as exemplified in the life of the Prophet Muḥammad, blessings and peace upon him (bpuh). Yet it is the individual heart through which the Qur’ān and sunna are assimilated. In his discussion of Qur’ānic knowledge, A.H. Mathias Zahniser writes that “the heart is ‘the organ of perception and understanding’ (Kermani 2002: 547).[1] In his discussion of Qur’ānic theology, Binyamin Abrahamov writes that “(belief) is connected with a feeling of the heart.”[2] Shaykh al-Rifa’i teaches that knowledge is of two types – acquired knowledge, i.e., scholarship, and bestowed knowledge. This bestowed knowledge is what is referred to in the saying of Imam Shams al-Din al-Dhahabi (d. AH 748), “(Knowledge is) not the profusion of narration, but a light which God casts into the heart….”
If the ability to perceive and understand, even the ability to believe in God, is determined by the state of the heart, then the greatest likelihood of perceiving and understanding truth is associated with the most purified state of the heart. For a Muslim, the ideal, in other words, the most pure heart, was that of the Prophet, bpuh, so a Muslim seeking the highest truth will seek to dispose his or her heart to a state of receptivity to the “light which God casts into the heart,” and thereby mirror as closely as possible the heart of the Prophet, bpuh. Through sīra literature and ḥadīth Muslims are taught of the purity of the Prophet, bpuh – of the purity of his lineage; of his trustworthiness before prophet-hood; of the removal and cleansing of his heart by the angels when he was a child before his miraculous night journey from Mecca to al-Aqsa and ascension through the seven heavens to the throne of God; of his extra rounds of prayer and his standing in prayer during the night and other means of constant striving in worship as an outpouring of his trust in God, faith in God, love for God, and gratitude to God; of his generosity and love for people in a state of poverty/need; of his just and merciful rulings as the leader of the community in Medina; of his noble character and sublime deportment in all aspects of life; all of which lead to the conclusion that only the most pure of hearts is disposed to manifest true perception and understanding in human action, and that only through constant purification can one seek to dispose one’s own heart to the truest perception and understanding.
Contemplation of the purity of Muḥammad, Jesus, Noah, Moses, and Abraham, blessings and peace be upon them all, leads to awareness of the state of one’s own heart in comparison, to realization of the lesser degree to which one’s own heart is a clean mirror purely reflecting prophetic truth, wisdom, patience, surrender to God, love for God and for all of the creation, and effacement in the reality of God. In short, contemplation of the prophets and the state of one’s own heart leads to humility in relation to one’s perceptions and understandings of truth.
However, this heart-awareness and concomitant humility are not often overt in discussions of Islamic hermeneutics. Even a cursory reading of scholarship in Islamic history, theology, and philosophy reveals varying exegetical models for interpreting the Qur’ān; accordingly, application of these models to questions about religious truth and the relation of Islam to other religions has yielded widely varying opinions, some of which feel to my heart quite far from truth and far from humility. As a starting point in the search for true interpretation, or even the search for the prevailing opinion in Islamic theology, one seems to find common ground reflected in the precept of God’s unity. On this subject Binyamin Abrahamov writes that “God’s unity is stated in two ways: the positive (‘He is God, the One’ Q 112:4) and the negative (‘There is no god but He’ (Q 2: 163).”[3] This foundational belief in God’s oneness has led to a variety of interpretations, from a literal view of monotheism, i.e., the existence of only one god, to the spiritual view of inner-connectedness, of one soul, of oneness that encompasses all apparent duality, that nothing other than God is truly real or manifest. Perhaps the degree to which one applies this concept of unity, of God’s oneness, to the idea of religion, and to the perceived world, i.e., contingent, worldly manifestation, correlates with the state of one’s heart, the degree of one’s humility, and how exclusively one holds his or her perception of religious truth.
In his essay “The Qur’ān and other religions,” Abdulaziz Sachedina opines that “Muslims assert the unique characteristic of Islam is its conviction that belief in the oneness of God unites them with all of humanity, because God is the creator of all humans, irrespective of their allegiance to different faith communities.”[4] Sachedina notes, “There is an oft-repeated reference to humankind being one community…: ‘The people were one community (umma); then God sent forth the prophets, good tidings to bear and warning, and he sent down with them the book with the truth, that he might decide among the people touching their differences.’ In this citation of Q 2:213, three facts emerge: the unity of humankind under one God; the particularity of religions brought by the prophets; and the role of revelation…in resolving the differences that touch communities of faith.”[5] Sachedina posits that the Qur’ānic conception of religious pluralism “does not deny the specificity of each religion and the contradictions that might exist among them” and that it “emphasizes the need to recognize the oneness of humanity in creation and to work towards better understanding among peoples of faith.”[6] He goes on to speak of this verse as “the foundation of a theological pluralism that takes the equality and equal rights of human beings as a divinely ordained system.”[7]
Not every Islamic scholar agrees with Sachedina’s interpretation that the Qur’ānic position holds religious pluralism as “fulfilling a divine purpose for humanity.”[8] Nowhere is the divergence of opinion and lack of humility in relation to one’s perception of truth so startling as in the application of the abrogation theory by Islamic scholars who “argued that the famous ‘Sword Verse” enjoining the believers to ‘slay the idolaters wherever you find them’ (Q 9:5) abrogated no fewer than 124 other verses commanding ‘anything less than a total offensive against the non-believers’”[9] Of this position, M.A.S. Abdel Haleem writes,
This far-fetched interpretation isolates and decontextualizes a small part of a sentence and of a passage, 9:1-15, which gives many reasons for the order to fight such polytheists: they continually broke their agreements and aided others against the Muslims, they started hostilities against the Muslims, barred others from becoming Muslims, expelled them from the Holy Mosque and even from their own homes…. Moreover, consistent with restrictions on war elsewhere in the Qur’ān, the immediate context of this ‘sword verse’ exempts such polytheists as do not break their agreements and who keep the peace with the Muslims (9:7); it orders that those enemies seeking safe conduct should be protected and delivered to the place of safety they seek (9:6). The whole of this context to verse 5, with all its restrictions, is ignored by those who simply isolate one part of a sentence to build on it their theory of war and violence in Islam.”[10]
This latter opinion seems to be consistent with the ‘humble’ approach to jurisprudence espoused by Kevin Reinhart, who writes that “no verse, in principle, is self-subsistent; any verse draws its true meaning from a constellation of relevant verses throughout the Qur’ān and also from the sunna, from previous agreement about its meaning and from reflection upon its linguistic implications…. [And] every text, no matter how bald-faced, must be subject to reflection because of the possibility that somewhere in the revelational discourse there is a text that might be brought to bear on the manifest text so as to divert its meaning from the obvious to a more obscure, but more correct sense.”[11] In criticism of the former opinion Abdulaziz Sachedina writes, “What was overlooked in this exegetical analysis was the fact that the Qur’ān introduces the idea of abrogation in connection with legal injunctions…. Invoking abrogation in connection with Islam’s attitude towards former Abrahamic traditions constitutes an illegitimate expansion of this original context. Even those classical exegetes like Muḥammad b. Jarīr al-Tabarī (d. 310/923)…could not fail to notice that the logical extension of this notion of ‘abrogation’ appears incompatible with the qur’ānic promise of rewarding those who believe in God and the last day, and work righteousness (Q 2:62). In fact, al-Tabarī regards such an extension as incompatible with the concept of divine justice.”[12]
This sort of tension between contradictory attitudes about nonbelief in the Islamic revelation is similarly apparent in interpretation of Q 109. Jane Dammen McAuliffe argues that “there is nothing that suggests an ‘acceptance’ of ‘religious pluralism’ or a desire to promote religious ‘toleration’ in Q 109:6, speaking of those who use this verse to support interreligious dialogue as part of “a general pattern of misreading…in the name of religious diversity and toleration.”[13] McAuliffe does however go on to acknowledge that “Q 2:256 and its assertion ‘there is no compulsion in religion’…is the locus classicus [for Qur’ānic interreligious theology].”[14] McAuliffe’s acknowledgement seems appropriate as the importance of ‘no compulsion in religion’ as espoused in Q 2:256 is clearly evident across the multitude of interfaith discussions; this verse seems to prevail as the central pluralistic precept, as demonstrated in statements like that of Sachedina, “It was and remains inherently a matter of public policy in which a Muslim government must acknowledge and protect the divinely ordained right of each and every person to determine his or her spiritual destiny without coercion.”[15]
As for applying the concept of God’s unity to the idea of one religion for one community (as expressed in Shaykh al-Rifa’i’s statement referenced earlier), Tamara Sonn makes an analogous point in her introduction to The Blackwell Companion to The Qur’ān; Sonn presents the Qur’ān as depicting monotheism as one and the same religion:
The Qur’ān refers to the monotheistic tradition as simply ‘the religion’ (al- dīn), meaning the monotheistic religion that began with the initiation of the covenant between God and humanity at the time of Abraham (Ibrāhīm). It informs its audience that Muḥammad’s revelation is part of the same tradition: ‘He has laid down for you as religion what He charged Noah with, and what We have revealed to you, and what We charged Abraham with, Moses and Jesus: ‘Practice the religion, and do no separate over it.’ (Q 42:14).
The Qur’ān calls upon believers to recognize the religion of Abraham, clearing positioning itself as revelation in the same tradition:
And they say, “Be Jews or Christians and you shall be guided.” Say: “No, rather the creed of Abraham, a true believer; he was no idolater.” Say: “We believe in God, and in what has been revealed to us and revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac and Jacob, and the tribes, and what was given to Moses and Jesus and the prophets from their Lord; we make no division between any of them, and to Him we surrender.” (Q 2:136-7; cf: 26:193-8)[16]
Tamara Sonn begins her consideration of the Qur’ān’s relationship to other scriptures by mentioning its “numerous references to the earlier monotheistic scriptures, which it identifies as the Torah and the Gospels” and its numerous references to “characters and events familiar to Jews and Christians.”[17] Similarly, in the introduction to his translation of the Qur’ān, M.A.S. Abdel Haleem writes, “the Qur’ān clearly defines its relationship with earlier scriptures by saying: ‘He has sent the Scripture down to you [Prophet] with the Truth, confirming what went before:
He sent down the Torah and the Gospel earlier as a guide for people’ (3:3-4). This relationship of Abrahamic lineage is also seen in Q 5:46-47: “We sent Jesus, son of Mary, in their footsteps, to confirm the Torah that had been sent before him: We gave him the Gospel with guidance, light, and confirmation of the Torah already revealed – a guide and lesson for those who take heed of God. So let the followers of the Gospel judge according to what God has sent down in it….”
In his book Approaching the Qur’ān, Michael Sells makes the point that “Muḥammad had thought that the Jews and Christians in Arabia would be the first to accept the message [of Islam] brought in the name of the tradition of Abraham, Moses, and Jesus [may God’s blessings and peace be upon them all]…. Mr. Sells likens this disappointment to that of “some Christian writers in the refusal of Jews to recognize Jesus as the Messiah,” pointing out that both Christianity and Islam are religions that “claim to be the culmination of a revelation” and that both Judaism, Christianity and Islam “see themselves as the faithful followers of the original revelation (Judaism vis-à-vis Christianity, Judaism and Christianity vis-à-vis Islam). While the Christianity exemplified by St. Paul views itself as the rightful inheritor of the original covenant between God and Abraham, the Qur’ān views itself as the embodiment of the original, pure (ḥanīf) monotheism revealed in succession to Abraham, Moses, and Jesus.”[18]
The Qur’ān’s inclusiveness of earlier scriptures and presentation of its message as the same message revealed in earlier scriptures in no way precludes its voice of authority concerning religious differences. Sonn writes, “the Qur’ān says that the communities that received those scriptures had become confused about it (Q 42:13)…advis[ing] that if [the Jews and Christians] understood their scriptures properly, there would be no dispute and, what is more, they would recognize that the Qur’ān truly confirms what had been revealed before. ‘This is a blessed scripture We have revealed, confirming that which was before it’ (Q 6:93).”[19] Sonn continues, “The Qur’ān thus presents itself as confirmation and clarification of the true religion of monotheism, the religion of Abraham, which Jews call Judaism and Christians call Christianity but which is really a single tradition. ‘This Qur’ān narrates to the children of Israel most of what they disagree about. It is a guide and a merciful gift for believers’ (Q 27:77-8).”[20]
Even so, not all scholars see this voice of authority regarding religious differences as paired with passages evoking inclusiveness of earlier scriptures and sameness of message. For example, Sachedina refers to Q 3:85 as “Islamic absolutism,” stating that this verse “asserts in no uncertain terms that ‘whoever desires another religion than Islam, it shall not be accepted of him; in the next world he shall be among the losers’.”[21] By way of contrast, other scholars do see this sort of pairing, as is evident in Abdel Haleem’s translation: “Say [Muḥammad], ‘We [Muslims] believe in God and in what has been sent down to us and to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, and the Tribes. We believe in what has been given to Moses, Jesus, and the prophets from their Lord. We do not make a distinction between any of them. It is to Him that we devote ourselves.’ If anyone seeks a religion other than [islam] complete devotion to God, it will not be accepted of him: he will be one of the losers in the Hereafter.” (Q 3:84-85)[22] Of note here is the variance in the reading of ‘Islam as the religion’ versus ‘islam as submission or “complete devotion to God.”’
While scholars disagree about the interpretation of Q 3:85, consensus does exist amongst Muslim scholars regarding one of the foremost of the Qur’ānic clarifications – namely, the role of Muḥammad as the messenger of God. On this topic Sonn writes:
Muḥammad is presented as an integral part of the succession of prophets sent by God to reveal the divine will, just as Jesus and Moses were sent before him:
And when Moses said to his people, “O my people, why do you hurt me, though you know I am the messenger of God to you?” … And when Jesus, son of Mary, said, “Children of Israel, I am indeed the messenger of God to you, confirming the Torah that is before me, and giving good tidings of a messenger who shall come after me, whose name shall be Aḥmad;” then when he brought them clear signs, they said, “This is sheer sorcery.” (Q 61:6-7)
“Aḥmad” in this passage refers to Muḥammad. Muslims believe that the specific prediction of the coming of Muḥammad was deleted from Christian scriptures or, at least, that the general prediction of someone coming after Jesus (for example, John 16:6-33) has been misinterpreted. The Qur’ān makes a number of similar clarifications of the previous messages. For example, when Abraham demonstrated his submission (islām) to the will of God by agreeing to sacrifice his son, the son in question is identified as Ishmael…not Isaac….the Qur’ān calls Jesus the “son of Mary,” not the son of God (Q 2:88; 2:254; 3: 46, etc.). He was a messenger (Q 4:172). God is the creator of all that exists, the Qur’ān says, not the progenitor of children [Q 5:73; 23:91]…. Furthermore, the Qur’ān says that Jesus was not crucified. The Qur’ān says that it only appeared as if he had been killed, but really God “took him up to himself” (Q4:158). [23]
Of the Qur’ān’s role as confirming and clarifying previous revelation, Sachedina writes that “even when repudiating the distortions introduced in the divine message by the followers of Moses and Jesus, the Qur’ān confirms the validity of these revelations and their central theme, namely, ‘submission’, as founded upon sincere profession of belief in God.”[24] In fact, Sachedina points out that “instead of denying the validity of human experiences of transcendence that occur outside Islam, it [Islam] recognizes and even confirms the salvific efficacy of such experience… ‘Surely they who believe, and the Jews, and the Christians, and the Sabaeans, whoever believes in God and the last day, and works righteousness – their wage awaits them with their lord, and no fear shall be on them, neither shall they sorrow’ (Q 2:62).”[25]
Along the same lines, Sonn argues that Qur’ānic clarifications are not for the purpose of further separation of communities; rather they are to address an inevitable part of the divine plan. Sonn writes, “the fact that the communities of earlier prophets have separated over their interpretations is accepted as the will of God: “If your Lord had so willed, He would have made mankind one community, but they continue to remain divided” (Q 11:119); cf. Q 2:213; 10:19).”[26] Abdel Haleem makes the point that the Qur’ān “urges the Christians and the Jews to practice their religion (5:68, 45, 47)…. and the Qur’ān appeals to what is common between them: ‘Say, “People of the Book. Let us arrive at a statement that is common to us all: we worship God alone, we ascribe no partner to Him, and none of us takes others beside God as lords” (3:64).” [27] Continuing along the same lines, Abdel Haleem notes that the Qur’ān “urges the Muslims to say: ‘We believe in what was revealed to us and in what was revealed to you; our God and your God is one [and the same]’ (29:46). God addresses Muslims, Jews, and Christians with the following: ‘We have assigned a law and a path to each of you. If God had so willed, He would have made you one community, but He wanted to test you through that which He has given you, so race to do good: you will all return to God and He will make clear to you the matter you differed about’ (5:48).”[28]
Sonn emphasizes the same idea that rather than focus on differences, the Qur’ān encourages us to “race to do good,” to “complete with one another in good works.”[29] For me, this exhortation to do good returns me to contemplation of the Prophet, bpuh, as the best example for doing good, and as the best example for a heart of true understanding and perception, a heart of the greatest receptivity to the light of God. In the same vein, the Qur’ānic appeal to ‘practice their religion’ and to ‘what is common between them’ evokes Shaykh al-Rifa’i’s statement, “If the Muslims, Jews, Christians, and the people of any other religion, knew their religion well, there would only be one religion, the religion of love and peace and mercy.” In his discussion of Q 2:213, Sachedina makes a statement that resonates with some of the same undertones in Shaykh al-Rifa’i’s statement; Sachedina writes that this verse “introduces a universal message that relates all humankind to the unique and single divine authority. Furthermore, it relativises all competing claims to exclusive truth. This universal message is firmly founded upon the principle of divine unity. Humanity must acknowledge one God in order to focus on the ultimate reality, the source of all beings.”[30] The same undertones are also present in his conclusion that “there is an essential unity in the beliefs of ‘the people of divine religions’…who…are innately disposed to believe…”[31]
While certainly not the accepted approach to scholarship, I cannot help but consider how any scholar’s interpretation, such as Sachedina’s position, rests in the mind, i.e., does it seem well-reasoned, based on legitimate sources, etc., and how it feels in the heart, i.e., does it feel concordant with an ‘innate disposition,’ with a sense of inherent truth, of inner knowing. From my perspective, this mind and heart process happens automatically regardless of one’s awareness of it or whether one speaks to it. Moreover, I posit that the perception and understanding of the heart, in other words, the heart’s response to an interpretation, is the most important factor in discerning truth. In this particular instance, it is this heart process that leads me to concur with Sachedina’s position and also to take that position one step further; I contend that not only does Q 2:213 “emphasize the need to recognize the oneness of humanity…and work towards better understanding,” it also emphasizes the appropriateness of humility because it is God who created humanity, God who sent forth His message, God who will decide “among the people touching their differences.” Putting it differently, no matter how certain I am of the truth in my heart, only God is the possessor of truth. Accordingly, human interpretation should be held in the perspective of God is God, humanity is humanity, and amongst humanity is a spectrum of hearts’ clarity and ability to perceive truth and understanding, with the messengers of God and the prophets at one end of that spectrum and the rest of humanity following somewhere else along it in accordance with individual receptivity to the light of God. From this perspective, bearing in mind that authority clearly rests in God alone, one’s interpretations should be held with humility, and if not with humility, at least with caution reminiscent of the Murji’a conclusion based on Q 9:106 (“And there are others who are left for God to decide either to punish them or to show them mercy. God is all knowing and wise”) that “humans were in no position to judge the faith of their fellow-believers and thus such judgement should be ‘deferred’ to God.”[32] From this perspective, one’s interpretations should first be held with humility - with awareness that they may be clouded by the imperfections of one’s heart and intellect, with awareness that they may be erroneous. Further, one’s interpretations should be put to the litmus test of the heart for compatibility with one religion of love and peace and mercy. Similarly, one’s interactions with others of differing beliefs should be put to the litmus test of the heart for compatibility with mercy for all humanity, for all creatures, for all the worlds.
[1] A.H. Mathias Zahniser, “Knowing and Thinking,” in The Blackwell Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 285.
[2] Binyamin Abrahamov, “Theology,” in The Blackwell Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 421.
[3] Abrahamov, 421.
[4] Abdulaziz Sachedina, “The Qur’ān and other religions,” in The Cambridge Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Jane Dammen Mcauliffe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 297.
[5] Sachedina, 294.
[6] Sachedina, 294.
[7] Sachedina, 297.
[8] Sachedina, 305.
[9] Alexander Knysh, “Multiple Areas of Influence,” in The Cambridge Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Jane Dammen Mcauliffe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 218.
[10] M.A.S. Abdel Haleem, The Qur’ān: A new translation by M.A.S. Abdel Haleem (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), xxiv.
[11] A. Kevin Reinhart, “Jurisprudence,” in The Blackwell Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 434 and 442.
[12] Sachedina, 302.
[13] Jane Dammen Mcauliffe, “The tasks and traditions of interpretation,” in The Cambridge Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Jane Dammen Mcauliffe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 201-202.
[14] McAuliffe, 202.
[15] Sachedina, 295.
[16] Tamara Sonn, “Introducing,” in The Blackwell Companion to The Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 7.
[17] Sonn, 6.
[18] Michael Sells, Approaching The Qur’ān: The Early Revelations (Ashland, Oregon: White Cloud Press, 1999), 105-107.
[19] Sonn, 7.
[20] Sonn, 7.
[21] Sachedina, 301.
[22] Abdel Haleem, 40-41.
[23] Sonn, 7-8.
[24] Sachedina, 298.
[25] Sachedina, 296-7.
[26] Sonn, 7-8.
[27] Abdel Haleem, xiv-xxv.
[28] Abdel Haleem, xiv-xxv.
[29] Sonn, 7-8.
[30] Sachedina, 300.
[31] Sachedina, 304.
[32] Knysh, 222.
RSS Feed