In my teaching and mentoring, I am always struck by how students think about calling as a linear process. They often expect their callings to emerge in a “eureka” moment, when everything comes into sharp focus and their futures becomes apparent. Yet through my work, I have come to see doubt as integral to vocation, as our callings can also lead to mystery, awe, and even fear. As many of us work through these feelings, we come out on the other side stronger in our faith, with a more certain sense of what we are called to do.
In my new book The Islamic Mary: Maryam Through the Centuries, I learned that the Islamic tradition was drawn to the moment of Maryam’s (Mary’s) call specifically when she is told that she will have ‘Isa (Jesus). As the Qur’an narrates, the Angel Jibril (Gabriel) approaches Maryam to share the news of her miracle, but at first she does not recognize the “caller” and is, in fact, afraid and taken aback (19:17-21). Her fear of the unknown illustrates a dynamic of calling that David Cunningham explores in his essay, “‘Who’s There?’: The Dramatic Role of the ‘Caller’ in Vocational Discernment.” As Cunningham explains, studies in vocation often focus on somebody being “called” without necessarily focusing on the identity of the caller, its source, or means of calling. In particular, he emphasizes the “mystery” inherent in vocation and how finding one’s vocation often involves uncertainty and ambiguity.
In the Islamic tradition, this idea of “the caller” and its “mystery” resonates with the story of Maryam. For instance, the medieval poet Rumi (d. 1273) emphasizes Maryam’s encounter and relationship with the divine messenger as a metaphor for a spiritual friend and guide. As Rumi imagines this scene, he highlights Maryam’s anxious reaction when the messenger approaches her because she was taking a bath: “For she was naked and feared corruption.” Rumi describes the divine messenger as beautiful and causing her “exhilaration” and making her “heart pound.” As he writes,
Like sun and moon, the spirit all can trust
Rose up before her eyes from the ground’s dust
Beauty unveiled and rose up in this way
Just as the sun appears each single day
Rumi compares the angel’s beauty to the “sun and moon,” which causes Maryam to “shiver” and be in a state of awe. He further compares the messenger to the Prophet Yusuf (Joseph), who is noted for his handsomeness in the Qur’an, even if Yusuf’s beauty does not match that of the Angel, for Yusuf would have “cut his hands” (a reference to the Qur’anic story) if he had seen the Messenger. Rumi continues that the spirit,
Just like a rose in soil it magically
Came up as if the heart’s own fantasy
She lost her wits as though she had just dreamed;
“I feel now to God’s refuge!” she then screamed
Here, Rumi reimagines the Qur’anic scene not as one in which Maryam fears the motives of an unwelcome intruder, but rather one in which she is taken aback by the beauty of a divine being. The young Maryam does not know how to think or feel, which causes her to seek refuge. As Rumi writes, “She’d seen some amorous glances which could start, // Fires to burn intellects and pierce men’s hearts.” Maryam feels agitated, “like fish on land who had been relocated.” Just like this displaced fish, Maryam is apprehensive, her discomfort palpable with the appearance of this unknown messenger. Rumi makes the point that we may initially reject the divine messenger and the beauty of his message because we cannot fathom its true meaning and depth.
After describing Maryam’s concern and agitation, Rumi then depicts the messenger’s response to her reluctance, fear, and nervousness:
Generous God’s representative then said:
“I come from Him. Trust me and don’t feel dread.
Don’t turn your gaze from God’s exalted ones.
Don’t draw back from His special confidants.”
As he said this, a ray of purest light
Rose out of his lips up to the stars’ height.
Taken aback, the messenger seems offended that Maryam does not recognize him. He states, “I come from Him. Trust me and don’t feel dread,” wanting Maryam not to fear him but to recognize and appreciate his existence and message. In particular, he seems hurt by what Maryam says in the Qur’an: “I truly seek refuge in the Most Compassionate from you! So leave me alone if you are God-fearing” (19:18). But the messenger originates from God, which is why he descends to Maryam in the first place. He is the refuge that Maryam seeks even though she doesn’t realize it initially. He has been there all along, guiding her actions and supporting her when she’s needed it.
Rumi’s emphasis of the messenger’s beauty is not explicit in the Qur’an. For Rumi, the messenger is made of the “purest light,” and when he spoke, light “rose out of his lips up to the stars’ height.” The messenger is like a true moon, which represents the “true dawn, made out of God’s light, // Whose day will never be replaced by night.” He embodies the light that originates from the divine, which will not set like the sun—there will be no “night” or spiritual darkness. The messenger urges Maryam to accept this light and guidance even though she initially does not recognize it and is afraid of what it could mean.
In conclusion, the Islamic tradition and Rumi focused on both the “caller” and the “called” in Maryam’s story. Before ‘Isa can appear, Maryam must accept the “call,” but she first needs to understand the “caller” and his message. This initial sense of mystery leads to her fear, agitation, and anxiety. But once she discerns that the “caller” comes from a trusted source and with good intentions, she more calmy accepts her mission. One of the main lessons of the story, then, is that accepting one’s call does not always emerge out of certainty, but rather out of mystery, awe, doubt and even fear.
Younus Y. Mirza is the Director of the Barzinji Institute for Global Virtual Learning at Shenandoah University, which seeks to improve the United States’ relationship with Muslim-majority countries and to develops global exchange and international projects around the UN Sustainable Development Goals. He is the author of The Islamic Mary: Maryam Through the Centuries, on which this blog draws. He is also a NetVUE scholar, and his essay, “Doubt as an Integral Part of Calling: The Qur’anic Story of Joseph,” appears in Hearing Vocation Differently: Meaning, Purpose, and Identity in the Multi-Faith Academy. To learn more about his scholarship, teaching and speaking, please visit his website. For other posts by Younus, click here.
