jamatkhana is cancelled
The terrifying spread of SARS-CoV-2 has overturned the entire world. On top of the health risks and the uncertainty around treatment, many people are just counting down the days until we get “back to normal”. Many of the early outbreaks around the world came directly from religious gatherings. There’s prominent examples in Korea, Bangladesh, and the United States. Despite this, governments have been champing at the bit to re-open places of worship. People shoved into an enclosed space (religious or otherwise) is always a bad idea when it comes to contagious diseases.
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If you’re heading back to Jamatkhana, why not go in style with these designs inspired by Isma’ili history and philosophy.
important note:
This is a reflection of the changes where I live (and will eventually attend Jamatkhana). Things may be different for your congregation.
opening jamatkhana
Around the world, starting (with success) in Lisbon, Jamatkhanas are starting to re-open. But the pandemic hasn’t gone away. In order to keep the Jamat safe, the Imam has authorized the modification of various ceremonies. While it’s entirely within the Imam’s prerogative to change ceremonies (according to the constitution, he can do so without giving a reason or a warning), many people will feel like their religious experience is somewhat diminished with these modifications. While, in the books, Isma’ilism emphasizes the esoteric meaning of our rituals, allowing the form of the practice to necessarily change, it’s hard to let go of our traditions.
So, with the announcements of Jamatkhanas reopening, let’s talk about what rituals are cancelled, and what that actually means for the practice of our faith.
shaking hands
One of the first practices to be modified, even before Jamatkhanas closed was Du’a Karavi. In this ceremony, Isma’ilis ask God for forgiveness in the presence of (a representative of a representative of) the Prophet, as outlined in the Qur’an. This traditionally involves the exchange of an offering, and the clasping of hands between the participant and the representative.
Due to social distancing, the offering is now passed indirectly, placed on a table without making contact with the Imam’s representative. Instead of clasping hands, the representatives will keep their hand on their heart. Holding hands as a sign of endearment, loyalty, respect, and alliance far predates Islam, but it gains another symbolic meaning when looking at the Victory Chapter of the Qur’an.
إِنَّ الَّذِينَ يُبَايِعُونَكَ إِنَّمَا يُبَايِعُونَ اللَّهَ يَدُ اللَّهِ فَوْقَ أَيْدِيهِمْ ۚ فَمَن نَّكَثَ فَإِنَّمَا يَنكُثُ عَلَىٰ نَفْسِهِ ۖ وَمَنْ أَوْفَىٰ بِمَا عَاهَدَ عَلَيْهُ اللَّهَ فَسَيُؤْتِيهِ أَجْرًا عَظِيمًا
Indeed, those who pledge allegiance to you, [O Muhammad] - they are actually pledging allegiance to Allah . The hand of Allah is over their hands. So he who breaks his word only breaks it to the detriment of himself. And he who fulfills that which he has promised Allah - He will give him a great reward.
(48:10 Sahih International Translation)
So what are we giving up by not shaking hands, especially with a representative of the Imam? In ancient Greece, where many historians believe the western tradition of shaking hands as a greeting originated, shaking hands was a demonstration of safety: both parties were not carrying weapons. But during a pandemic, an outstretched hand can still hide danger. We can’t see the virus, and with most cases showing mild or no symptoms (according to WHO) a handshake can easily turn into an infection. The meaning of the handshake has flipped completely inside out in our present world, and it’s no longer applicable. And many of these demonstrations of solidarity, that we could apply to this ceremony fall into the same trap of physical contact. Isma’ilis in Afghanistan and Central Asia perform this ceremony by holding both hands, which is better for the symbolism, but worse for the spreading of disease.
There’s also a ritual performed in the Du’a where we hold hands with those around us and offer well-wishes and create unity in the congregation. This practice is, obviously, out the door as well, and for the same reasons. This ritual has also been replaced with placing one’s hand on their heart, although we could probably take an example from the namaz or secondary daily prayers and just look vaguely in the direction of other people instead of making any contact, hand-, eye-, or otherwise.
Placing the hand on the heart, whether you’ve noticed it or not, has had its place in Isma’ili tradition for a while now. In the volunteer training in 2017-18, we were encouraged to place our hands on our hearts to greet others, not only for the brevity of the interaction (since we were moving large crowds) but also to maintain respect. Incorporating the hand-heart contact in this ceremony preserves the respect of the ceremony while also accommodating safety.
In the early 2010s, the Imam visited the Jamat in India and East Africa and explained at length that he modified a ritual similar to that of Du’a Karavi, eliminating hand-to-hand contact. He explains that this is for logistical reasons, but his actions show a subtle replacement with the gesture of — you guessed it — placing a hand on the heart. So, this change in practice is planned and practiced, both by the Imam and the Jamat for at least the last seven years.
water
There are two major rituals in Isma’ilism that involve water. Water, its abundance, and its purity have myriad symbolic meanings in Islam, and that’s much the same reason it’s used in ceremonies. If you’ll remember from my post about Purity Water, it’s not the properties of the water that provide the meaning of the ceremonies, but the ritual surrounding the water. So when creating a safe environment, one obvious thing to remove is communal water. In my local Jamatkhana, water fountains are closed leaving only the ritual water to be shared.
purity water
Despite my previous interpretation, Purity Water is still being served. The only difference is that the water itself, in many cases, will be prepared separately so the ceremony surrounding the water is separated from its preparation and its consumption; the separate parts of the ceremony are not being removed, they’re just being spaced out.
In my previous post on the subject, I concluded that an integral aspect of this ritual was “intention”. Because the ceremony is temporally removed, it’s up to those who participate in the ceremony to hold onto their intention when they take the sealed water all the way until they’re in a safe space to consume it. If we’re following the esoteric interpretation of this ritual, that should be easy, because the intention should be there regardless of the physical symbols.
sprinkle water
The other ceremony that would traditionally use water has completely removed the physical water. If you don’t know, the preparation of the Sprinkle Water is much less intense than the preparation of Purity Water; in fact: it comes down to a single recitation. And you can do that recitation at home on your own water!
Nade Ali, Nade Ali, Nade Ali
Nade Aliyyan mazhar al-ajaib
Tajidahu awnan lakafin-nawaib
Kullu hammin wa ghammin
sayanj-i Ali Bi wilayatika,
Ya Ali! Ya Ali! Ya Ali!Call Ali call Ali call Ali,
the manifestation of marvels
He will be your helper in difficulty
Every anxiety and sorrow will end
Through your friendship.
O Ali, O Ali, O Ali
This is a prayer that’s been covered in depth by so many others. You can learn more about it on Simerg.
If you don’t trust your own pronunciation, you can also listen to a recitation below (hold your water close).
This is one of the changes that I’m actually the most disappointed in because it could’ve been a chance to exhibit Isma’ilis’ signature “pluralism”:
“Let us realize that in the matter of helping our brethren we have much to learn from our sister communities.”
Prince Aly Khan
February 2, 1941
(source)
Meanwhile, this is what our “sister” communities are doing. Much more preferable.
holy treats
Just like water, some Isma’ili rituals use symbolic foodstuffs, either offering or partaking. As far as I know, the option for offering foodstuffs, either for the general congregation or for specific rituals, has been suspended completely. As for partaking in food, just like the Purity Water, the food will be prepackaged, separating the consuming of the food from the other rituals associated. It’s up to the participants again to hold onto the intention of the ritual for a time when it’s safe to remove their mask and partake in the symbolism: whether it’s for ritual purification, like sukhrit; or a simple reminder of devotion, like juro.
singing and chanting
One thing all the cool religions have in common is singing and chanting. Nothing gets me quite in the mood like thousands of people saying the same words at the same time (and I’m not even being sarcastic). While we’re talking about Catholics, they give everyone in their congregations books with lyrics so everyone can sing along; I’d be 120% down for that in Jamatkhana… after the pandemic of course, because singing and chanting are cancelled. There will still be Ginans and Qasidas recited, as well as zhikr/tasbih when necessary, but the congregation is strongly advised not to participate. With fair reason too. Everyone opening their mouths and spreading that lung-deep air into other people’s open mouths is probably the worst thing you can do. So, the new protocol is one person will be reciting the chants and hymns behind a shielded podium, while the rest of the congregation sits and thinks about it, I guess.
Wait.
That’s exactly what you can do. Instead of focusing on the pronunciation (it’s al-hamdu lillah, not Allah-hamdu lillah; the “Allah” is at the end), we can take this time to focus on the meaning of the prayers that we have. I’m gonna preface this next part by saying: don’t whip your phone out in khane. But, I’ve already compiled some resources to help people who don’t understand Arabic or Gujarati or Kochki or Farsi (people like me) to get a basic understanding of what’s being recited.
tasbih and zhikr
I’ve already written in depth on the translation of various tasbih and zhikr that we recite in Jamatkhana.
But, because I don’t want you whipping out phones in Jamatkhana, I’ve also created a PDF that you can printout and fold into a book, following these instructions.
ginans and qasidas
There are many places you can get translations of Ginans:
alWaez Kamaluddin has the most standard translations, and you can order his books.
Ismaili.net, while controversial, has its own library of texts, translations, and recitations.
University of Saskatchewan has its own index of Ginans and translations, many of which are from aWz Kamaluddin
Even I have my own resource, which I’m adding to all the time. These are mostly Kamaluddin translations, but I’m also trying to include Qasidas (also, it’s in dark mode).
So while you may be tempted to recite along with your favorite ginan or qasida, don’t. Instead, do as the Pirs say and: “contemplate on the true meaning of the ginan”
but we’re still isma’ilis through it all
Sure, we’re getting rid of some rituals and we won’t be able to pray shoulder to shoulder anymore. But does that make us any less Isma’ili? I would argue that this makes us more Isma’ili than before. We have an opportunity to examine our rituals and (with the guidance of the Imam) reform the practices in order to address the current state of the world. But more specifically than that, this pandemic situation, is not new to Isma’ilis.
Ibn Sina (who’s probably not Isma’ili, but may have been from an Isma’ili family and definitely followed the same scientific tradition as the Isma’ilis) wrote about epidemiology in his Canon of Medicine. He expanded on the “miasma theory of disease” (which is just hilarious to learn about) with his theory of contagion. He talked about transmitting disease through breath and contaminated water. Other Muslim scientists expanded the explanation of these unseen particles that can contaminate food and clothes. While Ibn Sina’s Canon was the standard medical textbook through the 16th century, these ideas have been reinforced by scientific observation and are still what we base our pandemic-related safety measures on today.
I can’t quote it here, but if you have a Diamond Jubilee Farman book laying around, check out the first one in there (pg 12, if you have the new book). We are facing times of crisis and rapid change, and the faith of our forefathers can help us face these challenges. Thankfully, the “faith of our forefathers” includes cleaning contaminated surfaces, washing your hands, and not breathing directly onto other people. So while we make these changes to our Jamatkhana practices, remember that this is not a change in the practice of our faith. This is a continuation of our faith. And if you decide to return to Jamatkhana, especially in these early days, remember there are a thousand years of Muslims reminding you to wear your mask and wash your hands.
post-experience update
On Tuesday, I was able to actually go to Jamatkhana and experience the changes first-hand. While they asked us not to share our experiences with others (to preserve privacy), my final note will be that the Jamat was surprisingly compliant with the volunteers. While it is difficult to get used to the new procedures, it still felt safe.