Allah, Glory be to Him, says in His Mighty Book:
مُّحَمَّدٌ رَّسُولُ اللَّهِ ۚ وَالَّذِينَ مَعَهُ أَشِدَّاءُ عَلَى الْكُفَّارِ رُحَمَاءُ بَيْنَهُمْ ۖ تَرَاهُمْ رُكَّعًا سُجَّدًا يَبْتَغُونَ فَضْلًا مِّنَ
اللَّهِ وَرِضْوَانًا ۖ سِيمَاهُمْ فِي وُجُوهِهِم مِّنْ أَثَرِ السُّجُودِ ۚ ذَٰلِكَ مَثَلُهُمْ فِي التَّوْرَاةِ ۚ وَمَثَلُهُمْ فِي الْإِنجِيلِ كَزَرْعٍ
أَخْرَجَ شَطْأَهُ فَآزَرَهُ فَاسْتَغْلَظَ فَاسْتَوَىٰ عَلَىٰ سُوقِهِ يُعْجِبُ الزُّرَّاعَ لِيَغِيظَ بِهِمُ الْكُفَّارَ ۗ وَعَدَ اللَّهُ الَّذِينَ
آمَنُوا وَعَمِلُوا الصَّالِحَاتِ مِنْهُم مَّغْفِرَةً وَأَجْرًا عَظِيمًا
The translation of which:
Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. And those with him are firm with the disbelievers and merciful with one another. You see them bowing and prostrating, seeking Allah’s good favour and His pleasure. The sign ˹of brightness can be seen˺ on their faces from the trace of prostration. This is their description in the Torah. And their parable in the Gospel is that of a seed that sprouts its ˹tiny˺ branches, making it strong. Then it becomes thick, standing firmly on its stem, to the delight of the planters—in this way Allah makes the believers a source of dismay for the disbelievers. To those of them who believe and do good, Allah has promised forgiveness and a great reward.
We are living in a time defined by dual realities: one in which scientific breakthroughs and technological wonders push the boundaries of what’s possible and another where the essence of what it means to be human seems to be slipping away. On the one hand, we are told that ‘evolution’ holds the promise of infinite progress, yet on the other, we face the quiet devolution of our inner lives. As our tech tools grow sharper, our insights become dulled. The progress we experience, however impressive, feels devoid of meaning. Thus, the postmodern world can be seen as a desert disguised as a garden—a place of apparent beauty, but hollow at its core.
How did we arrive at this point? To understand this, we must first recognize the gradual erosion of our intellectual capacity to interpret the world around us. This decline was not accidental. It was guided by powerful forces that have shaped our perception. Among these forces is the mobile phone, an instrument of distraction, and its close companion—the media. Together, they craft a narrative designed to divide and distract, offering dualities that often leave us confused, disconnected, and disillusioned.
This narrative does not stop with our understanding of the world; it reaches into the very core of how we relate to each other and the world around us. Shallow education systems, dubious sources of information, and the rapid churn of news and debates all feed into this narrative. Movies, TV shows, reels and soundbites that last no longer than 30 seconds reduce complex realities to simple, often misleading ideas. In this environment, haste replaces depth, and our ability to think critically, and grasp enduring truths, fades.
In such a world, we must ask ourselves: How did this intellectual fragmentation come about? What happened to the legacy of profound thought and inquiry that once defined our civilization? The answers lie in the intellectual currents that shaped the modern world, and nowhere is this more evident than in the Islamic world. Reformers like Jamal al-Din al-Afghaniand Muhammad Abduh sought to reconcile Islamic tradition with modernity and their ideas were influenced by the intellectual currents of the West, particularly the European Enlightenment.
Figures like Herbert Spencer, with his ideas on evolution, progress, and the power of reason, resonated deeply with these reformers. They believed that Islam, like all other religions, needed to embrace the scientific and rational advancements of the West. But in their quest for modernization, they misread the true essence of Islam. Islam, they believed, needed to “catch up” to the modern world—a world that was presented as progressive and rational. In doing so, they overlooked the vast intellectual and spiritual wealth that Islam had cultivated for centuries.
This intellectual shift led to a vision of Islam that was shaped by the superiority of Western rationality and scientific thought. The consequences of this shift are evident today. The Muslim world finds itself at a crossroads—caught between the legacy of reformist thought and the secularism promoted by the West, struggling to make sense of a rapidly changing and fragmented global order.
One profound example of this struggle is the Transvaal Fatwa, issued by Muhammad Abduh, then Mufti of Egypt, addressing the challenges faced by Muslims in South Africa under British colonial rule in the early 20th century. Hajj Mustafa al-Transvaali posed three questions to Abduh, concerning issues of dress codes, the permissibility of slaughtering animals with an axe, and prayer procedures. Abduh’s responses were liberal and sparked intense debate across the Muslim world. The fatwa was modern in its approach challenging traditionalist views as a result Muslims faced a challenge in adapting to modernity.
But this fragmented thinking goes beyond intellectual debates—it touches every aspect of our lives. The manipulation of perception extends far beyond ideologies, infiltrating how we understand war and global crises. What was once a tragic, deeply human reality of conflict is now a televised spectacle. The horror of suffering is reduced to fleeting images, consumed passively and devoid of lasting impact. The same reductionism applies to natural disasters—floods and crises become entertainment; their true gravity lost in an endless cycle of new. This shallow coverage erodes our capacity for critical thinking.
Meanwhile, we see the commercialization of what was once sacred. Concepts like ‘halal,’ which symbolise purity and adherence to divine law, are now capitalist products. Halal certification and branding has expanded into a booming market, offering even halal dating services. What a strange time! The ‘Halalification’ of things. The sacred is reduced to a mere transaction, commodified for profit. And so, what was once central to Islamic identity is lost in the noise, reduced to an element of consumption.
This world—one where truth is obscured, where meaning is diluted, where reality and illusion blur—is a direct consequence of confining Islam into a private religion instead of a way life, falling to engage critically with the intellectual currents shaping our time. We live in a fragmented world; we can no long be disconnected from the deeper currents that govern human existence. It is here, at this moment, that we are called to act.
The essence of this khutbah is a call to return to the tradition of critical thinking and intellectual integrity. We must reclaim that lost depth, re-engage with our heritage, and ground ourselves in the intellectual and spiritual wealth that has defined Islam for centuries. The perfection of the intellect is not only the root of good character, but the pathway to truth. And who better to guide us in this pandemonium than the Messenger of Allah ﷺ. His intellect was unmatched, a spear of wisdom in a world characterized by ignorance. The Prophet’s ﷺ’ ability to confront idolaters, present proofs to Jews and Christians, and confound his adversaries, exemplifies the intellectual perfection we must strive for. In an age such as ours, we must look to his example—an intellect grounded by divine guidance.
This divine knowledge encompassed all realms—spiritual, intellectual, and practical. Ali ibn Abi Talib, may Allah be pleased with him, said, “If I spoke to you about Surah al-Fatiha, it would overburden seventy camels.” What, then, of the knowledge of our master Muhammad ﷺ, and the understanding of the Qur’an imparted to him? In every verse and every teaching lies an ocean of wisdom, overflowing with answers for the challenges of humanity across generations.
The Prophet ﷺ was given knowledge of the unseen and the unfolding of events until the Day of Resurrection. Muslim narrates that ‘Amr ibn Akhtab al-Ansari said: “The Messenger of Allah led us in the Fajr prayer one day, and then ascended the Mimbar, and spoke to us until the Dhuhr prayer arrived. He came down, prayed, and then climbed the Mimbar again, and spoke to us until the Asr prayer. He came down, prayed, and then climbed the Mimbar again, and spoke to us until sunset. He informed us of everything that would come to pass until the Day of Resurrection; the best informed of us are those who remember best.”
Can we not feel the weight of his ﷺ concern? He stood tirelessly to guide us—guidance that was not just for the companions around him, but for us, here, today, in the depths of our struggles and confusion. He ﷺ knew the storms of identity, the chaos of false ideologies, and the emptiness of materialism that would plague our hearts. And so, he ﷺ left us with the light of his wisdom, saying: “There is nothing that draws one closer to Paradise and distances one from Hell except that I have made it clear to you.”
This is not just knowledge. It is the key to unlocking purpose in a world drowning in meaninglessness. It is the rope that pulls us from the darkness of doubt into the brilliance of certainty. His ﷺ teachings are the roadmap to our future.
But this roadmap demands action. His ﷺ knowledge was not given to be admired from afar or treated superficially—it was given as a trust. To honour his teachings is not simply to love him in words; it is to follow him in deeds. To take his guidance and transform our homes, our communities, and our hearts. Imagine the privilege of aligning our lives with the one who was closest to Allah, whose ﷺ life was the embodiment of divine wisdom. Imagine being among those who will meet him ﷺ on the Day of Judgment and say, “O Messenger of Allah, we carried your light forward.”
Let us drink from his ﷺ fountain of knowledge, live by his teachings, and let them shape our every thought and action. His ﷺ life was an unbroken chain of mercy and wisdom; let us be links in that chain. This is not just a path—it is the path, the only path, to success in this world and ultimate in the Hereafter.