M1:269 — گفته اینک ما بشر ایشان بشر / ما و ایشان بستهٔ خوابیم و خَور

Translation: They said: “Now, we are human, they are human; we and they are bound by sleep and food.”

Meaning: This verse addresses the human error of equating prophets and saints with ordinary people based on shared biological needs like sleep and sustenance. This superficial comparison ignores the profound inner and spiritual differences.

In the Masnavi, Rumi launches a fundamental critique that, to my mind, underlies many misunderstandings and deviations: the critique of qiyas, or analogy. This particular verse is part of that profound critique. I believe that many of humanity's troubles stem from its perpetual attempt to measure the unknown against its knowns; it seeks to gauge what possesses infinite inner richness by the limited yardsticks of outward appearance. This is a fatal fallacy that Rumi repeatedly highlights.

Rumi explicitly states, a few verses before this one:

The whole world was misled by this analogy; Few became aware of the Abdals of Truth. * They equated themselves with the prophets, And deemed the saints to be like themselves.*

Then he arrives at the verse in question:

They said: “Now, we are human (bashar), they are human (bashar); We and they are bound by sleep (khwab) and food (khor).”

This is a fallacy of perception that sees prophets and saints merely as bashar, just like ourselves, bound by khwab and khor. But this analogy, which Heidegger might term Das Man or the 'average individual,' shrouds the inner truth. Rumi asserts with conviction that this is nothing short of 'blindness' (ʿamā):

They did not understand this, due to their blindness, That there is an infinite difference between them.

The difference here is not trivial or minor, but 'infinite' (bī-muntahā). To elucidate these differences, Rumi turns to tangible examples:

Both kinds of bees fed from the same place, But from one came a sting, and from the other, honey.

Or:

Both kinds of gazelles ate grass and drank water, From one came dung, and from the other, pure musk.

Similarly, regarding reeds:

Both reeds drank from the same water source, One became hollow, and the other, sugar-filled.

The point here is that the source of nourishment and input might be identical, but each person's 'existential factory' or ṭabʿ (disposition) produces a different output. I have explained this elsewhere as well: the nature of each individual, like a filter or a factory, processes what it receives from the world in a specific way and returns it transformed. As Rumi says:

What this one consumes breeds naught but avarice and envy, What that one consumes breeds naught but the love of the One.

This is the same truth found in the Quran: "And We send down of the Quran that which is healing and mercy for the believers, but it does not increase the wrongdoers except in loss." The same word, for the believer, is healing, but for the oppressor, it only increases loss. A rice-and-kebab meal is strengthening for a healthy person, but for a patient with intestinal issues, it might be fatal. These examples show that the outcomes are not uniform; rather, they depend on the disposition and temperament of the receiver.

This is why a long life, if the ṭabʿ does not change, holds no value. As Rumi illustrates with the parable of the dung-eating crow, an extended life for a crow consuming dung merely means prolonging its filth-eating. Or the prayer of Imam Sajjad (AS) in Sahifa Sajjadiyya: "Grant me life as long as my life is expended in Your obedience, but once my life becomes a pasture for Satan, take me unto You." This indicates that longevity, in itself, is not a virtue; its quality is paramount.

The issue extends beyond this: magic and miracles, despite their superficial similarities, are distinct. Moses' staff and the magicians' staffs were both wood, yet their functions were infinitely different. The hypocrite and the believer both perform prayers, but the intention and inner reality of their acts differ vastly. Even Ahmed (the Prophet Muhammad) and Abu Jahl, seemingly both enter the idol temple, but:

This one (Abu Jahl) enters and bows his head like his people, That one (the Prophet) enters, and the idols bow to him.

This is the 'ape-like nature' (būzīneh-ṭabʿī) of the disbelievers that Rumi refers to: blind imitation of the outward, without understanding the inward. The disbelievers, who cover the truth, act ape-like in contention and debate (miraʾ, which Ghazali considered a plague on the soul), believing they have done the same thing. But this stems from a blight that penetrates the 'breast of one's nature' (sīneh-ye ṭabʿ), preventing one from recourse to reason and free will, and dictating actions based solely on one's inherent nature.

I believe Rumi's lesson here is a constant warning: do not be deceived by appearances. The differences lie not in form or physical needs, but in existential quality, in 'character' (sīrat) and 'disposition' (ṭabʿ). And these differences are so profound that one could say there is a chasm between two worlds, not merely two individuals.

Key takeaways

• Many deviations stem from equating the outward appearance of things with their inner reality; prophets should not be deemed equal to us merely due to shared human traits.
• The difference between individuals, especially saints and ordinary people, is infinite and transcends common biological needs like sleep and food.
• Identical inputs (food, water, words) can lead to entirely opposite outcomes (honey/sting, love/envy) within the different 'existential factories' (disposition and character) of individuals.
• The value of life lies in its quality and inner function; a long life accompanied by baseness and inner blindness is fruitless and detrimental.
• Merely performing the same action (like praying or entering a temple) does not indicate unity of intention or inner reality; both hypocrite and believer maintain the outward form, but the spirit of their actions differs.