M6:1477 — زانک ترک کار چون نازی بود / ناز کی در خورد جانبازی بود

Translation: For abandoning effort is a form of coyness; How can coyness befit self-sacrifice?

Meaning: Rumi here warns that merely waiting for divine grace while abandoning effort and struggle is a type of spiritual pretentiousness or egoism, fundamentally incompatible with the spirit of devotion and self-sacrifice required on the spiritual path.

In this couplet, Rumi unveils a crucial insight concerning spiritual journeying and its relationship with human will. Undoubtedly, the very essence of the mystical path is divine jadhba (attraction or pull); a sudden, unpredictable grace that calls the soul towards its Origin. Yet, Rumi immediately follows this transcendent truth by stating: "Jadhba itself is the root / But O apprentice, work! / Do not be dependent on that jadhba." This implies that while the ultimate source of attainment is divine attraction, the seeker must not abandon effort and struggle, nor adopt a passive waiting posture. This is where our beyt provides clarity.

Rumi labels the abandonment of work and inaction as nāz. Nāz here signifies coyness, affectation, and in some contexts, spiritual pride. A person who realizes the need to act but refrains—either on the pretext of awaiting divine grace, or under the delusion of being too exalted for mundane effort—is, in fact, displaying nāz. This is a misguided self-perception where the individual deems themselves beyond the necessity of striving.

In stark contrast to nāz, Rumi speaks of jānbāzī (self-sacrifice). Jānbāzī is the epitome of devotion and surrender; the seeker, with their entire being, without calculation or expectation, strives in the path of truth, offering their life and strength. These two qualities, nāz and jānbāzī, are utterly contradictory and incompatible. Nāz is a form of spiritual stinginess, where the individual is unwilling to invest from their self, whereas jānbāzī is the ultimate generosity and outpouring of one's very existence. How can one be both coy and self-sacrificing? These two cannot coexist in the same heart or domain.

I believe Rumi here explicitly condemns any form of pseudo-Sufism that shirks practical responsibilities and individual struggles under the guise of tawakkul (trust in God) and jadhba. Earlier, in his discussion of poverty, he praised faqr-i jism (poverty achieved through physical hardship and effort, not mere begging), which demonstrates the fundamental place of kār (work/effort) and johd (struggle) in his intellectual system. This perspective is not only consistent with the practical philosophy of life but also aligns with Quranic teachings on the coexistence of dhikr (remembrance of God) and fikr (contemplation). Dhikr invigorates fikr, but it never replaces action.

Rumi further reinforces this meaning with an enchanting analogy elsewhere: "When you see the dawn, then extinguish the lamp." This means that in the darkness of night, you must keep the lamp burning and continue to work, even if you do not know when the dawn will break. Only when the dawn arrives and the light of truth becomes manifest, can you extinguish the lamp of effort. But until then, the seeker's duty is to be fully present in the field of action with all their might and sincerity, never for a moment neglecting jānbāzī. This is the approach expected of a light-souled mystic and a lover of truth; not one who succumbs to coyness and inaction.

Key takeaways

• Continuous effort and struggle are prerequisites for spiritual progress, not passive waiting for divine grace.
• "Coyness" or spiritual pride (abandoning action while awaiting jadhba) is incompatible with "self-sacrifice" or devotion on the path of truth.
• Divine attraction (jadhba) is the ultimate root of attainment, but it never justifies abandoning one's duty and action.
• The true mystic strives ceaselessly, without calculation or expectation, keeping the lamp of action lit until the dawn of truth appears.