M6:2243 — چون یکی حرفی فراق سین و بیست / خامشی اینجا مهمتر واجبیست

Translation: When a matter concerns separation—a fundamental one, like the separation of 'seen' (the letter S) and 'bist' (the number twenty), intertwined yet distinct—silence here is a more vital obligation. Meaning: Rumi posits that when profound and ambiguous topics of separation and divine decree arise, choosing silence is a more crucial duty than speaking, lest words extinguish the fervor and hope in hearts.

In this verse, Rumi points to a subtle and profound truth, emanating from the self-sufficiency and restraint of a perfected mystic. The 'here' in 'silence here is a more vital obligation' refers to a station of gnosis where human speech either fails to articulate the truth, or worse, leads astray instead of guiding. As Rumi narrates the 'Poor Man and the Treasure' story, he inevitably arrives at fundamental and perilous discussions concerning divine decree and the seemingly unequal distribution of blessings and destinies. He observes that some 'branches are green' while others 'are dry,' some 'watery melons' and others 'tasteless ones.'

It is at this juncture that Rumi pauses, pulling back the reins of his discourse. Why? Because he knows well that if he were to elaborate on this intricate path of determinism and free will, the spiritual fervor and motivation he has instilled in souls would be extinguished. He does not wish for the listener to believe they are trapped in the merciless grip of fate, with no room left for action or change. He does not want to 'distort the ship of the listener's being' and pull them into despair and inertia. This silence is not born of ignorance, but of the utmost knowledge and educational solicitude of a spiritual guide. He is like a prophet who knows when to say 'qul' (speak) and when to say 'uskut' (be silent).

This silence is precisely the 'khāmūshī' (silence) that serves as Rumi's pen-name, for which I have previously outlined five reasons, including the protection of the audience from 'points as sharp as steel swords.' Some truths, if expressed without safeguard or preamble, inflict wounds instead of healing. Rumi desires the reader to be 'light-souled' and to attain 'joy' through the Masnavi, not to drown in the sorrow of divine decree and lose the 'certainty' and 'union' that the Masnavi promises.

Yet, Rumi himself cannot turn away from this 'fire of the soul' that burns 'imagination' and 'reality.' This fire is the fire of tawhid (unity) that abolishes multiplicity and draws our concept-oriented minds into the realm of formlessness. The mind creates concepts: 'This table is a thing, a body, it has dimensions...' But the fire of unity obliterates all these dimensions and concepts. 'Neither imagination nor reality finds sanctuary / From such a fire that has flared from the soul.' In this station, the lion and the fox (i.e., every duality and multiplicity) are enemies of this fire and are all annihilated, 'except His Face.' This is the Quranic view that 'Everything is perishable except His Face'; all things, even in their existence, are in a state of non-existence, and they acquire being only by turning towards God's 'Face.' This unifying truth is like the unwritten 'alif' in 'Bismillāh,' which exists in meaning but is effaced in the apparent multiplicity of form. Rumi's silence in this verse is, in fact, an invitation to transcend words, towards the formless vision of unity, where everything but His 'Face' is ephemeral.

Key takeaways

• Silence in the face of profound and perilous truths of divine decree signals maturity and the protection of spiritual fervor.
• Rumi deliberately refrains from engaging in deterministic debates to preserve hope and spiritual dynamism in hearts.
• This silence is not ignorance, but rather stems from the 'soul's fire' that consumes imagination and multiplicity-generating concepts.
• Rumi's unitarian vision leads to the annihilation of pluralistic 'imagination' and 'reality,' as all things are 'perishable except His Face.'
• Silence is a pathway to 'formlessness' and the apprehension of truths beyond linguistic and mental frameworks.
• Rumi's silence here distinguishes him from mere theologians; he is a teacher of the soul, not merely an interpreter of words.