M1:78 — از خدا جوییم توفیق ادب / بی‌ادب محروم گشت از لطفِ رب

Translation: From God we seek the grace of adab (proper conduct); / The one devoid of adab is deprived of the Lord's favor. Meaning: Rumi emphasizes that adab* is a divine virtue, and its absence not only harms the individual but also deprives the entire world of God's grace and blessings.

This couplet is not merely a common exhortation to good manners; it is a gateway to one of the most profound insights in the Mathnawi, an insight of unparalleled philosophical and cosmic significance. Rumi, amidst a story describing the king's decorum before the divine physician, abruptly shifts his narrative to delve into the very principle of adab (proper conduct or reverence). This is a deliberate 'deviation,' a detour taken to plumb the depths of the subject.

"From God we seek the grace of adab"; this is the initial point. Adab is not merely a matter of self-discipline achievable through sheer effort. It is a divine gift, a tawfiq (divine grace) that must be sought and prayed for. From the very outset, this elevates our perception of adab from a purely human virtue to something transcendent.

"The one devoid of adab is deprived of the Lord's favor." Deprivation from divine favor is the direct consequence of a lack of adab. Rumi illustrates this principle with various examples. Most vividly, he recounts the story of Moses's people who received manna from heaven effortlessly. Yet, because some among them demanded "where are the garlic and lentils?" — exhibiting impudence and ingratitude towards this unearned heavenly provision — that perpetual feast was withheld. Similarly, Jesus's disciples made the same mistake and were deprived of blessings. A lack of adab effectively closes the hand of divine grace.

I have previously noted that Rumi's understanding of the word adab here is profoundly deep. Its apparent meaning aligns with common notions of 'sitting respectfully in the presence of a superior.' However, its esoteric meaning is far more expansive and at times even 'repelling,' meaning it challenges our easy acceptance. The original sense of adab derives from maʾduba or māduba, signifying a banquet or a grand feast. Table manners and hospitality stem from this root. Yet, its meaning has broadened to encompass the rich idea that 'every station has its adab.' In Rumi's view, the science of ethics (ʿilm-i akhlāq) is fundamentally the science of adab for every station; it is knowing how to live and behave appropriately in relation to every situation, every person, and every truth.

But where lies the cosmic importance of adab? Rumi asserts: "The ill-mannered one not only harms himself / But sets fire to all horizons." A lack of adab is not merely an individual transgression; it ignites the world. The order of the cosmos, the universal system, the stability of the celestial spheres, and the innocence of angels are all sustained by adab. Even Satan's fall (ʿAzāzīl) from his lofty station was solely due to his 'audacity' and 'impudence'; that is, his lack of adab in the face of divine command. If the sun is eclipsed (kusūf), that too is a result of presumption. If blessings cease, if plagues fall, all of it, without exception, stems from adab's absence. This is a profound, and perhaps for some, challenging perspective on adab, elevating it from a mere social virtue to an ontological and cosmic principle. Adab, in this view, is the backbone of existence, and a lack of adab is the severance of that backbone.

Key takeaways

• Adab is not merely a behavioral rule, but a divine gift and a grace from God.
• Lack of adab leads to deprivation from divine favor and grace, with both individual and universal consequences.
• The cosmic order and the stability of existence, from angels to celestial spheres, depend on the observance of adab.
• Every 'station' and situation has its specific adab; ethics, in essence, is the science of these proper conducts.
• The fall of Iblis (Azazil) serves as the supreme example of a lack of adab in the face of divine will.