M6:1779 — عارفی پرسید از آن پیر کشیش / که توی خواجه مسن‌تر یا که ریش

Translation: A gnostic asked an old priest: / “O master, are you older, or your beard?” Meaning: Mowlana recounts an anecdote where a gnostic poses a profound question to an aging Christian priest, prompting reflection on the disparity between physical and spiritual maturity, and the distinction between internal and external change.

This verse is a gateway to a profound narrative of Mowlana, also found in Manaqib al-ʿArifin; an anecdote Mowlana himself relates in a spirit of jest and kindness with an old Christian priest. The gnostic asks the priest, “Are you older, or your beard?” The priest’s reply, which appears in the next verse, is simple and clear: “My beard is, of course, younger, for I was born years before it, and saw the world for years without a beard.”

Yet, a point far deeper than a mere conversation lies herein. Mowlana immediately turns to the priest and asks, “So your beard, which has turned white, changed, ripened, and matured, why haven't you changed?” This question is not addressed solely to that priest; rather, as I have emphasized and as Mowlana himself intended at the core of his words, it is addressed to “everyone.” It is a discourse with each of us: our lives pass, our hair turns white, our faces wrinkle, and our bodies grow frail, but has our soul transformed likewise? Has physical maturity kept pace with spiritual maturity?

Mowlana asks us to turn back to ourselves. This is not a complaint about the state of the world, but an invitation to self-knowledge, that very “principles of the principles of the principles of religion” (اصول اصول اصول الدین) which teaches us, “Who are you, O noble man?” Your beard has changed, the outward form of your life has altered, but has your inner being, the essence of your existence, progressed from rawness to ripeness? Have you moved from the state of ‘qadīd’ (dried, old meat) to ‘turk-jūsh’ (half-cooked), or even beyond, to perfection?

What is crucial here is the emphasis on inner transformation. Many presume that with the passage of time, they will automatically evolve. But Mowlana nudges us, reminding us that mere physical alteration is no guarantee of spiritual growth and maturity. The beard, in this context, symbolizes the ‘outer form’ and ‘body,’ which are subject to decay and change by nature. But ‘you,’ the primary addressee of this question, symbolize the ‘inner self’ and ‘soul,’ whose transformation demands effort, contemplation, and self-awareness. This is the very secret of ‘formlessness’ (bī-ṣūratī) that Mowlana insists upon throughout the Masnavi; that the forms of the world are but the foam of the sea, and we must transcend the foam to reach the water of the soul. Has this soul also, like the beard, changed its hue and escaped its raw state?

This anecdote, ostensibly a gentle jest, inwardly raises a foundational question whose depth is commensurate with life itself. It is a ‘wake-up call’ that Mowlana plays for our ears, much like the sound of the reed-flute which, though it narrates separations, aims not to complain, but to recount the path of return to one's origin. This question summons us to the ‘now,’ to be a ‘Sufi of the moment’ (ṣūfī-i ibn-al-waqt), so that we do not seek the opportunity for change in lost moments.

Key takeaways

• Physical maturity should not be mistaken for spiritual maturity; outward change does not guarantee inner transformation.
• Mowlana's question is addressed to 'everyone,' a universal invitation to contemplate one's inner evolution.
• The beard symbolizes the ephemeral body and transient appearance, contrasting with 'you' as the soul, which demands self-awareness and effort.
• This anecdote serves as a prompt for self-knowledge, urging us to assess our inner growth and ripeness.
• The question calls us to be a 'Sufi of the moment,' seizing the opportunity for change in the present.