There assembled before Solomon his armies of jinn and of men and of birds, and they were marching in ranks, until when they approached the Valley of the Ants, one ant said: O ants! Enter your dwellings so that Solomon and his armies not crush you while they are not aware. Surah 27:17-18.
Solomon, as heir to King David, is a prophet, a man of faith, and a king of spiritual insight. One day, he and his armies of jinn* and of men and of birds walk into a valley full of ants. So caught up in their own mission, their own duty, their own pride, they lose sight of God’s path for them, so willing and able they are to keep walking and possibly crush the ants in their ignorance and bliss.
Solomon is not paying attention until one of the ants cries out to everyone to hide: “O you ants! Get into your dwellings, lest Solomon and his armies crush you without even being aware of you!”
Solomon hears the ant’s cry and smiles “joyously at her words’” and remembers his bond with God: “My Lord! Arouse me so that I may be thankful for Your divine blessings which You have been gracious to me and my parents that I may be one who is in accord with morality;”
Solomon in all his power, stops and honors the ants’ lives. Even the littlest of the littlest can wake us up to the present moment, to our duty, and to our responsibility to all, to do “what is right.” To be aware. This parable of “The Ants” shows us that even the most insignificant being (actually there is nothing that is insignificant) can influence, even someone like Solomon in all his wisdom.
This parable reminds us to do all that we can to live as if we see God always, just as God always sees us.
*We were introduced to Iblis, a jinn, who tempted both Adam and Eve. There are many references to jinn in the Qur’an as invisible beings, sometimes signifying “intense darkness” or “those things that are concealed from our senses.” At times, jinn appear in the Qur’an as a signifier that moral or spiritual truth is descending.
~ ~ ~ ~
While visiting Nomsa in her village, I was introduced to the children who came daily to the Crèche she established. On her own, she was caring for about ten children, give or take, depending on the day, from the ages of 3-5 years old so that their parents could taxi into town for their different jobs, most of them service-oriented.
Nomsa fed the children breakfast and lunch, taught them songs, some English words, and how to color. They read stories, played math games, and wrote out letters of the alphabet. After their afternoon nap, I suggested that I teach them relay games.
I said, “We can race against each other. It will be fun!”
We were outside and while I was giving instructions with Nomsa translating, the children were laughing, yet no matter what I said, the children would not line up for relay races.
“Nomsa, why can’t we get these kids to line up?”
She said, “There’s no word in Zulu for “line up.” We don’t have words for straight lines, only for circles. I can’t seem to get them to understand what to do.”
“You’re kidding me. It can’t be that tough. Let’s give them an example.”
Nothing we did worked, even physically putting children ‘in line.’ They stayed still for a moment, but then jumped out of line to keep circling around us, with much glee.
Nomsa and I laughed.
“Jamie, circles are ingrained in us. When the missionaries came carrying in the Christ, they told us that our round houses were of the devil. That houses, both houses of worship and personal homes needed to be constructed from straight lines, because straight lines and sharp corners came from God.”
We gave up on rely races and pulled out a bucket of water and spiked it with liquid soap. We made wands out of weeds and blew circles into the wind and played with the children as they chased bubbles.
Those Christian missionaries preached from their own beliefs based on their experience, dogma, and possible indoctrination. In the midst of their boastful vying, assuming they knew God’s will, they were blind to the spiritual existence in their midst.
Words like fitra, knowing the good, mercy, ubuntu, and hope are made like round houses. Often the dominant culture wants to squeeze those round houses of hospitality and grace into their own idolizing structure or destroy them all together.
Thank God there is resistance, as natural as children’s prayerful cries of glee.
And as surprising as an ant’s challenge to a king.
Day 19: Reflection
When have you, like Solomon, been brought into a moment of awareness?
