The Metaphysics of Fasting

Abstract

This study investigates the metaphysics of fasting according to the hugely influential mystic Muhyi al-Din ibn ‘Arabi (d. 638/1240). Ibn ‘Arabi argues that fasting holds an unparalleled position in ritual worship. While his predecessor Abu Hamid al-Ghazali (d. 505/1111) in his magnum opus—The revival of the religious sciences (Ihya’ ‘ulum al-din)—addresses the ethical dimension of fasting, Ibn ‘Arabi’s concern is the metaphysical reality of it. There are six principal reasons Ibn ‘Arabi gives for fasting being superior to other forms of worship, all of which revolve around fasting’s uniqueness that adverts to the uniqueness of God: (1) Fasting is elevated because God has connected it to Himself in prophetic traditions. All other acts of worship are connected to humans. Fasting is thus elevated from the servant to God. (2) Fasting is not an action like other forms of worship; it is an inaction since it entails refraining from eating, drinking, and sexual intercourse. This makes its essence incomprehensible as it is not an entity but the lack of one. The incomprehensibility of the essential inaction of fasting connects it to the incomprehensibility of God. (3) Fasting, insofar as it displays independence from food, drink, and sexual intercourse, mirrors the divine attribute of true independence from all things (samadaniyya); (4) Fasting is described as a shield (junna) in prophetic traditions because although it is not an action in itself, the state of fasting becomes a protection against evil actions. Awareness of God (taqwa), likewise, protects against evil actions. Thus, fasting is related to God as it begets awareness of God. (5) The breath of the person who fasts, though malodourous to humans, is said to be fragrant for God by Prophet Muhammad. This ’fragrance’ is produced by the breath of the person who fasts, which adverts to the Breath of the Compassionate (nafas al-Rahman) that brings all things into existence according to Ibn ‘Arabi. (6) The people who fast shall enter heaven through the Gate of Rayyan (quenched thirst) as reported in prophetic traditions. Ibn ‘Arabi argues that the quenching of thirst represents an endpoint or ‘perfection’ (kamal) after which one does not require more drink. This ‘perfection’ (of satiation) mirrors God’s perfection. Fasting is the only form of worship that has a gate that alludes to its perfection, which demonstrates that it is unique. In all these ways, then, there is nothing like fasting, which connects it to God because there is nothing like God.

1. Introduction

The Sufi Muhyi al-Din ibn ‘Arabi (d. 638/1240) is legitimately regarded as perhaps the most influential figure in medieval Islamic intellectual history (Chittick 2019; Hirtenstein 1999; Hodgson 1960; Landau 2008; Morris 1986). As divisive as he is popular, neither his adherents nor his critics can escape the long shadow he cast (Addas [1989] 1993; Friedmann 1971; Knysh 1999; Lawson 2005). Although Ibn ‘Arabi’s most popular work is undoubtedly Fusus al-hikam (The Ringstones of Wisdom), with the number of commentaries produced on it reaching into triple figures (Yahya 1964), his most sustained analysis of metaphysical issues is found in his encyclopaedic Al-Futuhat al-Makkiyya (The Meccan Revelations), which has not garnered the same level of attention as its counterpart. Abu Zayd observes that Ibn ‘Arabi’s style in the Futuhat is markedly different to his style in the Fusus. In the latter, he is extremely terse and elliptical; in the former, he is clear and direct (Abu Zayd 2002, p. 135). It is for this reason that many scholars, like Abu’l-‘Ala’ al-‘Aifi in his edition of the Fusus, have declared the Fusus to be utterly inscrutable (Ibn ‘Arabi 2002, pp. 9–10). No doubt responding to the task of clarifying the Fusus’ lexical obscurantism, and due to its brevity, hundreds of Ibn ‘Arabi’s followers took up the challenge of clarifying Ibn ‘Arabi’s meaning in this short work (Yahya 1964). However, a cursory analysis of the output of Ibn ‘Arabi’s early followers reveals that the Futuhat was central to their understanding of the Andalusian mystic’s weltanschauung (Chodkiewicz 1992). This is because what was allusively mentioned in the Fusus was elaborated on and carefully explained in the Futuhat (Abu Zayd 2002, p. 135).

This study explores the metaphysical reality of fasting (sawm) according to Ibn ‘Arabi, as delineated in the Futuhat.1 The Futuhat has a structure that is remarkably reminiscent of the magnum opus of the other titan of Islamic intellectual history, Abu Hamid al-Ghazali (d. 505/1111). Franz Rosenthal observes that

Ibn ‘Arabi’s great immediate model was al-Ghazali. As is clear from the overall plan of the Futuhat which starts out with a thorough discussion of the meaning of the principal Muslim ritual obligations, he aspired to replacing al-Ghazali’s revival of Islam with his own renewal of it in a purer, mystical language

(Rosenthal 1988, p. 35).

Of course, Ibn ‘Arabi was not the only one to produce his own version of Ghazali’s The revival of the religious sciences (Ihya’ ‘ulum al-din); many scholars had done the same, such was the popularity of the work. Even its most vociferous critics produced their ‘corrected’ versions of it, such as Abu Bakr al-Turtushi (d. 520/1126). Nor was its influence restricted to Sunni Islam; Al-Muhsin Fayd al-Kashani (d. 1090/1679) wrote a Shi’ite version. Perhaps most surprising of all, there were even Christian versions of it, such as the one produced by Gregory Barhebreus (d. 685/1286) (Garden 2016, pp. 310–11).

The first part of the Futuhat sets out the metaphysical realities of the ritual acts of worship. Ibn ‘Arabi’s structure mimics Ghazali’s, starting with cleanliness (tahara), then prayer (salah), then obligatory charity (zakah), then fasting, and pilgrimage (hajj) (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, pp. 410–903). Much like Ghazali, Ibn ‘Arabi begins each topic with the ‘secrets’ (asrar) of that ritual act. This imparts the metaphysical reality of the action. However, Rosenthal is correct in his assertion that Ibn ‘Arabi adopts a more ‘mystical’ and metaphysical approach than his predecessor. This is because Ghazali’s project in the Ihya’ has largely been misunderstood or mischaracterised, or both, as Kenneth Garden argues,

The Revival is not a work of Sufism. What al-Ghazālī consistently advocates in it is rather what he calls the Science of the Hereafter (‘ilm al-ākhira). He does not declare himself a Sufi in that book …. When he does write about the Sufis, it is as a third party, and he states explicitly that Sufism is not an obligatory science, while the Science of the Hereafter is. It is true that much of the content of the Revival is derived from classical works of Sufism. … But central features of the book are derived from philosophy, especially its soteriology, ethical psychology, and theory of virtue

(Garden 2014, p. 10).

Ghazali’s chapter on fasting proves Garden’s assertion by demonstrating that, unlike Ibn ‘Arabi, his main purpose is not to reveal the inner reality of fasting, but instead to expound the underlying virtue of it.

2. The Secrets of Fasting According to Ghazali

Ibn ‘Arabi expounds the metaphysical realities of fasting in chapter seventy-one of the Futuhat. Even though he cites many of the same prophetic traditions (ahadith, sing. hadith) as Ghazali, it is clear from the outset that Ibn ‘Arabi’s focus is different. Ghazali makes it extremely plain that by the ‘secrets’ of fasting, he refers to the moral virtue and ethical principle that forms the basis of fasting: patience (Ghazali 2005, p. 273).2 He begins,

Surely, fasting is a quarter (rub‘) of faith (iman) according to his [Muhammad’s], peace be on him, saying, ‘Fasting is half of patience (sabr)’, and according to his, peace be on him, saying, ‘Patience is half of faith’

(Ghazali 2005, p. 273).3

Ghazali, thus, makes patience the primary ‘secret’ of fasting.4 He finds Qur’anic support for this in Q39:10 which states, ‘Those who are patient will be given a reward beyond measure’. Citing this verse twice, Ghazali explains that

The reward for a person who fasts is given in full and it is mentioned in vague terms so it does not fall under what is imagined (wahm) or calculated (taqdir). It is fitting for it to be thus since fasting is only for Him [God] and is honoured by its association with Him, even though all acts of worship are for Him, just as the House [Ka‘ba] is honoured by its association with Him

(Ghazali 2005, p. 274).

As the reward for patience is left unspecified in the Qur’an, just as the reward for fasting is left unspecified in the prophetic tradition, it demonstrates that fasting will be rewarded beyond one’s imagination and ability to count.

Ghazali acknowledges the explicit connection of fasting to God in the prophetic tradition in which God says, ‘Every good deed shall be rewarded tenfold, up to seven hundred times except fasting, for it is for Me and I shall requite it’, which is also of central importance for Ibn ‘Arabi (see below) (Ghazali 2005, p. 273). He concedes that this means fasting holds an elevated rank in the religion, just as the Ka‘ba holds an elevated rank through its connection to God, since it is called ‘the House of God’, but for him this is due to its being a basis for and a manifestation of the main virtue of patience. He writes,

Fasting is refraining (kaff) and abstaining (tark), and it is in itself a secret as it does not entail an action that is seen. All acts of obedience to God are things that are witnessed and seen by people while fasting is not seen by anyone but God, the Mighty, the Majestic, as it is an act that is hidden with absolute patience (al-sabr al-mujarrad)

(Ghazali 2005, p. 274).

Since fasting entails ‘refraining’ and ‘abstaining’ from food, drink, and sexual intercourse, and is therefore not an action that can be observed but an inaction, it is explicitly connected to God because no one besides God knows about it. Ibn ‘Arabi, too, underscores this unique quality of fasting, but for him it holds an entirely different meaning (see below). Ghazali brings this connection back to patience, articulating that as the act of fasting remains hidden to everyone but God, it displays ‘absolute patience’, which is what is rewarded beyond measure.

Ghazali then turns his attention to the delineation of the levels of fasting,

Know that fasting has three levels: the fast of lay people (sawm al-‘umum), the fast of the elect (sawm al-khusus), and the fast of the elect from the elect (sawm khusus al-khusus). As for the fast of lay people, it is refraining of the stomach and the private parts from satisfying their desires …. As for the fast of the elect, it is refraining of hearing, sight, the tongue, the hand, the foot, and all the limbs from sins. And as for the fast of the elect from the elect, it is the fast of heart (sawm al-qalb) from base determinations (al-himam al-daniyya) and worldly thoughts (al-afkar al-dunyawiyya), and their completely abstaining from anything besides God, the Mighty, the Majestic. This fast is voided by thinking of anything besides God, the Mighty, the Majestic, and the Last Day, and by thinking of this world, except if it is thinking of this world for the sake of religion, in which case it is from the provisions of the hereafter and not of this world

(Ghazali 2005, p. 277).5

Ghazali’s solicitude for the different classes of people is evident here. He talks about the lowest class of fasting, reserved for layfolk, that simply denotes following the basic letter of the law. Then he moves on to the spiritual elite who add abstinence from all disobedience of God to the basic restrictions of fasting. Finally, there is the highest level, which he calls ‘the fast of the heart’, that requires unwavering contemplation of God and the hereafter. By delineating this nested hierarchy, it is clear that Ghazali wants his audience to graduate from the basic level to the fast of the heart. One of the most conspicuous features of Ghazali in his corpus is his acute cognisance of his audience. Ghazali’s ‘restricted corpus’, earmarked for his elite disciples, for instance, bears testimony to the attention he paid to different levels of believers (Garden 2014, p. 7). In this section, Ghazali wants his audience to progress from the letter of the law to the higher purpose of pure focus on God, which is what Garden calls ‘the science of praxis’. This forms part of the ‘Science of the Hereafter’ that is the primary objective of the Ihya’, as opposed to Sufism (Garden 2014). It is noteworthy that Ghazali in no way denigrates the lowest level of the letter of the law; in his insistence that ‘the fast of the elect from the elect’ is voided by ‘thinking of anything besides God’, Ghazali simply underscores that the highest level of fast is not achieved without unwavering focus on God. This has no bearing on the legal legitimacy of the fast, which remains intact.

Ibn ‘Arabi’s purpose is different: it is to reveal the metaphysical reality of fasting, which makes his work far more mystical in its orientation (Rosenthal 1988). Further, even though arguably a more conspicuous pedagogical concern is present in the Futuhat than in the Ihya’, as demonstrated by Ibn ‘Arabi’s exhaustive presentation of all the legal issues pertaining to fasting (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., pp. 728–95), the different levels of believers are not addressed. This is due to the fact that Ibn ‘Arabi does not pitch his works to the uninitiated but saves them for the spiritual elite (‘Afifi 1963, p. 403; De Cillis 2014, p. 168; Lala 2019). The deep concern he displays for the issues related to fasting (and other forms of worship) must be seen as an example of his commitment to orthopraxy, which for him is nothing but the outward manifestation of the metaphysical realities he is expounding. It is for this reason that Ibn ‘Arabi never neglects the literal letter of scripture and his ‘intensely esoteric hermeneutic of the Qur’an [and prophetic traditions] is often strictly in line with the literal sense of the text’ (Mayer 2008, p. 283).

All the trouble Ibn ‘Arabi goes to in order to expound the orthopraxy of ritual obligation is only because, as William Chittick points out, the deepest revelations, of which the Futuhat is a corollary, are only attained when one disciplines oneself ‘according to the norms of the Shari‘a’ (Chittick 1989, p. xii). There is thus no dichotomy, at least for Ibn ‘Arabi, between deep metaphysical realities of ritual obligation and formal orthopraxy; the latter is a conduit for the former. Ibn ‘Arabi explains that this is the difference between the prophets and the saints, for even as both are afforded deep metaphysical realities through ritual worship, the prophets institute the rulings while the saints only follow them:

God has locked the door of angelic descent with Shari‘ite rulings, but He has not locked the door of descent with knowledge of these rulings into the hearts of His friends. He has made the spiritual descent with knowledge of the rulings subsist for them so that they may stand upon insight [Q12:108] in their calling to God through the rulings, as do those who follow after the Messenger

(Chittick 1998, p. 278).

3. The Secrets of Fasting According to Ibn ‘Arabi

Ibn ‘Arabi begins by providing a definition of fasting: ‘Know, may God help you, that fasting is abstinence (imsak) and elevation (raf‘)’ (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., 1:725). Immediately, we see the difference in focus between Ghazali and Ibn ‘Arabi, for the Andalusian does not just give the mundane definition of fasting, but also the mystical definition. While abstinence is the physical act, and is explained by Ghazali as well, elevation is the metaphysical meaning of it, which Ghazali does not mention. Further, it is the latter that Ibn ‘Arabi proceeds to explain, not the physical act of fasting, as it is the mystical aspect that constitutes his primary concern. ‘It is said, “the day is high (sama)”, when it is elevated’ (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., 1:725). Of great importance is the fact that Ibn ‘Arabi mentions two of the three denotations of sawm that one of the most well-known lexicographers in the Arabic language, Abu’l-Fadl ibn Manzur (d. 711/1311?), later mentions:

• Abstention, which, when it is from food, drink, and sexual intercourse, takes on the technical, religious meaning of fasting.
• Elevation, as in ‘the day reached its highpoint’ (sama al-nahar), when it reaches the afternoon, or ‘the Sun has reached its highpoint at midday’.
• Tranquillity or calmness, like the calmness of an animal after it has discarded what bothers it (Ibn Manzur n.d., p. 2530).6

The last denotation (of tranquillity or calmness) is also referenced by Ibn ‘Arabi later in his exposition (see below). The careful attention paid to the etymology of the term is a characteristic feature of Ibn ‘Arabi. The Sufi connects the metaphysical to the literal through his focus on all the possible denotations of terms, thereby being at once esoteric and literal. Indeed, for him, there is no separation between the two: the esoteric is embedded within the literal, and a fundamental part of the meaning (Mayer 2008, p. 283; Morris 1987, p. 9; Sands 2006, p. 41).

Ibn ‘Arabi then explains why fasting is ‘elevated’, stating that God raised fasting through ‘rejection of likeness’ (nafy al-mithliyya) to any other form of worship (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 725). This constitutes the central premise of Ibn ‘Arabi’s argument in the same way as patience is the central premise of Ghazali’s. Ibn ‘Arabi associates the ‘rejection of likeness’ of fasting in the prophetic tradition with the rejection of likeness, or transcendence, of God as delineated in Q42:11 when it is proclaimed, ‘There is nothing like Him [God]’. The incomparability of God is reflected in the incomparability of fasting. Ibn ‘Arabi lays out all the ways in which fasting is entirely unique amongst all other forms of worship in order to make his point. In what follows, we shall interrogate all the ways in which Ibn ‘Arabi argues fasting is unique. Yet what is clear is that Ibn ‘Arabi’s focus is completely metaphysical, as opposed to Ghazali’s, which is ethical.

3.1. Fasting Is Connected to God

Ibn ‘Arabi explains that the denotation of elevation implicit in the term ‘fasting’ has a metaphysical reason that elevates fasting above all other forms of worship. He writes,

Since fasting is elevated above all other forms of worship in rank, it is called ‘fasting’ (sawm). He, be he Exalted, elevated it through the rejection of likeness of it to all other forms of worship…. He [God] took it away (salabah) from His servants—even though they worship Him through it—and attributed it to Himself, be He praised. He rewards the one who is characterised by it by His hand from His generosity, and He associated it with Himself in the rejection of its likeness

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 725).

Fasting is elevated because it is unlike any other form of worship, just as God is unlike anything else. It is for this reason that it is connected directly to God and not to the person performing the action. In making this assertion, Ibn ‘Arabi is referring to the famous prophetic tradition that Ghazali also cites in which God proclaims that every action is for humankind except fasting, which is for Him and He requites it (see above). Ibn ‘Arabi highlights the connection of fasting to God by personalising the reward that is given for it, stating that God rewards it ‘by His hand from His generosity’. He underscores that it is entirely unique for an action not to be attributed to the agent who performs it; fasting is the only action that fits into this category, highlighting its uniqueness that is emblematic of God’s uniqueness.

Ibn ‘Arabi finds further proof of the unique connection of fasting to God in another tradition that says, ‘For the fasting person are two joys (farhatan) in which they take delight: when they break their fast, they take delight in breaking their fast; and when meet their Lord, the Mighty, the Majestic, they take delight in their fast’ (Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 726). The joy of breaking the fast is connected to the joy of meeting God because the fast is connected to God. Ibn Arabi offers a metaphysical exegesis of this tradition:

They [the person who fasts] see Him with it [the fast]; they are therefore the seer (al-ra’i) and what it seen (al-mar’i). This is why he [Prophet Muhammad], peace be upon him, said, ‘they take delight in their fast’, and he did not say, ‘they take delight in meeting their Lord’, for joy does not take delight in itself, it takes delight with it. And whoever’s sight is God when they see Him and witness Him, they only see themselves in seeing Him

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 726).

Ibn ‘Arabi equates the experience of fasting with the experience of seeing God due to the connection between fasting and God. Therefore, when a person fasts, they take delight in the fast and this is the delight of seeing God.

Ibn ‘Arabi argues that the person who fasts is both the seer and the seen. In this, he refers to the prophetic tradition in which God proclaims that His servant can get so close to Him that ‘I am their hearing with which they hear, their sight with which they see, their hand with which they grasp, their foot with which they walk’ (Bukhari 2001, vol. 8, p. 105; Ibn Hibban 1988, vol. 2, p. 58). Ibn ‘Arabi is very fond of this tradition, mentioning it numerous times in this work and even in his brief Fusus (Ibn ‘Arabi 2002, pp. 107, 146). This divine proximity, in which God is the faculties of His servant, manifests most pellucidly in fasting due to its connection to God. In the state of fasting, then, a person becomes most vividly cognisant that all existents are a manifestation of the divine Names. A person who becomes this close to God ‘sees God in everything’ (Qashani 2005, p. 536). This is why the person is the seer and the seen because they become aware that all things, including and especially themselves, are loci of divine manifestation, so ‘they only see themselves in seeing Him’. Ibn ‘Arabi refers to his favourite tradition here, ‘Whoever knows themselves, knows their Lord’, which he mentions around eighty times in the Futuhat. It is only through knowing the metaphysical reality of ourselves that we know the reality of the divine.

Ibn ‘Arabi then articulates how fasting inculcates this awareness of God as the metaphysical substratum that underpins reality:

The person who fasts takes delight in attaining the rank of ‘rejection of likeness’. They take delight in breaking their fast in the world in terms of giving the animalistic spirit (al-nafs al-hayawaniyya)—which in its essence (dhat) craves food—its right. So when the knower (‘arif) sees that the animalistic soul requires food, and they see that it improves by the nourishment it is given, they fulfil its [the animalistic spirit’s] right that God has made incumbent on them and raised to the station of the attribute of ‘a right’. Thus, they give by the hand of God, just as they see God when they meet Him through the eye of God, which is why they take delight in breaking their fast like they take delight in their fast when they meet their Lord

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 276).

The food that is given to the animalistic spirit—which is responsible for the physical desires of food, drink, and sex—satisfies it. On the mundane level, this seems like simply fulfilling the desires of the body. However, the spiritual elite, or the knowers of spiritual reality, see that this, too, is a manifestation of the divine Names, just as they themselves are when they satisfy this need for food. Therefore, ‘they give by the hand of God’, realising that they are part of this divinity, and when they meet their Lord, there is a sense of familiarity. Ibn ‘Arabi expresses this as ‘attaining the rank of “rejection of likeness”’. In other words, in the realisation that they are manifesting the divine Names in all their actions, the spiritual elite become fully aware that God is completely transcendent. It is this expression of incomparability-through-immanence that is the hallmark of divine apophasis according to Ibn ‘Arabi (see below, Kars 2013, p. 173).

3.2. Fasting Is Inaction

Unlike Ghazali, who argues that because fasting is not an action that is seen, it is emblematic of ‘absolute patience’ (see above), Ibn ‘Arabi explores the metaphysical consequences of this. Again, this difference in emphasis throws into sharp relief the difference between Ghazali’s ethical approach on the one hand and Ibn ‘Arabi’s metaphysical one on the other. Ibn ‘Arabi explains that fasting

is, in reality, abstaining (tark), and not an ‘action’ (amal). The rejection of likeness is a negative attribute (na‘a salbi); thus, the connection between it and God is reinforced. God, the Exalted, says about Himself, there is nothing like Him (Q42:11), so He rejected that there is anything like Him. Therefore, He, be He praised, has no like [as proven] by intellectual and religious proofs (dalala ‘aqliyya wa shar‘iyya). Al-Nasa’i reports on the authority of Abu Umama who said, ‘I came to the Messenger of God, peace be upon him, and said, “Command me to perform something that I can take [directly] from you”. He replied, “You have to fast, for there is nothing like it (la mithl lah)”’

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, 725–26).

Like Ghazali, Ibn ‘Arabi mentions that fasting is not an action. But unlike his predecessor, he argues that because fasting is an inaction, or a negative action, it connects it to the negative attribute of God’s incomparability. God’s incomparability, or transcendence, is known both through logical proofs and religious ones. The logical proof that is known intellectually is the clear difference between an inaction, like fasting, and an action, like all other forms of worship. The religious proofs are Q42:11, which states there is nothing like Him, and the prophetic tradition that declares that there is nothing like fasting. Thus, the incomparability of both God and fasting is known religiously as well.

Ibn ‘Arabi then delves deeper into the metaphysical reality of fasting, on the basis of which it is connected to God. He remarks,

Whoever knows that it [fasting] is a negative quality (wasf salbi), as it entails refraining from those things that break the fast (muftirat), knows categorically that there is nothing like it because it has no essence (‘ayn) that can be described as having an existence (wujud) which is comprehended. This is why God said, ‘it is for Me’, for it is, in reality, not a form of worship (‘ibada) nor an action. If it is given the epithet of ‘action’ that is permissible, just as giving the epithet of ‘existent’ (mawjud) to the God that is comprehensible to us is permissible, even though the attribution of existence to He whose existence is the same as His essence does not resemble the attribution of existence to us because there is nothing like Him

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, pp. 725–26).

On account of being an inaction, fasting does not have an ‘essence’ that has an existence which is comprehensible, according to Ibn ‘Arabi, since it is a lack of existence and not the presence of it. This connects it with God, who also does not have an existence that is comprehensible. Yet fasting is categorised as an ‘action’ in the same way as God is said to have ‘existence’. In both these cases, the categorisation, though technically inaccurate, is permissible due to linguistic expediency. Nevertheless, God’s existence is entirely different to our existence and so the application of the same term for both is, strictly speaking, imprecise. Ibn ‘Arabi’s language here is remarkably reminiscent of Maimonides (d. 600/1204), who, as Catarina Belo writes, believed that

there is no relation between him [God] and the world because nothing can be said of him in the same way that it is said of the world and its substances. Not even ‘existence’ can be predicated of humans as it is of God. Existence can solely be said of man and God by way of absolute equivocation

(Belo 2008, p. 126).

Despite the superficial similarity, however, the type of apophasis that Ibn ‘Arabi offers is entirely distinct from that of Maimonides. This is due to Maimonides’ championing of the asymmetric approach to language that is rooted in the Neoplatonic tradition (Kars 2013). In this approach, Maimonides prioritises apophasis to kataphasis and argues that it is only in the consistent and continual use of negative attributes that we approach God (Kars 2013, pp. 268–69; Maimonides 2008, pp. 140–41). Ibn ‘Arabi, on the other hand, conveys the apophasis of God through symmetrical language that casts aside the principle of non-contradiction and expresses that God is unknowable through the paradox of simultaneous, radical transcendence and immanence, as Aydogan Kars explains when he states that Ibn ‘Arabi

proceeds with real paradoxes if analyzed by a non-dialectical propositional logic. From the lens of absolute imminence, there is nothing but the manifestation of God. From the lens of transcendence, on the other hand, the Absolute remains infinitely hidden in those very appearances (not as the invisible veiled behind the visible, but as the invisible of the visible). Apophasis and kataphasis are symmetrical and intertwined in this approach; they constitute a ‘p and–p’ structure together

(Kars 2013, p. 173).

Ibn ‘Arabi takes both transcendence and immanence to their respective logical endpoints. In the case of the former, transcendence undermines its very claims to incomparability and negates itself. For the latter, every existent is a locus of manifestation of the divine. In other words,

Attempts to declare God free of any limitation whatsoever, in fact, limit him by this very declaration, by nonlimitation. This difficulty cannot be evaded by moving away from tanzih just as declarations of transcendence limit God, so, too, do affirmations of immanence

(Sharify-Funk and Rory-Dickson 2013, p. 152).

The fundamental problem that besets all declarations about God, whether they are affirmations of transcendence or immanence, is that God is so utterly apophatic according to Ibn ‘Arabi that not only can He not be compared to anything in any meaningful way, but He cannot be contrasted against anything because that, too, postulates a kernel of commonality against which God is juxtaposed. The entire endeavour, then, is seeking to escape the limitations of language through language itself, which is why the only recourse one has is to paradox (Sells 1994, p. 22).

The reason Ibn ‘Arabi gives for the radical incomparability of God is that ‘He whose existence is the same as His essence does not resemble the attribution of existence to us’. Put otherwise, because God’s existence is the same as His essence, and that is not the case for us, the term ‘existent’ cannot have the same denotation in both cases. Ibn ‘Arabi clearly refers to Abu ‘Ali ibn Sina’s (d. 428/1027) ‘Demonstration of the Truthful’ (Burhan al-siddiqin) here (Lala and Alwazzan 2023). Ibn Sina argues that God is ‘necessarily existent’ (wajib al-wujud) because His essence is His existence. This means that God is not contingent on anything else to bring His essence into existence as His essence itself guarantees His existence. In contradistinction, all other things that exist have an essence that may or may not have existed as their essence is compatible with existence, but in order for them to exist, they are contingent on something that preponderates them to exist by adding existence to their essence (Lala and Alwazzan 2023; Lizzini 2003). Since these two modalities of existence are entirely different—the first being necessarily existent, the second being only contingently so—the term ‘existent’ cannot be accurately applied to both in the same way, even though Ibn ‘Arabi allows the use of such language for convenience.

The connection this has to fasting is that, since fasting ‘has no essence (‘ayn) that can be described as having an existence (wujud)’, it is radically unlike all other actions, in the same way as God is unlike all other existents. Thus, because fasting is not an ‘action’ but an inaction, even though it is casually described as an ‘action’, its essence—which is of non-existence—cannot be described as the essence of actions. Similarly, God is casually described as existent in the same way as humans, even though His essence (which is to exist) is completely different to ours. Fasting, as is evident from this, has a unique connection to God because it most perspicuously manifests God’s transcendence as a form of worship.

3.3. Fasting Is Independence (Samadaniyya)7

Ibn ‘Arabi then explores the metaphysical implications of fasting as emblematic of the divine attribute of true independence. He writes,

After the servant [of God] is described as ‘one who has a fast’ and has a right to be called ‘fasting’, and their fast is affirmed, God takes it away from them and ascribes it to Himself when He says, ‘except fasting, for it is for Me’. This means that the attribute of independence, which is transcendence from nourishment (tanzih ‘an al-ghidha’), is not for anyone but Me. If I have described you as having it, I have only done so in a restricted sense of transcendence (taqyid al-tanzih), not in terms of absolute transcendence (itlaq al-tanzih) that befits My majesty. [God then says], ‘I will requite it’, so God will requite the fast of the person who keeps it when they return to Him by an attribute that is not like any other, which is the fast [itself] because He who is incomparable is only seen by someone who is incomparable

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 726).

Ibn ‘Arabi articulates that fasting is entirely unique because after the person who carries out the act of fasting acquires the epithet of ‘fasting’ due to their legitimate execution of the act, that act is taken away from them and given to God. This is due to the fact that fasting, insofar as it displays independence from food, drink, and sexual desires, mirrors the divine attribute of true independence from all things (samadaniyya/samadiyya). Khalil notes Ibn ‘Arabi’s emphasis on this aspect of the fast:

[S]ince the fast involves … withholding from oneself what nourishes the natural constitution of the body, it allows the one who fasts to participate, commensurate to her own level of existence, in God’s own independence, in his quality of ṣamadiyya and therefore, paradoxically, in divine transcendence (tanzīh). When the faster forgoes food and drink, thereby overcoming the most elemental desire of the body, she becomes divine-like through a participation in God’s freedom from material nourishment, since after all he neither eats nor drinks

(Khalil 2021, p. 581).

Ibn ‘Arabi argues that even though the action is carried out by the person, due to its manifestation of this divine attribute, God ascribes it to Himself. He is quick to qualify this by stating that naturally in humans this independence is in a restricted sense whereas in God it is absolute. Nevertheless, the fact that fasting manifests this divine attribute connects it with God in a way that no other form of worship does. This is why the person who fasts will be rewarded for the fast by an incomparable reward because it manifests the incomparable divine attribute of true independence, or as Khalil states, ‘the reward that God has in store for the fast transcends human imagination because the act itself transcends acts, and because it involves the assumption of a divine quality, in this case that of transcendence through ṣamadiyya’ (Khalil 2021, p. 581).

The difference in emphasis between Ibn ‘Arabi and Ghazali is again seen here because while Ghazali also mentions the attribute of independence (samadiyya), and the connection fasting has to it, he mainly attributes it to the angels:

Know that exoteric jurists (fuqaha’ al-zahir) establish ostensible conditions predicated on proofs that are weaker than these proofs that we have adduced about inner (batin) conditions …. As for the scholars of the hereafter (‘ulama’ al-khira), they mean by ‘soundness’ (sihha) acceptance, and by ‘acceptance’ that which reaches its objective. They understand the objective of fasting to be being outfitted with one of the attributes of God (takhalluq bi khulq min akhlaq Allah), the Mighty, the Majestic, and that is independence (samadiyya), and emulating the angels in refraining from desires (shahawat) as much as possible for they are pure of desires. Humankind has a rank above the rank of animals due to its capacity to overpower its desires by the light of the intellect (nur al-‘aql), but it does not reach the rank of the angels in [completely] conquering desires. … Therefore, the angels have been given proximity to God, the Mighty, the Majestic, and whoever emulates them and imitates their manners gets close to God, the Mighty, the Majestic, like them. … and closeness in this sense is not spatial, but in terms of attributes

(Ghazali 2005, p. 279).

As Garden argues, it is the ‘Science of the Hereafter’ that Ghazali is interested in, as attested by his juxtaposition of the ‘exoteric jurists’ with the ‘scholars of the hereafter’ (Garden 2014, p. 10). While this outlook is inspired by Sufi works, it is not equivalent to them, and, in many ways, represents the halfway house between exotericism and esotericism. The careful tightrope that Ghazali treads is evident in his analysis of the secrets of fasting. Much like Ibn ‘Arabi, Ghazali states that the aim of fasting is for a person to be ‘outfitted with one of the attributes of God … and that is independence’. However, he does not pursue this like Ibn ‘Arabi, instead focusing on fasting as an emulation of the angels. He categorises humankind as occupying the middling position between animals, who are entirely driven by their desires, and angels, who are entirely ‘pure of desires’. In order to attain the divine proximity that the angels enjoy, humankind must imitate the angels as much as possible. Ghazali mentions that every time a person gives in to their desires, they act as animals and move further away from God. Conversely, every time they tame their desires, they imitate the angels and move closer to God (Ghazali 2005, p. 279). Again, this demonstrates that Ghazali’s main purpose in the Ihya’ is ‘the science of praxis’ (Garden 2014), unlike Ibn ‘Arabi, who explores the inner aspect of religion.

3.4. Fasting Is a Shield (Junna)

Ibn ‘Arabi subsequently investigates the tradition in which Prophet Muhammad says that ‘fasting is a shield (junna)’. He writes,

His [Prophet Muhammad’s] saying, ‘fasting is a shield’ [means] it is a protection (wiqaya), like His [God’s] saying, ‘be mindful of God’ (wa’ttaqu Allah) (Q2:282), meaning, ‘take Him as a protection’ and ‘be a protection for Him’. So He [God] put fasting in His place in [providing] protection, and there is nothing like Him. Fasting, likewise, has no like from among the acts of worship. It is not said about fasting that there is no thing like it, for a ‘thing’ is a positive or an existent entity while fasting is refraining, so it is intellectually non-existent and a negative attribute. Thus, there is no equivalent to it, not that there is no thing like it, and this is the difference between the description of God in terms of negating likeness [to Him] and fasting

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 726).

Prophet Muhammad described fasting as a shield that protects against sins because a person who is in a state of hunger and thirst for the sake of God would be less likely to commit sins. There is therefore a connection between the state of fasting and the Qur’anic command to ‘be mindful of God’, argues Ibn ‘Arabi. This is because to be mindful of God, or have taqwa (as the verb suggests), is to be protected from sinful actions. Taqwa is mentioned in the Qur’an over 250 times, making it one of the most significant terms in the sacred text (Esposito 2003, pp. 314–15). Although it is usually thought to be fear of God, Toshihiko Izutsu explains that it is more accurate to describe it as a ‘reverent awe’ of God that becomes the ‘determining motive of all conduct’ (Izutsu 2002, p. 53). Put otherwise, taqwa becomes a protection against evil actions because the awe of God dictates the actions one will carry out. Fasting fulfils that same function when it becomes a shield against committing evil actions. Ibn ‘Arabi suggests that even though fasting is non-existent, in the sense that it is not an action but inaction, it dictates the actions one carries out while they are in a state of fasting. In other words, the state of fasting becomes a substrate for other actions that are executed because it cultivates a state of awareness of God. Taqwa is also awareness that determines conduct. In that sense, fasting is a surrogate for the awareness of God.

The awe of God protects against evil deeds in the same way as fasting. However, Ibn ‘Arabi, rather uniquely, alludes to the reciprocity inherent in taqwa when he explains that not only is it taking God ‘as a protection’, but also to ‘be a protection for Him’. This is because when the saints achieve the rank of the Perfect Human (Al-Insan al-kamil) and they manifest all the divine Names (Harris 1989; Murata 1992), their faculties become a locus of divine manifestation through which the divine Names are preserved (Ibn ‘Arabi 2002, p. 112), which is why God describes Himself as being the faculties of His servant in the prophetic tradition (see above, Ibn ‘Arabi 2002, pp. 107, 146). Nevertheless, even though fasting takes the place of God in terms of protecting one against committing sins, there are limits to the similarity between the two because fasting is non-existent unlike God who is ever-existent. Ibn ‘Arabi affirms that, strictly speaking, it is incorrect to assert that there is no thing like fasting because that would imply that fasting itself is a ‘thing’ when it is ‘non-existent and a negative attribute’. Hence, it is more appropriate to claim that fasting has no equivalent, as opposed to God: there is no thing like God because God Himself is an existent entity.

Ibn ‘Arabi then gives an example of how fasting acts as a shield against sins. He writes,

The Lawgiver (shari‘) prohibited the person who fasts [from certain actions], and prohibition is refraining [from something] and a negative attribute, so he said, ‘they should not utter lewd speech nor yell’. Thus, he [Prophet Muhammad] did not command them to perform an action; rather, he prohibited them from being categorised as having performed certain actions. Fasting is refraining [from something], so the connection between fasting and what he prohibited the person fasting from doing is legitimate. Further, he commanded them to say to the person who insults them or fights against them, ‘I am fasting’, that is, ‘I am refraining from performing the action that you are performing …’, thereby purifying themselves from this action, by God’s command

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 726).

Prophet Muhammad, the Lawgiver, defined fasting in terms of what a person is not allowed to do in a state of fasting. Ibn ‘Arabi elaborates that fasting is not just refraining from eating, drinking, and fulfilling sexual desires, which is the legal definition of what constitutes the fast; it is also refraining from speaking lewdly or shouting, as Prophet Muhammad declares. This passage is reminiscent of Ghazali’s second tier in the hierarchy of fasts, or the fast of the spiritual elite, who do not say anything they are not meant to whilst fasting (Ghazali 2005, p. 277). However, unlike Ghazali, Ibn ‘Arabi’s purpose is not ethical here, but to reveal the metaphysical reality of the fast as a basis of inaction through which it is uniquely connected to God. This purpose becomes apparent in his analysis of Prophet Muhammad’s command to tell a person who fasts to inform someone who insults them or fights against them about their fast thereby disconnecting from them and connecting with God. The person who fasts becomes ‘purified’ of, or transcends, the human act of insulting and fighting (it is significant that Ibn ‘Arabi uses the verbal form of the same term as the one for God’s transcendence, nazzaha), and connects with God through the inaction of fasting. The transcendence of the person fasting is a manifestation of God’s transcendence through the transcendent inaction of fasting. It is this metaphysical reality of fasting that Ibn ‘Arabi wishes to impart.

3.5. Fasting Is Fragrant

The smell emanating from the mouth of a person who fasts, which is emphasised in prophetic traditions, has immense metaphysical significance for Ibn ‘Arabi,

He [Prophet Muhammad], peace be upon him, took an oath by the remnants (khuluf) from the mouth of the person who fasts, and that is the change in the smell from the mouth, which cannot occur except through breathing. They [the person who fasts] breathe out this goodly speech that they are commanded to, and that is their saying, ‘I am fasting’. This speech, and every breath of the person who fasts, is most delightful on the Day of Resurrection, a day when humankind will stand before the Lord of the worlds (Qur’an 83:6), in Allah’s eyes. He [Prophet Muhammd] used the comprehensive Name (Al-Ism al-jami‘) that is categorised as [encompassing] all the Names; he, therefore, used the Name that has no like, since no one besides God, be He praised, is called by this Name. The connection with fasting, which [also] has no like, is thus established

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 727).

Prophet Muhammad’s taking an oath ‘of the remnants … from the mouth of the person who fasts’ shows the metaphysical significance of it. Ibn ‘Arabi draws a connection between the smell that comes from the mouth of a person who fasts and breathing, when he declares that the smell ‘cannot occur except through breathing’. Breathing, then, is the source of the smell, which is the source of divine pleasure. Ibn ‘Arabi intimates that there is a relation between the breath of the person who fasts and ‘the breath of the Compassionate’ (nafas al-Rahman) that is the vehicle through which God’s mercy of existentiation is emitted to the cosmos (Izutsu 2005, p. 132). The mercy of God that brings all things into existence in the phenomenal world comes from this breath, which is ‘the ontological process by which the divine Names become actualized in the forms of the world. This is the birth of the world as the whole of outwardly existent beings’ (Izutsu 2005, p. 132). The divine breath of existentiation, thus, is the breath of ontological mercy that is mirrored in the breath of a person who fasts as it evokes divine mercy whilst at the same time being a product of ontological mercy. There seems to be a particular connection between the breath of the person fasting and the breath of the Compassionate because the fragrance emanating from the mouth of the person who fasts is reflected in the product of the breath of the Compassionate. Ibn ‘Arabi alludes to this in his Fusus when he avers that ‘in women are the fragrances of creation’ since they have the capacity to bear children (Ibn ‘Arabi 2002, p. 220). Fragrance and existentiating mercy are therefore intimately connected.

This breath of mercy is equated with God’s ‘breathing out’ the divine command of ‘Be!’ (kun) that brings all things into existence (Izutsu 2005, p. 132) in the same way as the person who fasts breathes out the phrase ‘I am fasting’, which is ‘most delightful’ to God. This speech completes the metaphysical circle of being created by divine mercy and creating divine mercy. According to Bali Efendi, the divine breath of existentiation is identical with the divine command of ‘Be!’ (Izutsu 2005, p. 132). Ibn ‘Arabi makes a connection here by identifying the breath of the person who fasts with their phrase ‘I am fasting’.

Ibn ‘Arabi then turns his attention to the fact that Prophet Muhammad used the Name ‘Allah’ in this tradition. This has metaphysical significance. The Name ‘Allah’ is the most comprehensive Name as it encompasses all the other divine Names. It therefore has no equivalent, as nothing besides God can be called by this Name. Toshihiko Izutsu observes that ‘Allah’ is ‘the highest focus-word in the Qur’anic system, which is surpassed by no other word in rank and importance’ (Izutsu 2008, p. 100). ‘Allah’, as the primary referent for all the other divine Names, and because nothing besides God can be called by it, has no equivalent, argues Ibn ‘Arabi, just as fasting has no equivalent. The linguistic incomparability of the Name ‘Allah’ used by Prophet Muhammad is thus an allusion to the incomparability of the fast as a form of worship.

After this analysis, Ibn ‘Arabi explores the significance of the comparison that Prophet Muhammad draws between the smell from the breath of someone who fasts and the fragrance of musk:

He [Prophet Muhammad] said, ‘than the smell (rih) of musk’, for the smell of musk is something that exists and is picked up by [the faculty of] smell; someone with a sound (salim) and moderate (mu‘tadil) disposition (mizaj) takes pleasure in it. Thus, he made the remnant [from the mouth of the person who fasts] more delightful in the sight of God than it [musk] because the relation to perceiving smells for God is not similar to the relation to perceiving smells for a human. It is just a remnant [from the mouth of the person who fasts] for us, but for Him, the Exalted, this remnant is better than the scent of musk in terms of smells. It is a spirit (ruh) that is described as having no like as He [God] has said, so one smell does not resemble the other. This is because the smell from the person who fasts is [the result] of breathing, and the smell of musk is not from breathing

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 727).

The careful attention Ibn ‘Arabi pays to language, and his insistence that the words used in the Qur’an and prophetic traditions have profound metaphysical meaning (Morris 1987, p. 9; Sands 2006, p. 41), is evident in this passage. Ibn ‘Arabi explores the relationship between the term for ‘smell’ (rih) and the term for ‘soul’ (ruh) as both are derived from the same triliteral root (r-w-h). This connection is highlighted by some Qur’anic exegetes in the exoteric tradition (Mawardi n.d., vol. 3, p. 270), but Ibn ‘Arabi sees a metaphysical association between the two because the soul is the wind (or ‘smell’) (rih) that pervades the body. The linguistic connection between ‘breathing’ (tanaffas) of the ‘spirit’ (nafs) on the one hand, and the ‘wind’ (rih) of the ‘soul’ (ruh) on the other—which is underscored by linguists (Lane 2003, vol. 3, p. 1180)—is given metaphysical significance by Ibn ‘Arabi who differentiates between the smell or rih that is produced without a soul/ ruh, and one that is breathed out because of one. Whilst most humans who have a ‘sound (salim) and moderate (mu‘tadil) disposition’ find smells like musk to be fragrant, God declares that the smell from the mouth of a fasting person is more fragrant because that is the smell produced from a soul. Further, this soul is not an ordinary one, but one that has no equivalent because it has been elevated through the elevated act of fasting (see Section 3.1). Ibn ‘Arabi alludes to the irony of the strongest vestige of the elevated soul being produced by an inaction or lack of food and drink—the smell from the mouth of a person who fasts—as opposed to the smell of musk that is ‘something that exists’. The absence of food and drink produces a far more delightful fragrance for God than the presence of musk because it is indicative of the elevated soul through the elevated act of fasting.

3.6. Fasting Is Perfection (Kamal)

The final observation Ibn ‘Arabi makes for the uniqueness of fasting and its superiority over all other forms of worship pertains to the gate through which people who were assiduous in fasting in the world enter heaven according to the prophetic tradition, and the metaphysical significance of its name:

The religion has described fasting as perfection (kamal) that has no perfection above it when God assigned a specific gate for it and gave it a specific name that calls for perfection. It is called ‘Rayyan’ (quenched thirst) and the people who fasted enter [heaven] through it. Having one’s thirst quenched is a rank of perfection in drinking because one who drinks does not actually accept any more drink after they have quenched their thirst. … Muslim [ibn Hajjaj] relates on the authority of Sahl ibn Sa‘d that the Messenger of God, peace be upon him, said, ‘Surely there is a gate in heaven called ‘Rayyan’ through which the ones who used to fast will enter on the Day of Resurrection. No one besides them will enter it. It will be said, “Where are the ones who used to fast?” and they will enter through it. Thus, when the last of them enters through it, it will be shut and no one else will enter through it’. He [God] did not say this about any [other] acts of worship that pertained to prohibitions or commands besides fasting. Thus, He [God] pointed out by [calling the gate] ‘Rayyan’ that they have attained the quality of perfection in their action because they have been categorised as having done that which has no like

(Ibn ‘Arabi n.d., vol. 1, p. 727).

Ibn ‘Arabi explains that ‘to quench one’s thirst’—from which the name for the gate through which people who used to fast enter heaven (Lane 2003, vol. 3, p. 1196)—means that one has completely satisfied themselves in drinking and does not want any more. This is a ‘perfection’ in the sense that one has reached the utmost level of drinking. Perfection is therefore satiation. The people who used to fast, through their practice of the perfect act, are allowed to enter through a gate that marks that perfection, and this perfection adverts to God’s perfection.

Ibn ‘Arabi notices something completely unique about the name of this gate: it is the opposite of the act that the people who enter through it used to perform. This sets it apart from all the other gates of heaven. Prophet Muhammad mentions the eight principal gates through which people will enter heaven (Ashqar 2005, pp. 187–90). While all the other gates are named after the act that was a defining characteristic of the person entering through it, such as the Gate of Charity (sadaqa), the Gate of Prayer (salah), the Gate of Fighting (jihad), etc. (Ashqar 2005, pp. 187–90), the gate through which people who used to fast enter is not called the Gate of Fasting (sawm); instead, it is named after the first thing people usually do at the end of their fast, which is to drink. This alludes to the metaphysical perfection of fasting because there is a finite limit to how much a person can drink, and it demonstrates the uniqueness of fasting that does not follow the rules of other forms of worship or the rewards for them. There may also be an intimation of the third denotation of fasting here as ‘tranquillity’ and ‘calmness’ (see above). This is usually described as the tranquillity that someone feels after the source of their discomfort is removed (Lane 2003, vol. 4, p. 1750). In this case, it alludes to the state of tranquillity when a person has completely quenched their thirst after being in a state of dehydration.

Ibn ‘Arabi finds further corroboration for the perfection of fasting in the explicit statement of Prophet Muhammad that after the people who used to fast enter through the Gate of Rayyan, it will be closed. In other words, the Gate itself will be satiated in the same way as a person who drinks to their fill is satiated. The Gate’s satiation—which Ibn ‘Arabi classifies as perfection—mirrors a person’s satiation, and alludes to God’s perfection. Only fasting is in this category because God ‘did not say this about any [other] acts of worship’. This is due to the fact that there is nothing like fasting, just as there is nothing like God. All of the ways in which fasting is unique allude to God’s uniqueness, which is why it is so profoundly connected to Him.

4. Conclusions

Fasting is connected to God in a way that nothing else is according to Ibn ‘Arabi. While his predecessor Ghazali explores the ethical dimensions of fasting, Ibn ‘Arabi focuses on the metaphysical reality of it. There is nothing like fasting as a form of worship, which connects it to God because there is nothing like God. The uniqueness of fasting is indicative of the incomparability of God. This uniqueness is manifested in the fact that (1) God attributes the fast to Himself, as opposed to other acts of worship that are attributed to the servant, which demonstrates its elevation from the servant to God. (2) Fasting is an inaction, unlike positive actions; this unique aspect of fasting adverts to God’s incomparability and uniqueness. (3) Fasting requires being independent of food, drink, and sex, which is emblematic of God’s absolute independence. (4) Fasting is a shield that safeguards against sin, just like awareness of God safeguards against sin. (5) Fasting produces a fragrance due to the breathing of the person who fasts, which adverts to the Breath of the Compassionate that brings all things into existence. (6) Finally, fasting is perfection as the people who fast will enter through the gate of heaven that highlights the perfection of satiation. This perfection is suggestive of God’s perfection. In all these ways, then, fasting has a metaphysical connection to God that no other form of worship has.

Further Study

The comparison between Ibn ‘Arabi’s Futuhat and Ghazali’s Ihya’ could be extended in future works to include Ghazali’s more esoteric and openly Sufi works, such as The Niche of Lights (Mishkat al-anwar) (Gairdner 1914; Wensinck 1933). Such studies would broaden our understanding of the differences in the mystical weltanschaunng between these two thinkers.8 In addition, the metaphysical theory of fasting that Ibn ‘Arabi expounds in the Futuhat could be extended to include other pillars of worship, such as prayer (salah), obligatory charity (zakah), and pilgrimage (hajj). This would allow us to develop a holistic metaphysical ritual theory of Ibn ‘Arabi. Such studies would also be conducive to comparative analyses with Ghazali’s ethical dimensions of ritual worship in the Ihya’. In this sense, the present work serves as merely a sample of the overarching metaphysical and ethical aspects of ritual theory in the thought of both these scholars.

This study may also function as a propaedeutic foundation for a deeper exploration of the connection between Ibn ‘Arabi’s radical apophasis and his ritual worship theory. Fasting, through its inaction and the incomprehensibility of its non-existent essence, or its definition by negation, forges a link with and alludes to divine transcendence. While this issue is introduced in this study, a far deeper analysis between divine apophasis and the metaphysical reality of fasting, as well as its connection to Ibn ‘Arabi’s general monistic theory of ‘unity of existence’ (wahdat al-wujud), (a term never coined by Ibn ‘Arabi himself and developed later by his followers) is required (Chittick 2012, p. 81). More broadly, Ibn ‘Arabi’s apophatic ritual theology could be compared to similar trends in other religious and/or mystical traditions.9