The erudite spiritual master and saint Ibn Ata’illah, may God have mercy upon him, says in his Aphorisms (al-Hikam), “Let not an act of worship make you joyous because it comes from you, rather be overjoyed because it came from God to you.” I learnt from my own teachers that God’s blessings are like parcels of love He sends you, so that you may increase in His love and draw near. Standing at the foot of the entrance to al-Aqsa was a moment in which I felt the magnitude of this particular parcel and it only increased me in gratitude and a heartfelt ‘Alhamdulillah.’

Masjid al-Qibli. Photo: myheartinpalestineII CC via Flickr



Anyone who visits Makka for the first time will never forget their first gaze upon the Ka’aba. No matter how many times you visit thereafter, there will always be a significance attached to that first moment and all the firsts you experience there afterwards. From the first prayer and the first time you shed tears for God, to the first time you enter Madina and see the beloved Prophet’s green dome and stand before the Messenger of God and offer your heartfelt salam. The purity of first moments is a spiritual experience of the highest order and often marks the moment when spiritual ecstasy will lead to spiritual responsibility and struggle. The first gaze upon the Dome of the Rock and the Masjid al-Qibli, and the first prayer and stroll in the Haram al-Sharif of Jerusalem, had the purity of those first moments. It was immensely uplifting for the soul and abstracted us from the political situation that encircles the Sacred Sanctuary today.

Original minbar placed in the mosque by Salahuddin al-Ayubi. Image taken in the early 1900’s.﻿

We entered the Masjid al-Qibli and offered two raka’s (prayers upon entering a mosque). The inner beauty of the mosque was empowering. The history contained in this sacred place was its beauty and every wall and pillar seemed alive, as though it were able to tell a story. At the forefront of this were the minbar (pulpit) and mihrab (niche to show direction of Makka.) The mihrab still contains a plaque implanted there by Salahuddin al-Ayubi, may God have mercy on him, from his conquest of Jerusalem in 1187. To its left is a replica of the minbar he had made and placed there. It had been preserved for over 800 years, until 1969 when an Australian Christian broke into the mosque and set it ablaze because he wanted to help the Jews rebuild their temple and thus hasten the coming of the Messiah. All credit goes to King Abdullah of Jordan for its replacement. We took a short tour of the main prayer hall and then one of the guards directed us downstairs to the prayer hall under the Qibli. Little did we know how immersed it was with history.

Walking through the underground prayer hall was surreal; the walls had a unique, radiant character. You could spend long moments simply looking at them and reflecting upon all the history this blessed mosque has witnessed. Our guide took us to the far end (towards the qibla) of the prayer hall where we descended more steps and came upon a library and a prayer area surrounded by huge, thick, stone pillars that were clearly hundreds of years old. As we observed them up close and were told they are the original foundations of the mosque, we were pleasantly directed to the entrance of a library, the maktaba al-khataniya. This was a library established by Salahuddin al-Ayubi and has remained in use ever since. The entrance to the library itself is a door to the Masjid al-Qibli known as Bab al-Nabi, the door of the Prophet, upon him be peace. It is enormous and imposing, and widely held to be the door through which the Holy Prophet entered this mosque when he came to al-Aqsa on the Night Journey. It is also believed to be the door through which Caliph Umar ibn al-Khattab and Salahuddin al-Ayubi entered.

I stood overjoyed at the prospect of standing in a place that the Prophet had walked through- and not upon any night, on that night no less, that His Lord bestowed upon him the greatest of ranks and granted him the most honourable station of “two bows length or nearer” (surah al-Najm). En-route to the union with his Beloved, when his heart did not lie about what it saw of God’s resplendent countenance, he passed through this door, upon him be the choicest blessings and prayers. I immediately prayed at the closest spot I could find and carried in my heart hope that I prayed in a spot on which he would have stood, prayed, sat, or simply walked past. I could have left Jerusalem at this moment without any regrets.

Image by dozemode from Pixabay

We walked back towards the Dome of the Rock to pray there before the Asr prayer was due to be called. The Dome adorns all images of Jerusalem we have ever known. For many people it is the symbol of Jerusalem. Its inexplicable beauty, in my estimation, is not the intricacy of its detailed design, but the fact that it was from here that the beloved Prophet ascended to heaven. He is reported to have ascended from the right side of the sakhra (rock). The Ottomans built a small dome just outside the Dome of the Rock and named it the Gubba al-Mi’raj, the dome of the ascension, as they believed that is where the ascension took place. As we entered the Dome my mind was immersed with thoughts of the Night Journey- not only the narrative we read in the books of sirah, but the actual experience. How blessed was this spot that God chose it from amongst all places on earth for his beloved to ascend? What would it have been like to be there, to bear witness, to experience and share in that moment? It certainly felt as though we were there and we were sharing in that moment, because the Dome radiates with the baraka of that moment, even now, 1400 years later.

Asim Bharwani CC via Flickr



As you walk into the Dome of the Rock the first thing that strikes you is the architecture- to say it is beautiful would be unjust! Every inch within the Dome is perfected with ornate designs and an eclectic use of colour that only enhances the aesthetic experience of the viewer. The inner design of the mosque is unique as it is built around the rock, which itself is very big. Although the rock was cordoned off due to the renovations taking place, we were still able to see parts of it. The Prophet, upon him be peace, said that it was a rock of Paradise. God bestows honour upon whom and what He wills and it is by this ascription of honour that people and things become honourable. Had it not been for this, it would just be another rock.

Prior to our trip I was told to seek out the prayer area under the rock, as it is believed that the Prophet, upon him be peace, prayed there. I also learnt that it was where Imam al-Ghazali, upon him be God’s mercy, sat and authored some of his Ihya Ulum al-Din. As you walk around the rock from the main western entrance, you find a staircase leading down under it, opposite the mihrab currently used by the Imam to lead prayers. Underneath is a small space, much like a cave, where people come and offer their prayers. We descended the stairs and prayed on the right, and sat there afterwards absorbing the baraka of the space.

I have never felt as close to our legacy as I did here and one never feels far from the presence of the Prophet in the Dome. Being here, sitting, reflecting, pondering, wondering, absorbing, reflecting, and longing, made me realise the true extent of the damage being done to our tradition and legacy in the two Sacred Sanctuaries of Makka and Madina. One of my teachers told me that the beauty and baraka of al-Aqsa is readily accessible to all believers because it has been preserved with only minimal and necessary changes throughout history. Makka and Madina on the other hand, have been radically altered, commercialised, and much of their histories wiped out; with that, immediate access to their light has become more difficult. I felt a deep sense of sorrow over this and it still pains me today that so much of our history has simply been destroyed in the Hijaz. What will be left for future generations to touch, feel, smell, and remind them of a past that is alive and whose light will never be extinguished? The call for the Asr prayer was made, and we stood to offer our first obligatory prayers in al-Aqsa.



Throughout our remaining days in Jerusalem we took our time in seeking out the intimate details of what the Haram al-Sharif is after the Masjid al-Qibli and Dome of the Rock. We were pleasantly surprised and somewhat overwhelmed at the abundance of history this Sacred Sanctuary holds. You cannot pass a stone, a wall, a dome, a pillar, or a tree, except that there is some historical narrative attached to it. Many of the structures (more so their remains) and objects scattered around the Haram were either put there by the Ottomans or renovated and archived by them – may God reward them for their meticulous concern in keeping this history alive. As we were walking around the Haram and I saw the extent of the Ottoman contribution, I could not help but think how good work survives and nourishes future generations. Almost a hundred years after their fall, and hundreds more after their contributions to the Haram al-Sharif, a British Muslim and his family were visiting al-Aqsa and nourishing their hearts and minds by connecting with a history that is alive. Had they not been concerned and left the Sanctuary to ruin and not have bothered to document the significance and dates of its many structures and objects, how could the children of Jerusalem, and Muslims in general, know the importance of al-Aqsa and have a spiritual connection to it?

One of the most important sites in the Haram al-Sharif we visited was the Musalla al-Buraq. This is located to the west of the entrance to the Masjid al-Qibli, next to the Maghrabi gate (Bab al-Maghariba) and is only open in the mornings. We descended a steep set of stairs to come into a small prayer area. It was here that the Messenger of God, upon him be peace, entered the Haram al-Sharif, and tied the buraq (the animal with which he journeyed). He prayed two rakats and then proceeded towards the main mosque at the southern most end of the Sanctuary. The Wailing Wall, a holy site for Jews, is located immediately on the other site of the Musalla. Praying in the Musalla was extraordinary for its link to the Prophet. It filled the heart with joy, longing, a wish to be with him, and a sorrow that we missed his days amongst his companions. May God join us with him in the afterlife.

Photo: Jan Riemer CC via Flickr



At the north-eastern end of the Haram al-Sharif is a gate named Bab al-Dhahabi, the Golden Gate. It was closed on the orders of Salahuddin al-Ayubi after his liberation of Jerusalem and remains closed until today. The Gate is the one place in the vicinity of the Haram al-Sharif that has some significance for all three Abrahamic faiths – for Muslims it is an entrance to al-Aqsa; Christians believe that Jesus passed through it upon his entrance to Jerusalem, and Jews believe that the Messiah will enter through it when he comes. The roof of the gate contains two distinct domes. One of these is the spot where Imam al-Ghazali used to sit, teach, and engage in his pursuit of knowledge, and it is widely known amongst the indigenous Jerusalemites who frequent al-Aqsa. In fact, they call it ‘Qubbat al-Ghazali’ (Ghazali’s dome). We were honoured to see it- a place that was witness to the erudition and magnificence of this great Imam. The outer side of the Golden Gate extends into al-Aqsa’s cemetery, Bab al-Rahma, a beautiful place that is replete with the tombs of companions of the Prophet, saints, scholars, and martyrs. The two companions buried there are Shaddad ibn Aws and ‘Ibadat b. Saamit, may God be pleased with them both. Shaddad ibn Aws was from Madina and would often visit Jerusalem and stay there. He was from among the narrators of Prophetic hadith and it was said of him that “Shaddad is from among those who were blessed with knowledge and forbearance.” He passed away in Jerusalem in 85 AH at the age of 75. Ibadat b. Saamit was also from Madina and witnessed many of the battles during the Prophet’s time and was present with Amr b. al-Aas in Egypt. He was appointed the Qadi for the Levant (Shaam) and was the first Qadi of Islam for Jerusalem. He passed away in 34 AH at the age of 72. Visiting both companions reinforced the Prophetic presence that dwells in al-Aqsa and permeates the air of the Haram al-Sharif. May God be pleased with the companions of our Prophet and enable us to meet them in the afterlife.

Dotted throughout the Haram al-Sharif we found a number of open, elevated structures, enclosed with a dome-topped roof and supported by four pillars. Each of them, and there are many, have a unique name and a prayer niche. Some contain seating areas. They were places where knowledge was imparted and people gathered for the remembrance of God. One of these places is situated at the northern most end of the Haram al-Sharif and is quite distinct from the others. I was told it was called Qubbat al-‘Ushaq – the dome of the lovers. Here people would sit and recite poems about the love of God and His Messenger and rejoice in their blessings. This was yet another example of how pre-modern Muslim cities, and Jerusalem in particular, were a haven for knowledge and piety.

In the old city that surrounds the Haram al-Sharif there was a time when one would find 43 zawiyas, or centres of spirituality, where the remembrance of God took place and books on Islamic spirituality were taught. The great 6th century (12th century AD) sage, scholar, and spiritual master, Abu Madyan, established a zawiya in the old city after he participated in the liberation of Jerusalem, and settled there for a period of time. Through our strolls in the old city we came across a few other zawiyas that are no longer in use, including the Naqshbandi, Indian, and Sudanese zawiyas. Delegations from various parts of the Muslim world would often come to visit Jerusalem and settle here; they would establish zawiyas or be offered the buildings by the ruler. This occurred with the only remaining and functioning zawiya in Jerusalem’s old city, the Afghani zawiya. It was established in 1043 AH (1603 AD) as a gift from the Ottoman governor of Jerusalem of the time to the Qadiri order of spirituality. It remained as such for about 300 years and then passed onto the Shadhili order, under whose auspices it remains today. The Shaykh of the zawiya, Shaykh Abdul-Karim al-Afghani, resides in Jerusalem and spends most of his time in al-Aqsa. At the zawiya they hold gatherings of remembrance (dhikr) and read the books of spirituality. I had the honour of spending a portion of our visit with the Shaykh and thank God for the opportunity. He was a serene man of impeccable character and humility whose spiritual state was easily visible. Spending a few hours with him was like being in al-Aqsa centuries ago. One forgets about the politics of the Sanctuary and the problems facing it in the company of the Shaykh. His parting advice to me was to be mindful of God wherever I am, for indeed He sees me and His favours and blessings are not restricted. May God protect Jerusalem and its people and preserve the Noble Sanctuary.

For an extended version of this article and the author’s personal blog.