
Flooding in Mecca in 1941, in which the circumambulation had to be swum
In many parts of the Middle East, where water is not an easily accessible resource, rain is baraka. The Arabic term baraka is only vaguely understood in the English sense of “blessing,” the lexical translation. Context makes this heaven-sent product a blessing some times and a curse other times. Pilgrims to Mecca this year have witnessed torrential rain, dampening the make-shift hotel tents and ihram garb, but perhaps not the enthusiasm of the hajjis and hajjiyyas. An article on today’s Al-Jazeera website notes that about three million Muslims are performing the pilgrimage; as for the number of umbrellas being used, Allahu a’lama. Normally, extra rain in the arid environs of Mecca and Medina would seem something to evoke al-hamdillah from the faithful, but in this case timing is a problem. Some 50 people have already been killed due to these rains, and the fear of spreading disease during an already concurrent high flu season is no doubt troubling to the health officials. The H1N1 flu has already claimed four pilgrims and some 67 have been diagnosed with the virus. Perhaps the Egyptian government missed a few of those dangerous swine of the Christian Zabbalin.
So if one assumes that this ordained ritual is important in the eyes of Allah, an old and nagging question arises: why does the rain fall on the just as well as the unjust. This ethical dilemma played out on the monotheistic stage has a long history. In the Gospels Jesus reminded his followers that God is an equal opportunity Creator: Continue reading Just Rain?






