“Just as a seed that has entered underground will, of course, become a tree in the realm of the air, so too will a person who has entered the earth certainly yield a sprout of everlasting life in the realm of barzakh.”Master Nursi
It was one of those luminous nights again. He glanced through the messages on his phone. One caught his eye more than the rest:
“I’m terribly afraid of death. I’ve recently lost the one I loved most. My days are filled with anxiety and unease. I read prayers, but it doesn’t help. What am I to do now?”
Without delay, he replied:
“Inshallah, I’ll send you something I wrote about the fear of death.”
The next day, one question lingered in his mind:
Why do people fear death?
Later, he turned to a friend—a confidant he always sought counsel from, who never failed to offer an answer. When he arrived, his friend was immersed in silent remembrance. Two books lay open on the table: The Words by Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, and a work by Gaws al-Azam Abd al-Qadir al-Geylani.
He asked again:
Why do people fear death?
The answer came in one simple sentence:
Because they do not know the Creator.
He frowned slightly.
But that doesn’t make sense. People who ask these questions—who feel this fear—they don’t have a problem believing in God.
His friend smiled, and deep dimples formed on his face.
I’m not talking about belief. I’m talking about knowing. The two are entirely different.
Look how Bediuzzaman explains this:
“We must work, we must come to know Him. Because, it is understood that He is the one who brought us here. If we do not know Him, who will help us?” (The Words)
See that? It doesn’t talk about believing in what is unseen—it talks about knowing, about becoming familiar, gaining understanding.
He opened the book and continued:
“The highest rank of humanity and the greatest station of mankind is the knowledge of Allah within belief in Allah. The brightest happiness and the sweetest bounty of jinn and mankind is the love of Allah within that knowledge. And the purest joy for the human soul and the most sincere delight for the human heart is the spiritual pleasure within that love. Yes, all true happiness, pure joy, sweet bounty, and sincere pleasure are certainly in the knowledge and love of Allah.” Master Nursi
Is the tea ready? Let’s have some walnuts and raisins too, shall we?
Bismillah. Let the ship set sail into the ocean of divine knowledge.
Yes, belief in God is the foundation. But the question is deeper: Who is your Lord? And do you know how to reach that knowledge?
You might say, “Read the Risale-i Nur.”
But I’d say, don’t just read—step into it. Because those books are lessons in the Names of Allah, page after page. They reveal Him name by name. They tell me who the One I bow to in prayer truly is.
And how do these Divine Names do this?
“It treats man’s weakness and helplessness and poverty and need with reliance upon a Compassionate and Powerful One.” Master Nursi
Two Names appear here:
Qadir — The One whose power suffices for all things. Rahim — The Merciful, who forgives, protects, nourishes, and pities His beloved and believing servants.
Have you noticed? So far, we haven’t even spoken of death or fear. We’ve spoken of knowing and trusting—of who Allah is.
Now we begin to understand:
Man is a being full of weakness, helplessness, poverty, and infinite need. And death—death touches all of these.
The solution lies in remembering: Allah is Rahim.
If a mother loves and protects her child so tenderly, would the One who created all mercy in all mothers cause harm through death?
Death is merely a change of place. A passage from one room to another, from one city to the next.
But how can that be? The one I love is now beneath the earth.
A gentle smile returned.
“Just as a seed that has entered underground will, of course, become a tree in the realm of the air, so too will a person who has entered the earth certainly yield a sprout of everlasting life in the realm of barzakh.” Master Nursi
Isn’t that clear? Smile. Just a little.
There’s only one real cause of human suffering.
Is it really that simple?
Yes. Let’s read it together:
“While in this condition, since he is connected with mankind and the world due to his humanity, but he does not imagine the world and mankind to be under the control of a Wise, All-Knowing, All-Powerful, Merciful, and Generous Being, and instead attributes them to chance and nature, the states of the world and the conditions of people constantly torment him. Along with his own pain, he also suffers from the pain of others.” Master Nursi
Let’s open this up. Everything—life, death, the world, its events—if we see them as random, chaotic, or without purpose, then of course we are tormented.
But if we remember who controls all this:
Hakim — The One who does all things with wisdom and for our benefit. Alim — The One who knows all things, even what your heart will feel tomorrow. Qadir — The One who created you from a single drop. Rahim — More merciful than all mothers. Karim — The One who gives generously and continues His giving eternally in Paradise.
Forget Him—and fear will bite from every direction. You won’t just carry your own pain. You’ll carry everyone’s.
And again, the solution is in Risale-i Nur, The 32nd Word:
- It treats man’s weakness and helplessness and poverty and need with reliance upon a Compassionate and Powerful One. (We are helpless and needy—so leave the burden to the One who can carry it.)
- It offers relief by surrendering the burden of life and existence to His mercy and power, instead of trying to carry it alone. (Leave the weight on the ship—ride it. He knows the way.)
- It teaches that man is not a “talking animal” but a true human being and a noble guest of the All-Merciful. (You are honored. You were chosen. You are His guest.)
- It shows that death is a prelude to reunion with beloved ones who’ve already crossed into the next world. (Death is meeting again. Rejoice.)
- It proves that the grave is not a terror, but a gate opening into gardens of joy, mercy, and Paradise. (The grave is not the end. It is the beginning of the promise.)
- It closes the mouth of the dragon, and opens a door to a beautiful garden. (The grave is not a monster. It is a gate to mercy.)
No comment needed. Just alhamdulillah.
They stood up together. As they stepped into the garden, ships in the bay appeared behind veils of mist. The scent of orange blossoms whispered of resurrection.
Without thinking, a phrase rose to his lips:
You will meet again.
