shouldn’t it have?” Yusuf said.
“Why shouldn’t it have?” ibn Tahir replied. “Because the Prophet said explicitly that miracles occurred only in ancient times. He disallowed them during his own reign and afterwards.”
Yusuf didn’t know how to respond.
Then Jafar spoke. “We don’t need to see a miracle in the fact that Allah gave Sayyiduna the key to paradise. After all, even the Prophet didn’t view his journey to heaven with the archangel Gabriel as a miracle.”
“All right, then let’s assume that Sayyiduna was just the recipient of Allah’s special favor,” Ibn Tahir continued. “That still leaves the question of when, where and in what manner Allah granted Our Master the key to the gate of paradise.”
“Allah appeared to Sayyiduna in the form of a burning bush or a pillar of smoke,” Suleiman suggested, “the way he appeared to the earlier prophets. He could have given him the key that way, like he gave Moses the tables of the law on Mount Sinai.”
“I can picture all of that,” ibn Tahir said, growing more and more impassioned.“I just can’t accept that we live alongside such a glorious and powerful prophet.”
“Maybe you don’t feel worthy?” Suleiman said with a smile. “In what way are we any worse than people of earlier times?”
Ibn Tahir glanced around him in distress. He saw faces that expressed extreme religious fervor. No, they couldn’t understand what was perplexing him so much and forcing him to doubt.
“I think what’s more likely than Suleiman’s conjecture,” Jafar offered, “is that Allah sent some angel to take Sayyiduna to heaven. There Allah could have easily handed him the key to paradise.”
“One way or the other,” ibn Tahir summarized, “the question now is what is the nature of this key. Because we have to assume that neither Allah, nor paradise, nor any of the things in it are made of the same substance as our world. So how is it possible that there is an object among us, here on earth, that’s made of the substance of the other world? Could we perceive it with our senses? And if we could, would it still be a heavenly object?”
“You ask an excellent question, grandson of Tahir,” Yusuf brightened, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.
“If you ask me, this discussion has gone beyond what’s allowed,” Naim warned.
“Who asked you, cricket?” said Suleiman, drowning him out. “As though we cared what you think.”
“In the Koran it’s written,” said Jafar, “that after death the righteous will partake of heaven and its joys in forms that are similar to those on earth. The blessed will have the same senses they had in this world, and the same pleasures. Seen that way, objects in the other world won’t differ much from objects here. And so the substance that the key to paradise is made of could resemble the substance of earthly things.”
Obeida had listened attentively and in silence the entire time and now was smiling slyly.
“I’ve got a good explanation that could clear up this whole riddle of Allah’s key,” he said. “We’ve heard that this key opens the gate to paradise and that it’s in the possession of Sayyiduna, who lives among us, on earth. So this key opens the gate to paradise from the outside, from earth’s side. That means that, regardless of the nature of paradise, Sayyiduna’s key opens the gate from earth, so it has to be made of an earthly substance.”
“You’ve hit on it perfectly!” Yusuf exclaimed.
“An elegant explanation,” ibn Tahir consented.
“Obeida is as cunning as a lynx,” Suleiman laughed.
“We need to ask dai Ibrahim if it really is the right answer,” Naim worried.
“You wouldn’t be very welcome with a question like that, my little bundle of joy,” Suleiman countered.
“Why not?” Naim asked irritably.
“Because, in case you haven’t noticed, the reverend dai Ibrahim requires us to answer only what we’ve been asked. If you, my little snotpicker, tried
“Why shouldn’t it have?” ibn Tahir replied. “Because the Prophet said explicitly that miracles occurred only in ancient times. He disallowed them during his own reign and afterwards.”
Yusuf didn’t know how to respond.
Then Jafar spoke. “We don’t need to see a miracle in the fact that Allah gave Sayyiduna the key to paradise. After all, even the Prophet didn’t view his journey to heaven with the archangel Gabriel as a miracle.”
“All right, then let’s assume that Sayyiduna was just the recipient of Allah’s special favor,” Ibn Tahir continued. “That still leaves the question of when, where and in what manner Allah granted Our Master the key to the gate of paradise.”
“Allah appeared to Sayyiduna in the form of a burning bush or a pillar of smoke,” Suleiman suggested, “the way he appeared to the earlier prophets. He could have given him the key that way, like he gave Moses the tables of the law on Mount Sinai.”
“I can picture all of that,” ibn Tahir said, growing more and more impassioned.“I just can’t accept that we live alongside such a glorious and powerful prophet.”
“Maybe you don’t feel worthy?” Suleiman said with a smile. “In what way are we any worse than people of earlier times?”
Ibn Tahir glanced around him in distress. He saw faces that expressed extreme religious fervor. No, they couldn’t understand what was perplexing him so much and forcing him to doubt.
“I think what’s more likely than Suleiman’s conjecture,” Jafar offered, “is that Allah sent some angel to take Sayyiduna to heaven. There Allah could have easily handed him the key to paradise.”
“One way or the other,” ibn Tahir summarized, “the question now is what is the nature of this key. Because we have to assume that neither Allah, nor paradise, nor any of the things in it are made of the same substance as our world. So how is it possible that there is an object among us, here on earth, that’s made of the substance of the other world? Could we perceive it with our senses? And if we could, would it still be a heavenly object?”
“You ask an excellent question, grandson of Tahir,” Yusuf brightened, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.
“If you ask me, this discussion has gone beyond what’s allowed,” Naim warned.
“Who asked you, cricket?” said Suleiman, drowning him out. “As though we cared what you think.”
“In the Koran it’s written,” said Jafar, “that after death the righteous will partake of heaven and its joys in forms that are similar to those on earth. The blessed will have the same senses they had in this world, and the same pleasures. Seen that way, objects in the other world won’t differ much from objects here. And so the substance that the key to paradise is made of could resemble the substance of earthly things.”
Obeida had listened attentively and in silence the entire time and now was smiling slyly.
“I’ve got a good explanation that could clear up this whole riddle of Allah’s key,” he said. “We’ve heard that this key opens the gate to paradise and that it’s in the possession of Sayyiduna, who lives among us, on earth. So this key opens the gate to paradise from the outside, from earth’s side. That means that, regardless of the nature of paradise, Sayyiduna’s key opens the gate from earth, so it has to be made of an earthly substance.”
“You’ve hit on it perfectly!” Yusuf exclaimed.
“An elegant explanation,” ibn Tahir consented.
“Obeida is as cunning as a lynx,” Suleiman laughed.
“We need to ask dai Ibrahim if it really is the right answer,” Naim worried.
“You wouldn’t be very welcome with a question like that, my little bundle of joy,” Suleiman countered.
“Why not?” Naim asked irritably.
“Because, in case you haven’t noticed, the reverend dai Ibrahim requires us to answer only what we’ve been asked. If you, my little snotpicker, tried
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