Do the people reckon they will be left to say, “We have faith,” and not be tried? Do the people reckon they will be left simply to claim to have faith without trial being demanded from them? That will never happen, for the worth of every man lies in his trial. So when the mea- sure of someone's meaning is more, the measure of his trial will be more. The Prophet said, “Surely the people most severely tried are the prophets, then the next best, then the next best.” He also said, “When God desires good for a people, He tries them.” The lordly likeness from the Presence of Lordhood is this: Trial from Our threshold is a robe of honor for the friends. Whoever seeks a level above others in the station of friendship will smell more of the rose of tribulation in the pleasure-garden of the friends. If you want to know this, then look at the state of that master of Adam's children, the one emulated by the folk of the Shariah, and the foremost and chieftain of the folk of the Haqiqah. When that paragon walked into this street, he was not left without heartache and grief for an hour. If he sat for a while cross-legged, the address would come, “Sit like a servant!” If once he put a ring on his finger, the whip of rebuke would come down: “What, did you reckon that We created you aimlessly?” [23:115]. If once he placed his foot on the ground boldly, the command would come, “Walk not in the earth exultantly” [17:37]. If one day he said, “I love ʿāÌisha,” he would see what he saw. When his trial reached the extreme from the words of the hypocrites, he complained inwardly to God. He was addressed: “O paragon, when someone's heart and spirit witness Me, does he complain of trial?” All the venom in the treasuries of the Unseen was poured into one cup and put in his hand, and then a curtain was lifted from his secret core. It was said, “O MuḤammad, drink this venom while contemplating My beauty! And be patient with thy Lord's decree, for surely thou art in Our eyes” [52:48]. Were the Beloved's hand to pour poison for me, poison from His hand would be sweet. * Your curse, O Friend, is my praise and laudation, Your iniquity my justice, Your cruelty loyalty.
