The recent post from al Ghazali’s Book of Love, Longing, Intimacy and Contentment puts a very simple problem in front of us, and perhaps because of its simplicity, it is enormously difficult to solve. If we wish to please God, we are told, we should be pleased with God; our standing with God is the same as God’s standing with us.

It is easy to follow the reasoning; on the human level we relate to each other in the same way. If someone is pleased with us, why would we not be pleased with them? And if someone is displeased with us, the relationship is not so positive. But since God is unseen and, for most of the world, unknown as well, what does it mean, ‘to be pleased with God?’

In certain parts of the world, it is a common custom to show a sign of reverence when passing a place of worship. No doubt piously acknowledging the ‘house of God’ can place a useful impression upon one’s consciousness, but if after that gesture of respect one spends the day in lying, cheating, stealing and all sorts of selfish behaviour, then the reverence doesn’t mean much. In other words, God’s standing with us is not very high.

The excerpt from al Ghazali is taken from a chapter on ‘contentment,’ and this refers to a certain stage of spiritual development. It does not mean the simple happiness one might feel, say, on a Saturday morning after a good sleep and a leisurely breakfast on the terrace, but the profound acceptance that comes from recognising that all is from God: yes, the delicate visual poetry of the sunrise heralded by the exultant songs of birds, and the feeling of fresh air on one’s skin, but also the spilled orange juice and the broken chair.

When we talk about this kind of contentment, it often produces a sense of uneasiness: are we supposed to just give up? Is it spiritual to lie on the floor like a carpet and let life walk over us? And the answer is, certainly not – but there are many difficulties in life which we are powerless to alter. An eighth century Indian Buddhist monk called Shantideva said,
If there’s a remedy when trouble strikes,
What reason is there for dejection?
And if there is no help for it,
What use is there in being glum?

Such philosophical equanimity, though, is only the first step. Al Ghazali, quoting Moses and the Prophet Mohammed, is talking about attuning to the Creator behind the creation, and acknowledging that His wisdom, His mercy and His compassion will be present in all that comes to us, in the sweet, the sour, the salty and the bitter, the hot, the cold, the gentle and the harsh. When we can accept this not merely conceptually but with an open, grateful heart for His attention–whether we understand the intention or not–we will have reached the stage of being pleased with God.

It is not so difficult to say, but to come there may be a long journey. Best to empty your pack of everything but patience.