Tonight is the 23rd night. And because the Islamic calendar begins at Maghrib, tonight is already Friday night. Many of our pious predecessors said that when an odd night of Ramadan falls on a Friday night, the likelihood of it being Laylatul Qadr increases.
This is the night we’ve been hunting for all year. So do extra. Make lots of du’a. Don’t waste a minute of it.
And as it happens — alhamdulillah — the ayat we reach tonight in Surah Al-A’raf are about du’a itself. About how to make it, what should be in our heart when we make it, and why it is the very heart of all worship. Allah has a way of doing that.
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Now That You Know Who He Is — Call Him
We spent two nights on ayah 54. We talked about the six stages of creation, about Prof. Jenkins’ framework, about matter and antimatter, about why physicists keep stopping just short of saying “God” — and why that has everything to do with European trauma and nothing to do with the evidence.
The point was this: Allah introduced Himself. He is the one who created the heavens and the earth. The sun, the moon, the stars — all operating under His command. And this matters because now ayah 55 opens with a natural next step.
You know who your Lord is. So call Him.
Ud’u rabbakum tadarru’an wa khufya.
Call your Lord with tadaru’ — with humility — and khufya — quietly.
The Outer and the Inner
Tadaru’ captures two things at once: humility on the outside and humility on the inside. Both. Together.
The external side — your body posture when you make du’a. You don’t stand chest out, arms crossed, making demands. You beg. And the way we beg is with our palms open, raised to the sky. The Prophet ﷺ taught us this. And he said that Allah is — and I want you to sit with this — embarrassed when His servant raises his hands to the sky and then puts them back down empty.
That’s not to say Allah owes us anything. He doesn’t. But it tells you something about how much He loves to hear from us. He is waiting for us to call. He wants us to call. So when we raise our hands, He will not let us lower them without answering.
The Prophet ﷺ when making du’a would look downward — hands raised, gaze lowered. The qibla of salah is the Ka’bah. The qibla of du’a is the sky. But in moments of great need, moments of complete brokenness, he would raise his hands high and look upward. Not demanding. Just — there is no one else. There is nowhere else to turn. Ya Allah.
Then there is khufya — quietly. The companions were once marching and making du’a at the top of their lungs. The Prophet ﷺ told them to bring it down. Your Lord is not deaf. He hears you.
So the outer dimension of du’a: humble posture, lowered voice.
But there is also the inner dimension — and that comes in the next ayah.
What Du’a Feels Like on the Inside
Ayah 56: Khawfan wa tama’an. Make du’a with fear and longing.
We talked about tama’ a few nights ago in the context of the people of A’raf. In Malay it means greedy — but in Arabic it means something different. It means a deep, intense desire for something. You want it so much. So tama’ in du’a means you are making du’a with a genuine ache for it. Not going through the motions. Actually wanting.
And khawf — fear. What are we afraid of? Not that Allah won’t answer. But that we are not worthy of the answer. That we might be arrogant enough to think we’ve earned it. The khawf keeps us humble. It stops du’a from becoming a transaction — Ya Allah, I’ve been to taraweeh 23 nights straight, so now give me what I want, or I’m not coming tomorrow. That is not du’a. That is negotiation.
Khawf and tama’. Fear and hope. These two things together are not just for du’a — they carry us through our entire journey to Allah.
Think about what happens when they get out of balance. If a person only has fear — only reads the ayat of punishment, only thinks about Jahannam, only focuses on their sins — they will break. They’ll reach a point where they think: everything I do is wrong, Allah is going to throw me into the fire anyway, why bother? So they give up. The fear, without hope, destroys.
And if a person only has hope — only focuses on Allah’s mercy, only reads about forgiveness — they get lazy. Why worry about halal and haram? Allah is Ghafurul Rahim. He’ll forgive me. The hope, without fear, makes you complacent.
You need both. Fear reminds you that Allah is Al-Muntaqim — the Avenger, the One who punishes, the One who has full power over Jahannam. Hope reminds you that He is Ghafurul Rahim. And when those two things live in your heart together, you keep moving. You don’t collapse, and you don’t drift.
Du’a Is the Essence of Every Ibadah
Here’s something that might reframe how you see worship.
After spending all of ayah 54 introducing who He is — after all of that — the next instruction Allah gives is not pray. Not fast. Not give zakat. It is: make du’a. Why?
Because the Prophet ﷺ said: al-du’a mukhkhul ibadah — du’a is the marrow of worship. The core. The essence. Every act of worship, properly understood, contains du’a within it.
What is the most important part of salah? The Prophet ﷺ said: there is no salah without Surah Al-Fatiha. So what is Al-Fatiha about? Strip away the opening praises — Alhamdulillahi Rabbil Alameen, Al-Rahman Al-Rahim, Maliki Yawmid-Din — those are the adab. You praise Allah first before you ask. You don’t walk up to someone and say I need five hundred dollars before you’ve even said hello. You warm them up. You acknowledge them. Then you drop the ask. And the ask in Al-Fatiha is one thing: Ihdina As-Sirat Al-Mustaqim. Oh Allah, keep us on the straight path. The entire prayer — seven times in every raka’ah — is that one du’a. Put me back on the path.
And fasting? The Prophet ﷺ said: whoever enters Ramadan and leaves it without their sins being forgiven, Allah curses them. That means the entire month of fasting is one extended du’a: Ya Allah, forgive me. Every hunger pang is that du’a. Every moment of thirst. Every night of taraweeh. All of it is saying: Ya Allah, I am broken, I need You, forgive me.
Al-du’a mukhkhul ibadah. When you understand that, you understand why du’a comes before everything else in this ayah.
Don’t Spread Corruption After the Earth Has Been Set Right
Allah ends ayah 56 with something that reaches far beyond our personal worship: do not spread corruption on earth after it has been set right.
Ba’da islahiha. After its reform. After its repair. The earth has been made good. Don’t undo that.
This is bigger than just don’t harm people. Our responsibility is to all of Allah’s creation — human beings, animals, plants, the water, the land. Allah follows this immediately with the image of wind carrying rain clouds across the sky, dead earth suddenly turning green after winter — that is Allah’s islah. He repairs the earth constantly. Who are we to corrupt what He keeps restoring?
The Prophet ﷺ once saw a companion using excess water while making wudu. He asked him: what is this waste? The companion said: is there waste in wudu? I’m doing ibadah. And the Prophet ﷺ said: yes. Even if you are making wudu in a flowing river.
A flowing river. 1,400 years ago, people could not imagine that human beings would ever have the capacity to destroy something as vast and powerful as a river. And yet here we are — post-industrial revolution, with water undrinkable in country after country, because we corrupted it. The Prophet ﷺ saw it coming. The instruction was already there.
Even at war, Islamic rules of conduct prohibit cutting down trees and burning crops. If we cannot corrupt the environment in war, what is our excuse in times of peace?
Qaribun Min Al-Muhsineen
Allah ends with: indeed the mercy of Allah is near to those who are muhsineen — those who are excellent, those who do ihsan.
We’ll pick this up tomorrow insha’Allah and explore what it means that Allah’s mercy is specifically close to the muhsineen — and what that tells us about the standard we should be reaching for.
