Are you tired of getting your view of the Muslim faith filtered through the twisted lens of Osama bin Laden and the Taliban?

Of course you are.

So let's turn to Jalal al-Din Rumi, that extraordinary Sufi poet, teacher and mystic.

What would Rumi say about bin Laden and the United States' response to his terror?


Those lines are taken from "The Essential Rumi," Coleman Barks' wonderful free-form translation of the world's most beloved Sufi teacher.

Rumi was born in 1207 in the town of Balkh, in present-day Afghanistan. Fearing a Mongol invasion from the East, his family left when Rumi was still a child, traveling to Baghdad, Mecca and Damascus. They eventually settled in Konya, in present-day Turkey.

Then, as now, Afghanistan was a region where war and displacement forced people to find meaning amid the madness.

"Rumi's spirituality is suffused by a sense of cosmic homelessness and separation from God, the divine source," says religion scholar Karen Armstrong.

"The greatest misfortune that could befall any human being, Rumi insisted, was not to feel the pain of severance, which goads a man or a woman to the religious guest," Armstrong writes in her book, "Islam -- A Short History."

"We must realize that our inadequacy and that our sense of selfhood is illusory. Our ego veils the reality from us, and by divesting ourselves of egotism and selfishness we will find that God is all that remains."

Rumi attracted a large following with his teaching, preaching and ecstatic spirit.


Rumi married and had four sons, but his most profound relationship was with an enigmatic and charismatic teacher named Shams al-Din of Tabriz, who was the subject of much of Rumi's writing.

Sufism is a mystical or esoteric form of the Muslim faith that seeks a direct experience of God. It is an inward path of divine union, designed to complement the outward approach of Islamic doctrine and law. Its origins in the history of Islam are murky.

But they predate Rumi, who founded the Mehlevi order of Sufis, commonly known as "Whirling Dervishes" because of their ecstatic, spinning dance rituals.


Since the 1960s, many spiritual seekers have been drawn to Sufism through the poetry of Rumi.

"Sufism is easy to understand with Rumi," says Ali Kianfar, co-director of the Novato-based International Association of Sufism. He came to the United States from Persian in the late 1970s.

"Sufis look into the heart of religion," he says. "Don't confuse politics and religion. Politics tries to take advantage of religion."

Finally I know the freedom of madness. A random image arrives. I scream, "Get out!" It disintegrates. Only love. Only the holder the flag fits into, and wind. No flag.

According to Hatem Bazian, a lecturer in Islamic studies at University of California at Berkeley, Sufism was one of the first targets of modern fundamentalist Islamic movements.

"Sufism is inward-focused and motivated by the ultimate goal of seeking the love of God and gaining his love," Bazian says. "That's in stark contrast to what bin Laden and his followers consider to be Islam."

Barks, who teaches poetry at the University of Georgia, is a student of the Sufi teacher Bawa Muhaiyaddeen, a Sri Lankan and member of the Quadiriyya order.

Here's how Barks explains the essence of Sufism and Rumi:

"The sudden opening of one's eyes to the elaborate beauty around us. Watching Madagascan meerkats on the Discovery channel. The gorgeous dirt road down to the river. Three hundred million galaxies. The gold around a frog's eye. The intricacy of the present moment, all the wealth we need.

"Rumi feels this abundance, and his gratitude for it pours out the waterfall of his work."

Bawa Muhaiyaddeen, who died in 1986, wrote a book titled "Islam and World Peace: Explanations of a Sufi."

"My brothers," he wrote, "the holy wars that the children of Adam are waging today are not true holy wars. Taking other lives is not true jihad. . . . That jihad is fought for the sake of men, for the sake of earth and wealth, for the sake of one's children, one's wife and one's possessions. Selfish intentions are intermingled within it.

"We must not kill each other. Instead, we must wage war against the evil qualities within ourselves."

Well said, but Rumi gets the last word:


Like this.

On Sufis and Rumi

-- "The Rumi Collection," translations by Robert Bly and others (including Barks), edited by Kabir Helminski (Threshold, 1998; $24.95)

-- "The Essential Rumi," translations by Barks with John Moyne (HarperSan Francisco, 1997; $14 paperback)

-- "The Love Poems of Rumi," translations by Fereydoun Kia, edited by Deepak Chopra (Harmony Books, 1998; $12)