

Last month Liz was carrying around this pretty red book. At some point, her and Phileena popped that thing open and the next thing I knew, I was the proud co-owner of a copy of Love Poems From God: Twelve Voices from the East and the West.
Since then Phileena had been savoring the pages and referencing the poems. On more than one occasion Phileena has shared verses from Rabia of Basra or Rabi’a al-Adawiyya al-Qaysiyy.
Rabia’s tale is one of the most heart-breaking and compelling stories I’ve heard in a long, long time.
Rabia lived during the 8th century in ancient Iraq. She was the youngest of 4 daughters in a very poor, but respectable family. As a young girl her father died, and eventually Rabia was not only separated from her parents but her sisters as well.
She was left wandering and vulnerable.
Known to possess captivating beauty, some biographers tell that Rabia was captured and sold at a considerably high price as a slave to one of the most famous brothels of her day. There she was imprisoned until she was nearly 50 years old.Reflecting on the torment of her sexual slavery she wrote,
“What a place for trials and transformation did my Lover put me, but never once did He look upon me as if I were impure. Dear sisters, all we do in this world, whatever happens, is bringing us closer to God.”Her poems are simple, her prayers moving, her life recognized as a saint in the Sufi tradition. Rabia spent her life suffering as a contemplative mystic, faithful to her faith through the exploitation of her sexuality.In the introduction to her section of poems in the book, the translator Daniel Ladinsky concludes with this quote from her writings,
“Show me where it hurts, God said, and every cell in my body burst into tears before His tender eyes. He has repaid me though for all my suffering in a way I never wanted: The sun is now in homage to my face, because it knows I have seen God. But that was not His payment. The soul cannot describe His gift. I just spoke about the sun like that because I like beautiful words, and because it’s true: Creation is in homage to use.”
Beauty is as useless as
flowers on the kitchen table
as kindness and weeding a garden
wine after dinner, hugs and dressing up for church
Beauty is as useless as
the intricately carved porches in the Romanian countryside
as making a home, giving a child a toy, and singing four part harmony
a sunset, silence, old people, and monks
Beauty is as useless as
wonder and standing in awe of spring
as mourning a miscarried child and thinking on history
and looking into the eyes of one sentenced to death
Beauty is as useless as
quiet country life, as being at home, or writing poetry
as flowers for the dead, hermits, and desert wanderers
gratitude, sharing, contentment, and making peace with your spouse
Beauty is as worthless as
a bird songs, crickets in the evening, and croaking frogs
as laughter, the wind off the ocean, or saying 'I love you'
and putting your bare feet in the creek
Beauty is as useless as
the washing of Jesus' feet with costly perfume
salt, sugar in your tea, as grieving or dancing
giving time to a street kid or cleaning a child's head of lice
Beauty is as useless as
wild flowers which wither immediately after picking them
as making your bed, visiting prisoners, time waiting for the bus
caring for the severely handicapped
Beauty is as useless as
giving gifts which cannot be reciprocated or remembering the dead
caring for an aging parent, as celebration
thanksgiving, birthday parties or your favorite old shirt
Beauty is as useless as
life at the bottom of the ocean and invisible molecular movement
as astronomy, theoretical mathematics, or dressing up for a date
as a fruit tree with forbidden fruit, contemplation, or fasting
Beauty is as useless as
a necklace handed down from grandmother to granddaughter
as purity of heart, humility, taking a shower, putting on deodorant
holding hands while walking or the moments before you fall asleep
Beauty is as worthless
as a life
"He has made everything beautiful in its time" Ecclesiastes 3:11
Beauty is as useless
as the beloved is overcome
(This watercolor and the meditation below were done during our communities recent retreat in the mountains in Romania. )