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So it was that Hanzala drew out the white hand of guidance from the bosom of the love of God,[1] and illumined the sight and the insight of the beholders with the Gospel light. After he had in bell-like accents recited some of the divine verses out of the Evangel, Nu'man and all his ministers sickened of their idols and their idol-worship and were confirmed in the Faith of God. And they said, "Alas, a thousand times alas, that up to now we were careless of this infinite mercy and veiled away therefrom, and were bereft of this rain from the clouds of the grace of God." Then straightway the king tore down the two monuments called the Smeared-With-Blood, and he repented of his tyranny and established justice in the land.[1=Cf. Qur'an 27:12, referring to Moses: "Put now thy hand into thy bosom: it shall come forth white... one of nine signs to Pharaoh and his people...." Also Qur'an 7:105; 20:23;26:32; and 28:32. Also Exodus 4:6. See too Edward Fitzgerald's The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. The metaphors here refer to white blossoms and the perfumes of spring] (51:1) Observe how one individual, and he a man of the desert, to outward seeming unknown and of no station -- because he showed forth one of the qualities of the pure in heart, was able to deliver this proud sovereign and a great company of others from the dark night of unbelief and guide them into the morning of salvation; to save them from the perdition of idolatry and bring them to the shores of the oneness of God, and to put an end to practices of the sort which blight a whole society and reduce the peoples to barbarism. One must think deeply over this, and grasp its meaning. (51:2) My heart aches, for I note with intense regret that the attention of the people is nowhere directed toward that which is worthy of this day and time. The Sun of Truth has risen above the world but we are ensnared in the dark of our imaginings. The waters of the Most Great Sea are surging all around us, while we are parched and weak with thirst. The divine bread is coming down from heaven, and yet we grope and stumble in a famine-stricken land. "Between the weeping and the telling, I spin out my days."
(51:3)
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