Saying 289 - Mirroring the Men of God [Part 2]
A two-part study of Imām ʿAlī’s (ʿa) "Brother in God" and the 11 virtues of a perfected life.
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In the Name of Allah, the All-Beneficent, the All-Merciful
Salaamun Alaikum Readers. As we move into Part 2 of our study on Saying 289, let’s briefly revisit the spiritual compass we set last week.
We are exploring the portrait of a “Brother in God” (أَخٌ فِى اللَّهِ), a figure whose eleven virtues define a perfected life and a path toward divine proximity,. As we discussed, scholars have long debated whether this “brother” was a specific historical companion like Abu Dharr al-Ghifari or Miqdād, or if the Imām (ʿa) was using a “literary archetype” - a perfect template designed to guide all seekers of virtue,.
Regardless of his specific identity, this brother represents the eternal “DNA” of spiritual success. These hallmarks are not just relics of history; they are the very qualities we can still recognize today in modern-day men of God. By studying this template, we aren’t just collecting information; we are looking for a mirror to transform our own souls.
Let’s dive into the final set of virtues by quoting the passage firstly, and then explaining each one briefly:
وَ كَانَ لَا يَلُومُ أَحَداً عَلَى مَا يَجِدُ الْعُذْرَ فِى مِثْلِهِ حَتَّى يَسْمَعَ اعْتِذَارَهُ وَ كَانَ لَا يَشْكُو وَجَعاً إِلَّا عِنْدَ بُرْئِهِ وَ كَانَ يَقُولُ مَا يَفْعَلُ وَ لَا يَقُولُ مَا لَا يَفْعَلُ وَ كَانَ إِذَا غُلِبَ عَلَى الْكَلَامِ لَمْ يُغْلَبْ عَلَى السُّكُوتِ وَ كَانَ عَلَى مَا يَسْمَعُ أَحْرَصَ مِنْهُ عَلَى أَنْ يَتَكَلَّمَ وَ كَانَ إِذَا بَدَهَهُ أَمْرَانِ يَنْظُرُ أَيُّهُمَا أَقْرَبُ إِلَى الْهَوَى فَيُخَالِفُهُ.
He would not reproach anyone in an excusable matter unless he had heard the excuse, he would not speak of any ailment except after its disappearance, he would say what he would do, and would not say what he would not do, even if he could be exceeded in speaking, he could not be excelled in silence; he was more eager to listen than to speak and if two things confronted him he would see which was more akin to the longing of the heart and he would oppose it.
فَعَلَيْكُمْ بِهَذِهِ الْخَلَائِقِ فَالْزَمُوهَا وَ تَنَافَسُوا فِيهَا فَإِنْ لَمْ تَسْتَطِيعُوهَا فَاعْلَمُوا أَنَّ أَخْذَ الْقَلِيلِ خَيْرٌ مِنْ تَرْكِ الْكَثِيرِ
These qualities are incumbent upon you. So, you should acquire them and excel each other in them. Even if you cannot acquire them you should know that acquiring a part is better than giving up the whole.
6. Withholding Reproach
He practiced a radical form of empathy:
«كَانَ لَا يَلُومُ أَحَداً عَلَى مَا يَجِدُ الْعُذْرَ فِى مِثْلِهِ حَتَّى يَسْمَعَ اعْتِذَارَهُ»
“He would not reproach anyone in an excusable matter unless he had heard the excuse”.
He understood that rushing to judge is unwise; often, once an excuse is heard, our anger turns into regret. The Holy Qur’an illustrates this principle beautifully in Surah al-Kahf through the story of Prophet Khidr and Prophet Musa (ʿa). In these scenes, we see Musa (ʿa) rushing to judgment and reproaching Khidr for his actions; however, once he finally heard the explanation, the “excuse”, he realized that everything Khidr had done was right and performed by the command of Allah. This serves as a timeless reminder that when we judge too quickly, we often miss the underlying wisdom or the valid reasons behind another person’s conduct. He (أَخٌ فِى اللَّهِ) lived the lesson of Khidr and Musa (ʿa), knowing that we often judge actions before we understand the divine “excuse” behind them.
7. Dignity in Suffering
He did not use his pain as a tool for attention. He «لَا يَشْكُو وَجَعاً إِلَّا عِنْدَ بُرْئِهِ» (would not speak of an ailment except after its disappearance). While sharing symptoms with a doctor is a necessity, “complaining” to everyone else only causes friends to worry or enemies to rejoice. By waiting until his recovery to mention it, his words became an act of shukr (gratitude) rather than a complaint.
Al-Kulayni, in the noble book al-Kāfī, narrates a tradition from Imam al-Sadiq (as) that reveals the immense weight of this silent patience:
«مَنِ اشْتَكَى لَيْلَةً فَقَبِلَهَا بِقَبُولِهَا وَأَدَّى إِلَى اللَّهِ شُكْرَهَا كَانَتْ كَعِبَادَةِ سِتِّينَ سَنَةً»
“Whoever is sick for one night and accepts it as it should be accepted, and offers thanks to Allah for it, it will be as if he worshipped for sixty years”.
When the narrator asked what “accepting it as it should be accepted” (مَا قَبُولُهَا؟) actually looks like in practice, the Imam (as) explained:
«يَصْبِرُ عَلَيْهَا وَ لا يُخْبِرُ بِمَا كَانَ فِيهَا فَإِذَا أَصْبَحَ حَمِدَ اللَّهَ عَلَى مَا كَانَ»
“He remains patient through it and does not inform anyone of what he is going through; then, when morning comes [and he finds relief], he praises Allah for what occurred”.
It is important to understand that this discipline does not mean we are forbidden from seeking help or speaking to a doctor. There is a vital distinction between Hikāyah (narrating one’s state) and Shikāyah (complaining with discontent). As the Imam (as) clarified under the heading “The Limit of Complaining” (حد الشكاية), simply stating, “I was sick last night and the pain kept me from sleeping,” is a narration of fact, not a spiritual complaint.
The true “complaint” that we must guard against, the one that contradicts the character of a man of God, is to speak with an air of resentment or exaggerated victimhood, saying for example: “I have been afflicted with something that no one else has ever been afflicted with!”. By waiting until we are healed to speak of our struggle, we transform our past pain into a present act of gratitude.
8. Unity of Words and Action
He followed the prophetic standard:
«كَانَ يَقُولُ مَا يَفْعَلُ وَ لَا يَقُولُ مَا لَا يَفْعَلُ»
“He would say what he would do, and would not say what he would not do”.
He avoided the “great hatred” of Allah mentioned in the Quran:
«كَبُرَ مَقْتآ عِنْدَ اللهِ أَنْ تَقُولُوا مَا لاَ تَفْعَلُونَ»
(It is most hateful in the sight of Allah that you say what you do not do).
9. The Superiority of Silence
In the ninth virtue of this “Brother in Faith,” Imām ʿAlī (a) highlights a profound mastery over the most difficult of human tools: the tongue. He describes a state where silence becomes a source of strength rather than a sign of weakness.
The Imām (a) describes this quality:
«إِذَا غُلِبَ عَلَى الْكَلامِ لَمْ يُغْلَبْ عَلَى السُّكُوتِ»
[If he could be exceeded in speaking, he could not be excelled in silence].
This suggests that while others might have surpassed him in the quantity of their words, no one could outmatch him in the depth and quality of his silence. This is a direct praise of restraint over talkativeness. In the spiritual journey, speech is seen as a high-risk activity because many major sins (such as backbiting, lying, and pride) are committed through the tongue. By choosing silence, the seekers of the path to Allah (sālikān) protect themselves from these pitfalls and preserve their spiritual energy.
Silence is not merely the absence of noise; it is the presence of heart (hudūr al-qalb). It allows a person to reflect more deeply on the greatness of God and to focus on self-reform rather than wasting their internal strength on idle chatter. This is why those who maintain silence are often the most thoughtful and aware.
This principle is anchored in a beautiful tradition from Imām ʿAlī ibn Mūsā al-Riḍā (a):
«مِنْ عَلامَاتِ الْفِقْهِ الْحِلْمُ وَالْعِلْمُ وَالصَّمْتُ إِنَّ الصَّمْتَ بَابٌ مِنْ أَبْوَابِ الْحِكْمَةِ إِنَّ الصَّمْتَ يَكْسِبُ الْمَحَبَّةَ إِنَّهُ دَلِيلٌ عَلَى كُلِّ خَيْرٍ»
[Among the signs of understanding are forbearance, knowledge, and silence. Indeed, silence is a door from the doors of wisdom; it earns the love of the people and is a guide toward every good].
Historically, the Imāms (a) often commanded their followers to maintain a “doubled silence” to protect the community. During times of intense political pressure, some companions would speak too freely about the secrets or the high status of the Ahl al-Bayt, inadvertently bringing danger to the Shīʿa.
The sources record a powerful warning from Imām al-Ṣādiq (a) to his companion, Sālim:
«يَا سَالِمُ احْفَظْ لِسَانَکَ تَسْلَمْ وَلا تَحْمِلِ النَّاسَ عَلَى رِقَابِنَا»
[O Salim! Guard your tongue so that you remain safe, and do not load the people upon our necks].
This teaching reminds us that silence is sometimes an act of communal responsibility and protection for others.
It is important to note that the sources make a vital distinction: silence is praised for idle and worldly chatter, but it is not for the pursuit of truth. Measured, calculated speech (such as teaching and learning, or commanding the good and forbidding the evil), is entirely exempt from this rule. In those cases, speech becomes the tool of the intellect, while in all other cases, silence remains the guardian of the soul.
10. Eager to Listen
The tenth virtue of this “Brother in God” serves as a reinforcement of his mastery over silence. Imām ʿAlī (ʿa) describes him as a person who understood that true growth begins not with the tongue, but with the ears:
«وَكَانَ عَلَى مَا يَسْمَعُ أَحْرَصَ مِنْهُ عَلَى أَنْ يَتَكَلَّمَ»
[He was more eager to listen than to speak]
This quality highlights a fundamental reality of human growth: the vast majority of our knowledge and wisdom is acquired through hearing. Whether it is a student learning from a teacher or a person seeking a solution to a complex problem, the gateway to understanding is active listening. While teaching others (speaking) is indeed a virtuous act, it only becomes effective and beneficial when the other party remains silent to receive the message.
This is especially critical when one is in the presence of a scholar or a wise person. The more a person maintains silence and listens in such company, the greater their benefit will be. Conversely, those who are talkative in the presence of the learned effectively deprive themselves of the profound insights they could have otherwise gained.
The fact that we were created with two ears but only one tongue is a clear indication that our listening should be double our speaking. This wisdom is beautifully captured in the following Farsi couplet:
دادند دو گوش و يك زبانت ز آغاز
يعنى كه دو بشنو و يكى بيش مگو
[From the beginning, they gave you two ears and one tongue; meaning you should listen to two things and say no more than one].
By being “greedy” for what he heard rather than what he said, this brother ensured his heart was always being filled with wisdom rather than being emptied through idle talk.
11. The Internal Compass for the Crossroads of Life
In the eleventh and final virtue, the Imām (ʿa) reveals the secret to the brother’s unwavering integrity. It was his ability to navigate the most difficult moments of hesitation and doubt.
We frequently find ourselves at a spiritual crossroads, wondering whether to act or remain still, or which of two opposing paths is closer to the pleasure of Allah. In these moments of uncertainty, when right and wrong may seem blurred, the Imām (ʿa) provides a profound criterion for recognizing the truth:
«وَكَانَ إِذَا بَدَهَهُ أَمْرَانِ يَنْظُرُ أَيُّهُمَا أَقْرَبُ إِلَى الْهَوَى فَيُخَالِفُهُ»
[Whenever two matters confronted him, he would see which was more akin to the longing of the heart (ego) and he would oppose it].
The “Brother in God” would examine both options to see which was more in line with his Hawa (whims and desires). He would then deliberately leave that path and choose the one that went against his ego. This practice of opposing the self serves as the definitive standard for distinguishing truth from falsehood in the midst of life’s complexities.
Conclusion: Excellence is Incumbent Upon Us
The Imam (ʿa) concludes with a direct command to all of us:
«فَعَلَيْكُمْ بِهَذِهِ الْخَلَائِقِ فَالْزَمُوهَا وَ تَنَافَسُوا فِيهَا»
“These qualities are incumbent upon you. So, you should acquire them and excel each other in them”.
Even if we cannot master all eleven today, we must not walk away. Let us start with one. «فَاعْلَمُوا أَنَّ أَخْذَ الْقَلِيلِ خَيْرٌ مِنْ تَرْكِ الْكَثِيرِ» “Know that acquiring a part is better than giving up the whole”.
Taking the First Step: A Call to Transformation
How will we transform these eleven virtues from a list on a screen into the lived reality of our characters? Imām ʿAlī (ʿa) makes it clear that these qualities are not just suggestions; they are incumbent upon us, and we are urged to compete with one another in embodying them.
To bring this blueprint to life, let’s take a tangible step today: write all eleven virtues on a notecard or a post-it note (or use the AI generated image below), and place it somewhere visible, your mirror, your desk, or even as a reminder on your phone. As we reflect on the lives of the Men of God, use this list as a daily mirror to see which virtue needs your attention.
To truly grasp the urgency of this task, look at your journey. If we take 80 years as a typical lifespan, mark exactly where you stand on that line today. Seeing how much of our lives has already passed serves as a profound reminder that the time to “shepherd” these virtues is right now. But remember, do not be paralyzed by the distance yet to travel; the Imām (ʿa) leaves us with a promise of mercy: “Know that acquiring a part is better than giving up the whole”