Introduction
In the previous essays, we began discussing the foundations of Ibn ʿArabi’s epistemology, the discipline pertaining to ʿilm (knowledge), its sources, methods and objectives. We began by discussing the notion of wujūd (being), central to Ibn ʿArabi’s ontology, and some key terms in its etymological network, including wajada (to find) and wajd (ecstasy). Then we transitioned to some definitions of knowledge that the Andalusian mystic presents in his works. The first tethers ʿilm (knowledge) to theʿālam (world) as ʿalāmāt (signs) that point towards al-ʿAlīm (God the All-Knower), while the second regards the material realm as a matrix of ʿibārāt (phrases) over which we must perform an ʿubūr (crossing over) towards the ʿibra (parable) in the spiritual realm.
In this essay, we dive into al-kitāb al-marqūm (ciphered scripture), the human being, who mirrors al-kitāb al-masṭūr (written scripture), the Quran, and al-kitāb al-manẓūr (witnessed scripture), the universe. We highlighted previously that for each āyah (verse) in the Quran, there is a corresponding āyah (sign) in the witnessed and ciphered scriptures. What remains to be explored is how Ibn ʿArabi’s epistemology manifests in the human being. How do we come to know truths and higher realities? What are our various faculties of knowledge?
On al-Kitāb al-Marqūm
We discussed previously the central Quranic verse: “He merged the two seas they meet, between them is a barzakh, they do not transgress” and how Ibn ʿArabi regards the fresh and salty waters implicitly mentioned here as allusions to the spiritual and material realms, respectively. This is certainly true of al-kitāb al-manẓūr (witnessed scripture), the universe. However, this also holds for al-kitāb al-marqūm (ciphered scripture), the human being, who is a mirror of the universe and the Quran.
The fresh and salty waters, in this case, symbolize the human spirit and body respectively. And just as ʿālam al-khayāl (realm of imagination) lingers as the barzakh (liminal interstice) between the spiritual and material spheres in the universe, so does the nafs (self or soul) stand as a khayāl (imagination), barzakh and liminal space between our rūḥ (spirit) and jism (body). As we mentioned previously, Ibn ʿArabi beautifully describes the nafs as a child born in the marriage between its motherly body and fatherly spirit. Through sulūk (self-discipline), this child can migrate from its motherly to fatherly abode, in the process liberating the body from the boundaries of time and space.
On Human Knowledge
Ibn ʿArabi situates all our faculties within this inner barzakh and khayāl of the human being, the nafs (soul), : five senses, memory, imagination and rationality. In turn, because our nafs is a liminal space that fluctuates and travels back and forth between dense materiality and subtle spirituality, our perception of reality also fluctuates and changes according to how far we have traversed in the journey of sulūk (self-discipline). In other words, when the soul is attached to dunyā (the outer physical form of reality), it can only perceive and understand that dimension, whereas its ascension to ākhira (the ultimate destination and root of all things in the spiritual realm), then it begins to comprehend realities from that vantage point.
Coinciding with this ascension through sulūk (self-discipline) and the ability to perceive higher realities, Ibn ʿArabi also situates certain faculties of the human being within particular domains that they cannot transcend. For instance, the ʿaql (rational faculty) is tethered to ʿiqāl (leash) in the Andalusian mystic’s teachings. This is why this faculty is the holy grail of philosophers, for it assists in categorizing and defining the world around us, undoubtedly oversimplifying it’s ultimate reality in the spiritual realm. Hence, Ibn ʿArabi perceives the notion of ʿaqīda (creed), often learned rationally, as a derivative of ʿuqda (knot) that we inevitably tie around God with our understanding, binding Him to our own limited comprehensions.
Conclusion
Ibn ʿArabi’s vision of reality and being is unitive and organic. The contours of the universe manifest majestically in the human being’s inner cosmos. This is why, the Andalusian mystic would concur, we are commanded in the Quran to constantly reflect over the creation of the heavens and earth, because that is an indispensable path to gain maʿrifat al-nafs (self-knowledge), without which it is impossible to reach God, as Ibn ʿArabi recurrently references the well-known maxim: “Whoever knows their own self has already known their lord.”
In turn, the human being’s ability to perceive reality is dependent on both, their current stage in sulūk (self-discipline) and which faculty they are utilizing to perceive reality. This should also revolutionize our understanding of dunyā and ākhira. The common understanding of the former as ‘here and now’ and latter as ‘there and later’ dissipates in front of Ibn ʿArabi’s more expansive perception of dunyā as the material garment of our lived reality, while ākhira emerges as the spiritual root of all existence. In turn, ‘spiritual living’ and perception is one that does not seek isolation from material life, but rather heighten our perception of this world as sacred, inherently rooted in Divinity.