Redefining the Miraculous: Imam al-Ghazali, Ibn Rushd and Bediuzzaman Said Nursi on Qur'anic Miracle Stories

8/20/2019 Redefining the Miraculous: Imam al-Ghazali, Ibn Rushd and Bediuzzaman Said Nursi on Qur'anic Miracle Stories

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Redening the Miraculous: al-Ghazā lī,

Ibn Rushd and Said Nursi on Qur ’anic

Miracle Stories

Isra Yazicioglu

ST JOSEPH’S UNIVERSITY

Introduction

The Qur ’an narrates many miracle stories about messengers. When Abraham is

thrown into the re, it miraculously becomes ‘cool and safe’ for him (Q. 21:69) and

Mary conceives Jesus as a virgin (Q. 3:45–8, Q. 19:18–21).1 Similarly, Jesus heals

the blind and sick with his touch, and revives the dead (Q. 5:110), while Moses’ staff

goes through instant metamorphosis and performs ‘unexpected’ services (Q. 7:117–9,

Q. 20:17–20, Q. 20:65–70, Q. 26:43–6, Q. 27:10 and Q. 28:31). Likewise,

Solomon understands the language of the birds (Q. 27:16) and has miraculous

means of transportation (Q. 34:12), and so on. Side by side with these miracle stories

one also nds repeated criticisms of those who demand miracles from Muḥammad

(for example, see Q. 6:8–10, Q. 17:90–5, Q. 52:44–5, and Q. 6:33–5). Even earlier

prophets such as Noah are presented as criticising the demands for miracles

(Q. 11:31). Time and again, the Qur ’an claims that the demand for miracles is a

misguided one, and that the natural world contains suf cient evidences for faith.

To my mind, it is curious that the Qur ’anic miracle stories are narrated in the midst

of a discourse that de-emphasises the miraculous. In addition, one may also raise

the question of the relevance of these miracle stories for the audience of the Qur ’an.

Since the Qur ’an repeatedly presents itself as guidance,2 it is not unfair to ask

how these miracle stories t into such an edifying framework. The aim of this paper

is to explore these hermeneutical questions in light of the reception history of the

Qur ’an. I shall discuss how readers of the Qur ’an have endeavoured to interpret

the miracle stories as meaningful and consistent narratives within the Qur ’an. More

specically, I shall look at one particular crucial medieval debate on Qur ’anic miracle

Journal of Qur ’anic Studies 13.2 (2011): 86–108

Edinburgh University Press

DOI: 10.3366/jqs.2011.0021

# Centre of Islamic Studies, SOAS

www.eupjournals.com/jqs


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stories; and then turn to interpretation of miracles by a relatively neglected

contemporary Muslim exegete, Said Nursi.

In what follows, I

rst describe the theme of miracles within the Qur ’anic discourse,

and then explore how two major classical Muslim scholars, namely Abū Ḥā mid

Muḥammad b. Muḥammad al-Ghazā lī (d. 505/1111) and Abū’l-Walīd Muḥammad

b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad b. Rushd (d. 595/1198), engaged with Qur ’anic miracle

stories. I shall argue that each of these crucial interpreters raised questions about the

relevance of these stories for themselves, and read these miracle stories in overlapping

as well as diverging ways. In the second part of this study, I turn to a contemporary

interpretation of miracle stories by Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (1870–1960). I shall

discuss how Nursi attempts to make sense of the juxtaposition of miraculousand ordinary in the Qur ’an, and reads the miracle stories as relevant for a

contemporary believer. I shall also argue that Nursi’s approach provides a

reconciliation of al-Ghazā lī’s and Ibn Rushd’s diverse concerns and insights about

the Qur ’anic miracle stories.

An Apparent Puzzle: Miracle Stories and Natural Signs in the Qur’an

The Qur ’an repeatedly notes that prophets have been sent throughout history with

clear and manifest ā yāt (‘signs’), but many people refused to heed them (see, for

example, Q. 6:25 and Q. 7:146). In addition to using the term ā ya to refer to miracles,

the Qur ’an also uses it to refer to various natural phenomena, and repeatedly talks

about such things as rain and wind, the stars, the sun and moon, grains and fruits, the

growth of an embryo, the production of milk and honey, ships sailing on water, and

the different human races, as ā yāt pointing to the mercy, power and wisdom of God.

These natural signs are visible and yet one still needs to be educated in order to

recognise them. This instruction is the very function of the revealed message sent by

God through the prophets. Thus, the Qur ’an employs the same word, ā ya, for the very

message of God proclaimed by His messengers. The ‘signs/verses’ of the revelation

recited by the prophet disclose the ‘signs’ in the universe.3

The Qur ’an is also explicit about the relational aspect of signs of God: regardless

of how major a natural sign or even a miracle is, certain people will never believe

(Q. 7:146). That is, something is a sign only in relation to someone who is open to

consider it as a sign; if one refuses to consider it, the signs can not force themselves

on the person. From a Qur ’anic perspective, the relational aspect of the sign does not

make the sign less powerful. As Fazlur Rahman put it, ‘the signs do not become

subjective … because many do not “see” them, any more than the sun becomes

subjective because animals habituated to darkness cannot see it ’.4

Having noted the strong correlation the Qur ’an posits between itself and natural

phenomena, let me now turn to the issue of miracles. According to the Qur ’an, among

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the excuses the disbelievers gave for not believing in the Qur ’an was that they needed

to see a number of supernatural events conrming Muḥammad’s truthfulness. They

needed, for instance, to see him miraculously gaining possession of lush gardens and

vineyards, and a house made of gold; they wanted to witness him bringing down the

skies, ascending to the heavens before their eyes and returning with a tangible Book,

and even bringing God and angels before them face to face (Q. 17:90–5). The Qur ’an

replies to these demands for miracles in several ways, all of which are critical. First, it

reiterates its frequent emphasis on natural phenomena as a suf cient sign for the

reality of God (for example, Q. 17:99). Second, it presents the very revelation of the

Qur ’an as a miracle that can only be explained by reference to the Divine ( if you have

doubts about the revelation We have sent down to Our servant, then produce a single

sura like it – enlist whatever supporters you have other than God – if you truly [think

you can], Q. 2:23; also Q. 10:38, Q. 11:13, Q. 17:88, Q. 52:33–4, etc.). At other times,

it notes that earlier peoples did not believe even when they saw miracles (for example,

Q. 5:110, Q. 10:75–7, Q. 17:59, Q. 27:10–13). Finally, it condently declares that

the disbelievers will still not believe even if they are granted the miracles they

demand: even if We had sent down to you [Prophet] a book inscribed on parchment,

and they had touched it with their own hands, the disbelievers would still say, ‘This

is nothing but blatant sorcery’ (Q. 6:7); similarly, even if they saw a piece of

heaven falling down on them, they would say, ‘ Just a heap of clouds’ (Q. 52:44).

In sum, the Qur ’anic response to the demand for miracles constitutes a criticism of

such demands.

Despite its critical stance with respect to the demand for miracles, the Qur ’an

also narrates many miracle stories about bygone messengers. Since the Qur ’an insists

that its aim is not to merely narrate stories for the sake of narrating them,5 and it

acknowledges that it is not addressing bygone communities in the pre-Muḥammadan

period (see Q. 3:44, Q. 11:49, Q. 11:100 and Q. 12:102), how could these stories beinterpreted meaningfully? After all, unlike the ‘signs’ in nature referenced in the

Qur ’an, the reader does not have access to the miracles narrated in it. In other words,

while the audience of the Qur ’an could actually look at natural phenomena such as

rain, or the stars, to apply (or question) Qur ’anic claims about natural signs, they have

no ability to witness the miracles related in the Qur ’an. Hence, it is fair to ask the

hermeneutical question: how might these miracle stories in the Qur ’an be meaningful

and relevant for a reader? In order to pursue this question, I rst shall turn to medieval

interpretations.

The Medieval Muslim Reception of Qur’anic Miracle Stories

Traditionally, one way Muslims made sense of the miracle stories in the Qur ’an was

through referring to the differing needs of the various prophets. In other words, many

Muslim scholars maintained that the major miracle of each prophet is tailored to the

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needs of his times.6 Thus, for instance, they believed that God gave Moses miracles

that would outdo magic just because it was appropriate to his situation: in Moses ’ time

people were interested in magic, and the Egyptian high priest of the time was a

sorceror. Similarly, Jesus was given healing miracles because in his time these were

held in high regard. As for Muḥammad, the traditional view is that he was given the

Qur ’an, a miracle of eloquence, since his rst audience highly valued eloquence.7

Moreover, the Qur ’an was an appropriate miracle for the nal prophet, Muḥammad,

whose audience was to continue till the end of time.8

This traditional interpretation explains how it could be maintained, within the

Qur ’anic perspective, that supernatural events were not central to Muḥammad’s

mission.9

It does not quite explain, however, what the reader of the Qur ’an is tomake of the miracle stories found in the Qur ’an. The various miracles recounted

might have worked for their audience in ancient times, but what does the audience

of the Qur ’an, which is contemporary with Muḥammad, or living after him, to

take from the very narratives of these miracles? One may also raise the question

of how is the reader, who is repeatedly invited to take the past prophets as examples

of conduct (e.g. Q. 33:21, Q. 60:4–6), expected to make sense of these miracle

stories? Not surprisingly, these questions have been raised throughout the

reception history of the Qur ’an. It is especially (albeit not exclusively)10

in thework of some medieval Muslim thinkers that we see a discussion about the meaning

of these stories. As case studies, we shall now look at how two classical Muslim

thinkers, namely al-Ghazā lī and Ibn Rushd, interpreted the implications of miracle

stories.

Al-Ghazāl ī on Miracle Stories in the Qur’an

Often what rst comes to mind regarding al-Ghazā lī’s approach to miracle stories

is his famous defence of the possibility of miracles in Tahā fut al-fal āsifa

(‘The Incoherence of the Philosophers’). In this work, which is devoted to a critical

analysis of certain philosophical claims that contradict faith, al-Ghazā lī argues

eloquently and incisively for the logical possibility of miracles and defends a literal

reading of miracle stories in the Qur ’an, in the sense of viewing them as actual

interruptions in the usual course of nature. Moreover, in his other works devoted to

clarication of theological and credal issues, such as Fayṣal al-tafriqa and Iqtiṣād

f ī ’l-i

ʿtiqād , al-Ghaz

ā lī

argues that miracles constitute decisive evidence for thetruthfulness of a prophet. Yet, despite his defence of the literal sense of miracle stories

as well as their evidentiary value, in his other writings, such as al-Munqidh min

al-ḍ al āl , al-Ghazā lī makes a surprising about turn and claims that miracles on their

own cannot establish certainty and in fact are almost useless for faith formation. This

apparent contradiction in al-Ghazā lī’s approach to the issue of miracles is actually

very instructive. In order to make sense of his interpretation, I shall rst offer a closer



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look at how he evaluates the evidentiary value of miracles differently in different

contexts, and then analyse how he argues for the possibility of miracles.

According to al-Ghazā

lī

, two fundamental principles make up the core of propheticmessages: faith in one God and faith in the hereafter. These two pillars are af rmed

and corroborated by reason: ‘every piece of knowledge, whether ancient or modern, is

really a corroboration of the faith in God and in the Last Day ’.11 Other details of

prophetic messages are rationally neutral, and reason, having conrmed the core of the

message, can defer to these details in revelation without any dif culty. The miracles of

the prophets play a facilitative role in conrming the veracity of their mission and

submitting to the details about which reason is neutral.12

On the other hand, in al-Munqidh min al-ḍ al āl , al-Ghazā lī suggests that in case of a

contradictory or illogical claim, even the most impressive ‘miracle’ cannot serve as a

proof for that claim:13

I know very well that ten is more than three. If anyone tries to dissuade

me by saying, ‘No, three is more than ten,’ and wants to prove it

by changing in front of me this stick into a serpent, even if I saw

him changing it, still this fact would engender no doubt about my

knowledge. Certainly, I would be astonished at such a power, but I would not doubt my knowledge.

In another context al-Ghazā lī goes further, questioning the evidentiary value of

miracles in general. He notes that it is possible that the turning of the staff into a

serpent may be a deception; ‘if it not be deception, it is at most a remarkable feat ’, and

does not necessarily prove anything about the claims of the person.14 Al-Ghazā lī’s

reference to Moses’ staff turning into a serpent is noteworthy since it is the most

oft-quoted miracle story in the Qur ’an (it is mentioned in Q. 7:117–9, Q. 20:17–20,

Q. 20:65–70, Q. 26:43–6, Q. 27:10 and Q. 28:31). Indeed, al-Ghazā lī declares:

‘I believe in the veracity of Muḥammad – peace be upon him – and in the veracity of

Moses – peace be upon him – not by reason of the splitting of the moon, and the

changing of the staff into serpent: for that way is open to ambiguity and one may not

rely on it.’15 He even goes on to say that anyone who believes in the veracity of a

prophet ’s mission because of the changing of the staff into a serpent ends up

worshipping the golden calf, again referencing Moses’ celebrated miracle, here in

addition to the golden calf incident mentioned in the Qur ’an (Q. 2:51ff., Q. 2:93,

Q. 7:148 and Q. 20:88ff.). Rather than on the basis of miracles, then, one should

believe a prophet on the basis of the consistency and truthfulness of this prophetic

message, only then is one’s knowledge of the prophet assured, it becomes ‘a necessary

knowledge’, a knowledge that cannot be brought about by any number of miracles,

and the conviction is clearer than the conviction resulting were the prophet ‘to change

a thousand sticks into snakes’.16



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Some scholars have been puzzled by al-Ghazā lī’s apparently contradictory remarks.

Indeed, at rst sight it seems irreconcilable that in some of his writings al-Ghazā lī

insists that miracles do not count much for the formation of one’s religious convictions

while in Tahā fut he strongly defends the literal sense of miracle stories in the Qur ’an.17

I suggest that the contradiction appears only if we interpret al-Ghazā lī’s defence of the

plain sense of miracles as a way of defending the evidentiary value of miracles. Yet,

that may not be the case at all. It may well be that al-Ghazā lī’s insistence on the

possibility of reading miracle stories literally is not about emphasising the convincing

power of miracles. What is it about, then? A closer look at how al-Ghazā lī defends the

literal meaning of miracle stories can give be of use here.

In the process of demonstrating that a literal reading of miracles is logically coherent,al-Ghazā lī offers a critical analysis of natural determinism. He argues that in nature we

observe one event following the other consistently, such as re and burning, but we do

not observe that one actually produces the other. Thus, the causal relationship we posit

between two things in nature (e.g. ‘re causes burning’) as well as the suggestion that

such relationship is irreversible (e.g. ‘re has to burn’) is in fact a mental habit, rather

than an empirical reality ‘out there’ or logical necessity. In other words, al-Ghazā lī’s

very defence involves a re-conceptualisation of the whole notion of natural causality,

and a philosophical formulation of how the natural order is not a logical given but a continuously re-enacted divine gift. Thus, miracle stories enable al-Ghazā lī to look at

natural causation anew, and recognising its contingence, he arrives at a more profound

sense of one’s relation to natural causality and its sustainer. It should be noted that

al-Ghazā lī’s argumentation on this point was not only theologically signicant but

also constituted a watershed in philosophy. As Taneli Kukkonen notes, al-Ghazā lī’s

critique of natural determinism and his distinction between mental and empirical was

a philosophical breakthrough, anticipating David Hume’s and Immanuel Kant ’s

revolutions in Western epistemology.18

Al-Ghazā lī makes it clear that by his defence of the possibility of change in the usual

course of nature he does not at all suggest that one has to give up his daily habit of

expecting things to behave in certain ways. Hence, one may accept the theoretical

possibility that the natural order can be reversed at any minute (since it is utterly

contingent), but be certain in daily life that such a reversal will not take place. Thus,

one may suggest, for instance, that the virgin birth narrative of Jesus in the Qur ’an

does not require that in everyday life a believer should expect virgins to suddenlyconceive. For al-Ghazā lī, belief in the possibility of change in nature conrms God’s

omnipotence, while expecting the ordinary course of nature to continue conrms

God’s wisdom 19

and mercy.20

Needless to say, a detailed analysis of al-Ghazā lī’s philosophical defence of

miracles is beyond the scope of this article. What is signicant for our purpose,



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however, is the fact that al-Ghazā lī takes the trouble to offer a profound and

detailed logical analysis so as to defend a literal reading of miracle stories. He

undertakes this defence despite the fact that (1) he does not always regard miracles

as crucial evidences for faith; (2) he does not suggest that one should give up

one’s daily certainty about the ordinary course of nature; and (3) he interprets

other Qur ’anic verses non-literally. (Indeed, al-Ghazā lī argues that there are some

verses whose non-literal interpretation is essential and others whose non-literal

readings are preferable over literal ones.21) In other words, al-Ghazā lī insists on

reading miracle stories literally not because he is a strict literalist, nor because he

thinks we should not expect the natural order to continue, and neither because he sees

miracles as strong evidences for faith. What, then, is the point of his insistence that

miracle narratives in the Qur ’an should be read literally? As noted earlier, it is a way

of suggesting that despite its consistent maintenance, the natural order is not a logical

given but a divine gift. The gift is real and is experienced in a regular fashion and yet

cannot be taken for granted as if it had to be. Hence, al-Ghazā lī’s interpretation

offers a profound reading of the miracle stories: for him they are not entertaining

tales about ancients, nor do they have a magical convincing power for faith, rather

they usher a new way of looking at the ordinary, the everyday. To reiterate, the crucial

message in these stories for him is not that patterns in nature will be interrupted

at arbitrary points. Rather, the point is to understand that there is no logical or

empirical basis to claim that nature works on its own, and that instead one should

receive natural order as a divine gift; in awe and gratitude. This interpretation of

miracle stories is indeed very Qur ’anic and ts in quite well with the wider

emphasis of the Qur ’an on the natural world as full of divine signs. In sum, within

al-Ghazā lī’s apparently puzzling remarks on miracles, one can discern a way of

reading the miracle stories that actually takes into account the overall approach of the

Qur ’an. Let us now turn to another interpreter, Ibn Rushd, who, writing around half a

century later, deeply disagreed with al-Ghazā lī’s analysis of natural causality in the

light of miracle stories.

Ibn Rushd on Miracle Stories in the Qur’an

As is well known, in response to al-Ghazā lī, Ibn Rushd wrote Tahā fut al-Tahā fut

(‘The Incoherence of the Incoherence’), in which he systematically quotes and

critiques al-Ghazā lī’s arguments. In the case of interpreting miracle stories, Ibn Rushd

rejects the very conclusion al-Ghazā lī sought to establish: the possibility of change

in the course of nature. For Ibn Rushd, to admit the possibility of change, even on a

theoretical level, destroys the certainty of scientic knowledge. If one were to read

miracle stories as temporary interruptions of the natural order, then scientic

knowledge based on this order would not be certain and the distinction between

certainty and conjecture would collapse.



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According to Ibn Rushd, the existence of necessary causation within nature is a

demonstrative truth based on empirical facts. It is before our very eyes that things

affect, cause, produce and inuence other things. Al-Ghazā lī had claimed that we do

not actually observe causal connections between things, but only observe that certain

things go together, like re and burning. He had insisted that we never actually

observe that re produces burning (and further argued that the real agent of burning is

the One who makes both the re and the burning). According to Ibn Rushd, this

distinction is mere sophistry; any reasonable person would admit that he or she does

observe causal connections in nature and that they are logically necessary.22 If one

were to question this, there would be no room left for human knowledge and

reasoning, and all the sciences would vanish:23

Denial of cause implies the denial of knowledge, and denial of

knowledge implies that nothing in this world can be really known, and

that what is supposed to be known is nothing but opinion, that neither

proof nor denition exist, and that the essential attributes which

compose denitions are void.

Thus, Ibn Rushd argues that there must be irreversible causal links between things.

And, accordingly, it does not seem possible to read miracle stories in the Qur ’an

literally.

It should be noted that Ibn Rushd refrains from explicitly addressing miracle

stories at length: he believes that it is better for the ‘demonstrative class’, i.e. the

philosophers, not to discuss this matter. Indeed, he nds it signicant that ‘we do

not nd that any of the ancient philosophers discuss miracles, although they

were known and had appeared all over the world’.24 Why would Ibn Rushd

want the discussion of miracles to be skipped by the demonstrative class? For

two reasons: the rst is to let the common person benet from the miracles intheir own way, and the second is his belief, similar to that held by al-Ghazā lī,

that miracles do not have demonstrative value in establishing the veracity of the

prophets.

As for the rst aim of letting the common person benet from miracle stories,

Ibn Rushd notes that a philosopher should not publicly attack the literal interpretation

of miracle stories. To be sure, the philosopher ’s commitment to the necessity of

natural causation is not compatible with the common person’s literal reading of

miracle stories, which assumes that natural causality is suspended for the sake of the

prophet ’s mission. Yet, the philosopher has to respect the common person and must

not voice his disagreement, for the literal sense of the miracles impresses the common

person and makes him trust the prophetic message. It encourages him to follow the

revelation, which will enable him to attain the virtues necessary for happiness in this

world and in the afterlife. Since the philosopher is a supporter of virtue, he should



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support its attainment through belief in miracles, and not disclose the demonstrative

approach to the public.25

For Ibn Rushd, another reason for not discussing miracles is that a wondrous event isonly an indication given to the prophets, but it is in no way a proof of prophecy. The

real proof of prophecy is the message of the prophet. Thus, Ibn Rushd notes that

Muḥammad’s greatest miracle, as attested also by the tradition, was the message he

brought from God. Only this kind of miracle can count as evidence:26

The clearest of miracles is the Venerable Book of God, [the Qur ’an],

the existence of which is not an interruption of the course of nature

assumed by tradition, like the changing of a rod into a serpent, but its

miraculous nature is established by way of perception and

consideration for every man who has been or who will be till the

day of resurrection. And so this miracle is far superior to all others.

Indeed, only by considering the wisdom and truthfulness of the message or scripture

(shar ʿ ), can one conrm the veracity of the messenger.27 It is noteworthy that

Ibn Rushd, like al-Ghazā lī, refers to a frequent Qur ’anic motif – Moses’ staff turning

into a serpent – when questioning the value of physical miracles as proofs for faith.

Ibn Rushd further notes that the question of establishing the veracity of a prophet is a historical question, rather than a philosophical one. Philosophically, one only af rms

the possibility of a class of people who have been chosen by God to communicate

guidance to human beings. This possibility of existence of a messenger is agreed

upon, with the exception of materialists or naturalists (dahriyya). The exact question

of who these people were can be ascertained by looking at the historical reports, and

thus there is no need to try to discuss them theoretically.28

In sum, a miracle is not something that Ibn Rushd nds crucial for his purposes of

believing in a prophet; nor does he want to undo the edifying effect of miracle stories

on the common person. In these points, his approach is reminiscent to al-Ghazā lī’s,

who also questioned and even criticised the evidentiary value of miracles in some of

his writings, though in his other works he suggested that miracles serve as evidence

for faith. The only difference is that, unlike al-Ghazā lī, Ibn Rushd does not see

miracles as philosophically signicant, and he is satised to skip a detailed discussion

of miracles by saying that they are divine things beyond human understanding (‘huwa

amr al-il āhī muʿ jaz

ʿan idr āk al-

ʿuqūl al-insāniyya

’).

29

Our brief analysis of al-Ghazā lī and Ibn Rushd shows that the reception history of

the Qur ’an contains some very interesting engagements with miracle stories. Both

al-Ghazā lī and Ibn Rushd seek to make sense of miracle stories within their overall

understanding of the Qur ’an. Ibn Rushd recognises a tension in the literal meaning as

an unavoidable one given that the Qur ’an is serving different audiences, including the



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common person and the philosophers. Ibn Rushd’s reading of miracle stories

also reveals a justied concern for the stability of human knowledge about nature:

if one allows the possibility of miracles, how can one go about one’s daily business

trusting that the usual course of nature will continue? Ibn Rushd also expresses

concern about the strength of the evidentiary value of miracles. Al-Ghazā lī seems to

have anticipated and shared many of Ibn Rushd’s concerns, hence his insistence that

the acceptance of miracles does not undo our everyday certainty about natural order

and also his recognition that miracles do not necessarily work as decisive evidences

for faith.

Unlike Ibn Rushd, however, al-Ghazā lī sees a universal value in Qur ’anic miracle

stories. By deconstructing the alleged necessity of natural causality in the context of his defence of miracle stories, al-Ghazā lī reads miracle stories as reminders that we

should see the natural order as divine gift. In the following section, we shall turn to a

contemporary Muslim thinker ’s interpretation of miracle stories that seems to

incorporate both al-Ghazā lī’s insistence on reinterpreting natural causality in the light

of the Qur ’an, as well as Ibn Rushd’s insistence that the miracle stories can not be read

in a manner that undermines scientic inquiry.

A Contemporary Interpretation of Miracle Stories: The Case of Said Nursi

Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (1887–1960) was a Muslim exegete and thinker whose

life-time spanned the nal decades of the Ottoman Empire, its collapse and dissolution

after the First World War, and the rst 37 years of the nascent secular Turkish

Republic, which was notorious for religious oppression, especially until the 1950s.

Nursi had a comprehensive traditional education and also independently studied

the sciences of the time, particularly mathematics and the natural sciences. He taught

as a professor in a graduate seminary and also served as an expert scholar as part

of Dā rül Hikmet-il Islā miye, the highest religious institution of the Ottoman Empire at

the time.30 Nursi’s approach to miracle stories in the Qur ’an attempts to relate these

stories to the life of a contemporary reader.

Nursi’s magnum opus, the Risale-i Nur (‘Epistles of Light ’), was written mainly

in Ottoman Turkish, with some crucial parts penned in Arabic. In the Risale,

Nursi attempts to present an interpretation of the Qur ’an in a way that appeals to

both heart and mind, by offering a close reading of the Qur ’an and critically bringing

the traditional legacy of Qur ’anic exegesis, ḥad ī th, Ṣūsm and Islamic theology

into conversation with contemporary issues. In this respect, as Oliver Leaman has

suggested, the Risale can be regarded as part of ‘the I ḥ ya [Revival] Tradition’, as a

project of reviving the faith for the modern age.31 Similarly, Sait Ozervarli notes that

Nursi contributed to the revival of kal ām by broadening its scope and restructuring it

as a Qur ’anic theology.32



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The Risale’s exegesis of the Qur ’an does not take the form of a running commentary.

Rather, its volumes are composed of pieces written thematically or as letters to

disciples, and are saturated with exegesis of different Qur ’anic verses throughout.

Nursi usually starts a chapter or a treatise with a selected set of verses, raises a

general thesis question whose answer will be constituted by an interpretation of these

verses, and then proceeds to the discussion. The discussion constructs a framework

within which the selected verses can be interpreted or expounds a profound principle

that sheds light on these verses. One treatise, for instance, cites the verses about God’s

immediate control of each being and then proceeds to explain in detail how tawḥī d can

be derived from a close observation of the world.33 Another treatise about ‘gratitude’

rst notes that gratefulness is constantly mentioned in the Qur ’an and then proceeds to

explain why this is so by discussing how gratitude is implied in the very ontology

of beings and is dignifying to the human self.34 Throughout, the Risale not only

offers commentary on the verses cited in the beginning of each treatise but often also

brings in many other verses in paraphrased form or as direct citations. Aware of

the exegetical nature of his work, Nursi himself claims that it is a ‘manevi tefsir ’

(Ar. tafsī r maʿnawiyya), an exegesis that cogently expounds the truths of belief in the

Qur ’an.35 Many sections of the Risale are also devoted to issues of Qur ’anic

hermeneutics: how to dene and approach the Qur ’an, principles of its interpretation

and how to reconcile apparent contradictions.36

After this brief introduction to Nursi’s work, I shall now look at how his commentary

on miracle stories offers a nuanced way of making sense of these stories within the

Qur ’anic discourse. His approach is reminiscent of al-Ghazā lī’s in that he takes the

literal sense of the stories as worthy of reection, and it also connects with

Ibn Rushd’s concerns by making connections to modern science and technology.

Nursi offers a reading of miracle stories in the Qur ’an that may be relevant for a

contemporary reader.

Nursi on the Miraculous and the Ordinary

According to Nursi, one of the main purposes of the Qur ’an is to re-present what is

familiar and usual to the reader under a new and fresh light. The Qur ’anic discourse

aims to tear apart the ‘veil of familiarity’ that the reader often casts over the things in

nature:37

With its acute expositions, the Qur ’an of Miraculous Exposition rends

the veil of familiarity and the habitual cast [sic] over all the beings in

the universe, which are known as ordinary things but are in fact each

extraordinary and a miracle of Divine Power. [It] reveals those

astonishing wonders to conscious beings. It attracts their gazes and

opens up for minds an inexhaustible treasury of knowledge.



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In other words, for Nursi, a central concern of the Qur ’anic discourse is to show that

what is often overlooked simply because of its familiarity is in fact miraculous, a

miracle of God. Nursi’s use of the term ‘miracle’ to refer to ordinary occurrences must

be intentional here. Indeed, throughout the Risale he repeatedly uses the term mu ʿjiza

to refer to the wonderfulness of everyday events that call for the existence and the

qualities of a transcendent being. Nursi uses the term mucize-i kudret , i.e. ‘miracle of

divine power ’, to refer to ordinary events, such as rain, the growth of a ower, and so

on.38 In his very use of the term ‘miracle’ to refer to ‘ordinary’, he is suggesting a

redenition of what a miracle is, which is also in agreement with the literal sense of

the term in Arabic. Since mu ʿjiza literally means ‘that which renders weak, that which

overwhelms’, a miracle is anything that the natural causes are incapable of producing.

That is, whenever a result ‘overwhelms’ its natural cause, i.e. whenever we realise that

a regular result associated with an apparent natural cause is in fact beyond the capacity

of that apparent cause, we are justied in calling it ‘a miracle’, even if it happens

repeatedly and frequently. Thus, for instance, the production of breast milk is a

miracle and a sign of the Sustainer. This is not because it is unusual, nor because the

natural causes associated with the production of breast milk are unknown. Rather, the

production of breast milk is a miracle because it overwhelms the capacity of

the natural causes associated with it.39 The cells, the hormones, etc. do not have

the mercy, wisdom, knowledge and power to create such a timely, nutritious, suitable

food for the infant. There is, according to Nursi, a transcendental gap between an

apparent cause and its result and it is this gap that calls for an absolute Maker

working through the apparent causes.40 For Nursi, even human inventions, such as

electricity, are actually ‘a miracle of divine power ’. The apparent causes of electricity,

namely ‘blind and lifeless particles’ being completed in a circuit, cannot be the

real creator of kilometres of darkness being turned into light in half a second.41 The

result does go beyond the capacity of its apparent causes, and therefore points to

the source of the light (God as al-nūr ) who, through the blind particles, enlightens the

darkness.42

Nursi’s interpretation of nature as continuously created and as revealing the

attributes of the Creator is not radically new in the Muslim tradition. It is in line

with traditional Sunnī and Ṣūf ī theology. Nursi’s metaphors and explanations are,

however, often new and, not surprisingly, more suited to a modern audience. What is

signicant for the purposes of this study is the fact that Nursi presents the

reinterpretation of natural causality as a central aim of the Qur ’an. Time and again,

Nursi notes that the mission of the revelation is to decipher the world and to reveal

the ‘treasures’ in nature, i.e. His messages embedded in nature about God’s qualities,

such as His mercy, power and wisdom. The primary task of divine revelation and its

exposition by a messenger of God is to disclose to people the miracles in everyday

life.43



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Nursi’s Rereading of Everyday Life in Light of Qur’anic Miracle Stories

At this point, one may observe that Nursi’s redenition of the concept of miracle

makes sense of the juxtaposition of miracle stories with the de-emphasis on themiraculous in the Qur ’an. That is, Nursi takes the Quranic emphasis on natural signs

as a cue to interpret the miracle stories. Indeed, Nursi suggests that miracle stories, as

stories of interruption of the ordinary course of nature, invite the reader of the Qur ’an

to rethink the uninterrupted ordinary course of nature. Thus, for instance, Abraham ’s

miraculous survival in re because of the divine command (Q. 21:69) is meant to

suggest that when the re does burn at other times, it does so because of God’s

command, not because of its ‘blind’ nature and on its own.44 In other words, for Nursi,

the miracle story of re cooling off with God’s command teaches the reader that ineveryday life re burns because of God’s agency.

A more detailed example of how Nursi understands Qur ’anic miracle stories as

highlighting the ordinary course of nature is to be found in his treatise devoted to the

Qur ’anic phrase ‘bi’smi’ll āh’ (in the name of God ). The treatise explains that all things

in nature recite bi’smi’ll āh all the time, albeit not literally with tongues or human-like

voices, but with lisān al-ḥāl , that is through the very way they come into being,

function, and pass away. In what follows, I shall analyse the reasoning through which

Nursi connects his explanation of the ontological basis of bi’smi’ll āh to miracle stories

in the Qur ’an.

First, Nursi offers a simple parable for his common reader to clarify his understanding

of the Qur ’an in relation to the natural world:45

If you were to see that a single person had come and had driven all the

inhabitants of a town to a place and compelled them to work, you

would be certain that he had not acted in his own name and through his

own power, but that he was a soldier, acting in the name of the

government and relying on the power of a king.

Here, Nursi is arguing the need to refer to an unseen agent by showing the

incapacity (ʿacz) of apparent causes. If there is a mismatch between one’s

individual strength and what she accomplishes, the latter being more than her

capacity, than it must be that she is not acting in her name, with her own power,

but acting in the name of, i.e. through the power of, something greater who is

supporting her. Thus, if one person is able to make the whole town obey him, it

cannot be that he is acting in his own name as a mere citizen who happens to

have ideas about what everyone else should do. Rather, he must be acting in the name

of an authority, such as a government that does have power over each citizen.

Applying the same logic embodied in the parable to everyday observation, Nursi

suggests:46



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In the same way, all things act in the name of Almighty God, for

minute things like seeds and grains bear huge trees … they raise loads

like mountains. That means all trees say: ‘In the Name of God,’ ll up

their hands from the treasury of Mercy, and offer them [the fruits] to

us. All gardens say: ‘In the Name of God,’ and become caldrons of the

kitchens of Divine Power in which are cooked numerous varieties of

different foods. All blessed animals, such as cows, camels, sheep, and

goats, say: ‘In the Name of God,’ and become fountains of milk from

the abundance of Mercy, offering us a most delicate and pure

sustenance … in the name of the Provider. The roots and rootlets, soft

as silk, of all plants, trees, and grasses, say: ‘In the Name of God,’ and

pierce and pass through hard rock and earth. Mentioning the name of

God, the name of the Most Merciful, everything becomes subjected to

them.

In other words, according to Nursi, we repeatedly observe natural actors that are

accomplishing results beyond their apparent power. This shows that they must be

acting in the name of an all-powerful One, i.e. be empowered through the One, instead

of acting on their own. That is, a close analysis of the natural events calls for the

agency of an unseen One who enables a minute seed to ourish into a huge tree, a fruit tree to bear fruits, animals to produce milk, and so on. Not surprisingly most of

Nursi’s examples from nature are Qur ’anic (see, for example, Q. 2:22, Q. 6:95,

Q. 6:141, Q. 7:57, Q. 14:32 and Q. 16:66).

After having explained the idea of God acting through natural causes, or natural

causes acting in God’s name, Nursi then makes a connection with the miracle stories

in the Qur ’an. He connects Moses’ miracle as mentioned in the Qur ’an with the

everyday phenomenon of ‘roots spreading through hard rock and earth’. He claims

that whenever a root pierces through the soil to reach to a water resource, it is a re-

enactment of Moses’ miracle of splitting the rock with his staff and bringing forth

water: ‘like the Staff of Moses, each of those silken rootlets conform to God’s

command of, And We said, ‘O Moses, strike the rock with your staff ’ [Q. 2:60]’.47

Similarly, the natural phenomenon of ‘delicate green leaves retain[ing] their moisture

for months in the face of extreme heat ’48 is a re-enactment of Abraham ’s miraculous

survival in the midst of blazing re: ‘the delicate leaves thin as cigarette paper

recite the verse, O re be cool and safe for Abraham [Q. 21:69] against the heat of the re, each like the body of Abraham ’.49 Hence, the Qur ’anic miracle stories

serve as reminders of everyday miracles and provide counter-arguments against

naturalists who deem natural causes ef cient on their own. Thus, Nursi concludes:

‘even heat and hardness, in which you [naturalists] most trust, are under a [divine]

command’.50



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It is worth repeating that for Nursi daily events are wonders, not because the apparent

causes have not yet been discovered, but because the apparent causes are insuf cient

to breach the transcendental gap between them and the effects. In the case of rootlets

piercing through hard soil, for instance, one may discover that these delicate leaves

release a secretion with which the soil is pierced. Yet, the knowledge of this secretion

does not obviate the need for an unseen maker. Rather, the production and secretion of

such a liquid, as well as such liquid’s apparent ability to digest the hard soil, points

again to the wisdom and power of an agent other than the poor, unconscious rootlets.

Therefore, Nursi’s interpretation of miracle stories in relation to everyday events starts

with accepting the apparent cause-effect relations we assume in nature, and seeing the

very conjunction of a natural cause with its effect as a sign of the Divine. Since this

approach does not rest on the denial of empirical data, or on the ignorance of natural

causes, it addresses Ibn Rushd’s concern that science be protected from mythical

interpretations of miracles.51 In what follows, we shall observe how Nursi makes a

further connection between science and miracles.

Nursi’s Reading of Miracle Stories in Relation to Science and Technology

According to Nursi, just as the prophets in the Qur ’an are exemplary gures to follow,

the stories of their miracles ‘are not merely historical stories, but rather comprisenumerous meanings of guidance’.52 He suggests that one of these guiding messages is

to ‘trace the nal limit of man’s science and industry’ and encourage him to go

forward toward that goal.53 Indeed, Nursi argues that:54

Just as the all-wise Qur ’an sends the Prophets to human communities

as leaders and vanguards in respect of spiritual and moral progress, so

too it gives each of them some wonders and makes them the masters

and foremen in regard to humankind’s material progress … Thus, just

as by speaking of the spiritual and moral perfections of the Prophets, it

is encouraging people to benet from them, so too in discussing their

miracles, it is encouragingly hinting [that we can] attain to things

similar to them and imitate them.

Nursi offers examples of miracle stories in the Qur ’an that he interprets in this vein as

encouragements to discover, in God’s name, further wonders in nature. One example

is the mention of speedy winds at the service of Solomon: and [We subjected] the

wind for Solomon. Its outward journey took a month, and its return journey likewise

(Q. 34:12). Nursi understands this verse to mean that Solomon travelled in the air and

covered the distance of two months’ journey in a single day. And, he nds in it an

indication that human beings can progress to discover speedy means of travel and, by

telling this story, the Qur ’an is indirectly encouraging the reader to discover those

means. Indeed for Nursi, through this verse the Creator is speaking to human beings



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saying, ‘O human being! I mounted one of my servants on the air because he gave up

the desires of his soul. If you too give up the soul ’s laziness and benet thoroughly

from certain of my laws in the cosmos, you too may mount it …’.55 In a similar vein,

Nursi interprets Moses’ miraculous staff with which he readily brings forth water from

the rock (Q. 2:60 and Q. 7:160), as encouragement to nd tools to drill the earth in

order to reach its resources. Another example is Jesus’ healing miracles in the Qur ’an:

[Jesus said] I will heal the blind and the leper, and bring the dead back to life with

God ’s permission (Q. 3:49). Nursi notes that, just as Jesus’ spiritual description

provides examples for human moral conduct, so too do his miracle stories have an

exemplary dimension: ‘ just as the Qur ’an explicitly urges man to follow Jesus’ (upon

whom be peace) high morals, so too it allusively encourages him towards the elevated

art and Godly medicine of which he was the master ’.56 One day, Nursi predicts,

medical technology will also be able to temporarily reverse death, as anticipated in

Jesus’ miracle story in the Qur ’an.57

It is interesting to note that Nursi sees no tension between his ‘pro-tech’ interpretation

and the spiritual interpretation of the verse.58 God has given two gifts to Jesus: ‘one

was the remedy for spiritual ills, and the other the cure for physical sicknesses. Thus,

dead hearts were raised to life through the light of guidance. And sick people who

were as though dead found health through his breath and cure.’59

Within the samemiracle narrative, God is both encouraging the believer to seek to internalise Jesus’

message, and also to seek further development in medicine: ‘you too can nd the cure

for every ill in the pharmacy of My wise [creation].’60 Along similar lines, one could

suggest that ‘the virgin birth narrative can also be taken as hinting at the horizons of

reproductive technology and helping the reader to entertain the possibility of

conception even when sexual intercourse is unsuccessful’.61

As Kelton Cobb notes, Nursi’s connection between miracle narratives and current

technology may come across more like reading into the text rather than reading of the

text.62 Yet, it is clear that Nursi, as an insider, is working with the assumption that it is

genuinely the all-knowing God who is speaking in the Qur ’an and addressing not only

the context of rst/seventh centuryArabia but also the later centuries till the end of

time.63 Indeed, Nursi believes that ‘as the time is getting older, the Qur ’an is getting

younger ’.64 Thus, his reading is not the result of a naive conation of exegesis and

eisegesis, but a self-conscious attempt on the part of a believer to read the Qur ’an as

speaking to his contemporary context.

Moreover, Nursi emphasises that what he sees as a Qur ’anic encouragement of

technological development is a vague and indirect meaning of these passages; it is

contained in the Qur ’an as a hint rather than an explicit statement.65 It makes perfect

sense to him that encouragement for technology is a hint: since the Qur ’an’s main aim

is to teach about the Creator and eternal life, technological development disconnected



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from faith, purely for its own sake, would not be worthy of mention in the Qur ’an.66

Nursi is hopeful, however, that there are people who have the skill and the

understanding to put these indirect suggestions into their proper worshipful contexts,

and that miracle stories are suf ciently encouraging for them:67

… if there are among you [readers of the Qur ’an] respected craftsmen

and artists and inspired inventors, who, purely for the benet of God’s

servants, serve the general interest and public well-being and

betterment of social life, which is a valuable worship, these signs

and indications of the Qur ’an are surely suf cient for those sensitive

people, who of course form a minority, in order to encourage their

efforts and appreciate their art.

Conclusion

Miracle stories in sacred texts have been a source of both fascination and heated

debate across religious traditions. To my mind, what makes the Qur ’anic miracle

stories especially interesting, and even initially puzzling, is the fact that they are

part of a discourse that also de-emphasises the miraculous. Indeed, in this article,

I repeatedly raised two questions about the interpretation of miracle stories in

the Qur ’an. The rst related to what I presented as a curious juxtaposition: miracle

stories being narrated side by side with criticism of demands for miracles and

emphasis on natural signs. The second related to the edifying framework of the

Qur ’an: if Qur ’anic claims for its own coherence and its function in terms of guidance

are to be taken seriously, how could these stories be interpreted as edifying? Here,

I noted a contrast between supernatural events and other signs mentioned in the

Qur ’anic discourse: while the reader has immediate access to signs occurring in nature

(as well as the Qur ’anic message which is presented as a sign in itself), he or she does

not seem to have any way of witnessing the supernatural events narrated in the

Qur ’an.

In my analysis, I rst noted a common traditional approach to the miracle stories in the

Qur ’an. Traditional interpreters often make a distinction between Muḥammad’s

audience and the audiences of earlier messengers. Thus, it was understood that while

supernatural events were needed for prophets preaching to ancient people, the last

prophet ’s miracle had to be more appropriate to the message, so as to be relevant to

rst/seventh century Arabia as well as henceforth until the end of time. I noted that

even though this approach justies the de-emphasis of supernatural events in

Muḥammad’s mission, it does not quite engage with the question of how the audience

of the Prophet is supposed to relate to the miracle stories in the Qur ’an.

Next, I turned to two crucial medieval Muslim interpreters, namely al-Ghazā lī and

Ibn Rushd, who grappled with implications of miracle stories. My analysis revealed



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that both al-Ghazā lī and Ibn Rushd seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the idea

that miracles counted as decisive proofs for the truthfulness of a messenger.

Moreover, both rejected as fanciful the idea that miracle stories undermine everyday

certainty about natural order. Yet, there were also pronounced differences in their

interpretations. Taking his cue from miracle stories, al-Ghazā lī offered a sophisticated

critique of natural determinism and argued for the logical possibility of miracles. In

contrast, Ibn Rushd dismissed al-Ghazā lī’s critique as sophistry and maintained that

accepting the possibility of suspensions in natural order was an affront to human

knowledge and science. It seems that Ibn Rushd sensed a tension between the ordinary

and miraculous in the Qur ’an, and was responding by dividing the audience of the

Qur ’an into two. He suggested that the demonstrative class will notice the tension but

will be willing to overlook it so as to make room for ordinary class of believers who

are impressed by miracle stories. Ibn Rushd’s ultimate response of glossing over the

tension seemed less than satisfactory for the purposes of this article, while al-

Ghazā lī’s response seemed quite promising in showing how these stories could have

an important edifying function for all readers.

This article noted that al-Ghazā lī’s critique of natural causation was a philosophical

breakthrough in that it distinguished between our mental habits of expecting natural

order to continue and the ontological status of that order. More signicant wasthe crucial exegetical moment it brought. Al-Ghazā lī’s detailed argument for

demonstrating that natural order is contingent, even though we are justied in daily

life to expect it to continue, served to highlight that the continuation of the order is a

divine gift, not a logical given. Al-Ghazā lī’s interpretation was all the more intriguing

given that he was not a thorough-going literalist in Qur ’anic interpretation, and that

he expressed hesitations about evidentiary value of miracles. Thus, I argued that his

deconstruction of natural causality so as to allow a literal reading of miracle stories is

a way of reinterpreting the natural order in the light of miracle stories.

In the second part of this article, I turned to a contemporary Muslim interpretation,

which offered a crystallisation of al-Ghazā lī’s insight as well as, surprisingly, an

indirect conrmation of Ibn Rushd’s concerns about knowledge and science. In my

analysis of the Risale-i Nur , I showed how Said Nursi provocatively employs the term

‘miracle’ to talk about the ordinary. Nursi insists that the source of his redenition of

natural as ‘miraculous’, i.e. as worthy of wonder and awe, is the Qur ’an. According to

him, a central purpose of the Qur ’an is to usher in a new perspective on the familiar

and the ordinary. Conrming al-Ghazā lī’s logic, Nursi explains in different ways,

through empirical examples as well as metaphors, that apparent/natural causes do not

explain their effects and actually call for the agency of a transcendent agent. Hence,

Nursi brings out al-Ghazā lī’s insight more clearly: a meaningful interpretation of

miracle stories is directly connected to an interpretation of nature in the light of the

Qur ’an. He reads the Qur ’anic miracle stories in the light of Qur ’anic emphasis on the



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ordinary course of nature: miracle stories are read as stimulating reminders to rethink

the ordinary course of nature as signs of God.

I also discussed how Nursi’s approach indirectly incorporates Ibn Rushd

’s justi

edconcern about human knowledge and the study of natural causes. Indeed, Nursi sees

in Qur ’anic miracle stories practical guidance about how to study nature. To him, if

prophetic stories are meant for guidance, then the stories of their miracles can also

give practical guidance. In Nursi’s interpretation, Qur ’anic miracle stories cannot be

taken as an excuse for neglecting the study of nature. Rather these very narratives

encourage scientic study by pointing to ‘horizons’ of possibilities in nature that will

be opened up by divine power. Thus, miracle stories are interpreted as indirect

encouragements to discover nature further and improve technology with theawareness that technology is also a divine gift. In other words, for Nursi, Qur ’anic

miracle stories suggest not only that technological wonders are possible, but also are

to be sought after in the name of the One who makes them possible.

In sum, the hermeneutical questions raised in this article about Qur ’anic miracle

stories have enabled us to investigate how different Muslim interpreters have read

these apparently puzzling narratives in diverse and fruitful ways. Not surprisingly,

in the realm of scriptural interpretation, there is often more than what initially meets

the eye.

NOTES

1 Throughout this article, the standard Egyptian numbering of the Qur ’an is used.

M.A.S. Abdel Haleem ’s English translation of the Qur ’an, The Qur ’an – A New Translation

by M.A.S. Abdel Haleem, Oxford World’s Classics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004) is

used, except where the Qur ’an is cited within another quote, in which case the quoted author ’stranslation is retained.

2 See, for example, Q. 2:2, Q. 2:185, Q. 3:138, Q. 10:57 and Q. 16:64.

3 As Fazlur Rahman also notes ‘the parallel (or even identity) between the revelation of the

Qur ’an and the creation of the universe has been pointed out by several Muslim authors who

have noted the numerous passages in which the revelation of the Qur ’an and the creation of

nature are coupled’ (Fazlur Rahman, Major Themes of the Qur ’an, 2nd edn (Kuala Lumpur:

Islamic Book Trust, 1999), p. 71). Indeed, sometimes in one passage the term ā ya is used in

these two different but related senses, referring both to revelation and natural world.

For instance: Alif Lam Mim Ra. These are the signs ( ā y ā t ) of the Scripture (kit ā b). What your

Lord has sent down to you [Prophet ] is the truth, yet most people do not believe. It is God who

raised up the heavens with no visible supports and then established Himself on the throne;

He has subjected the sun and the moon each to pursue its course for an appointed time;

He regulates all things , and makes the revelations ( ā y ā t ) clear so that you may be certain of

meeting your Lord. It is He who spread out the earth, placed rm mountains and rivers on it,

and made two of every kind of fruit; He draws the veil of night over the day. There truly are

signs ( ā y ā t ) in this for people who re ect (Q. 13:1–3, emphasis mine). Indeed, the Qur ’an often

associates the rejection of the Prophetic message with a rejection of the natural signs: however



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eagerly you may want them to, most men will not believe … and there are many signs ( ā y ā t ) in

the heavens and the earth that they pass by and give no heed to. (Q. 12:103–5, emphasis mine).

4 Rahman, Major Themes, p. 70.

5 The Qur ’an’s insistence that it does not contain ‘fables of the ancients’ (asāṭ ī r al-awwal ī n,Q. 6:25, Q. 8:31, Q. 16:24, Q. 23:83, Q. 25:5, Q. 27:68, Q. 46:17, Q. 68:15 and Q. 83:13) can

be understood as emphasising that the Qur ’anic stories are not told as mere fables, but for an

edifying purpose.

6 Denis Grill, art. ‘Miracles’ in Encyclopaedia of the Qur ʾ ān.

7 For contemporary examples of this traditional view, see Seyyed Hossein Nasr, The Heart

of Islam (New York: Harper Collins, 2002), p. 24; M. Sami M. Ali, Scienti c Miracles of the

Glorious Qur ’an, tr. Abdussamad Kyle (Syria: n.p., 1997), pp. 10–2.

8 Halil I. Bulut, Kuran Is ¸ığ ında Mucize ve Peygamber (Istanbul: Ragbet Yayinlari, 2002),

pp. 231–

2; see also Issa J. Boullata, ‘

The Rhetorical Interpretation of the Qur ’an: I

ʿ j ā z and

Related Topics’ in Andrew Rippin (ed.), Approaches to the History of Interpretation of the

Qur ’an (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 139–42.

9 These scholars also noted, however, that Muḥammad was given some additional miracles

to the Qur ’an by God, even though the Qur ’an was his central miracle. See Grill, art. ‘Miracles’.

10 While exploring the Ṣūf ī literature on the subject is beyond the scope of this article, I would

like to acknowledge that it does contain excellent examples of relating Qur ’anic stories to the

life of a believer. Interpreters such as Rūm ī and Ibn ʿArabī read the stories of the prophets,

including their miracles, as containing lessons for spiritual progress that is potentially applicable

to any reader. See, for instance, John Renard, All the King’s Falcons: Rumi on Prophets and

Revelation (New York: State University of New York Press, 1998) and Ibn ʿArabī, The Bezels

of Wisdom, tr. and intr. R.W.J. Austin (New York: Paulist Press, 1980).

11 Al-Ghazā lī, The Incoherence of the Philosophers, tr., intr. and annot. Michael E. Marmura

(Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 2000), p. 3.

12 Al-Ghazā lī, The Incoherence of the Philosophers, p. 3.

13 Al-Ghazā lī, Freedom and Ful llment, an Annotated Translation of al-Ghazāl ī ’s

al-Munqidh min al-ḍ alal and Other Relevant Works of al-Ghazāl ī , tr. Richard Joseph

McCarthy (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1980), p. 22. Similarly, in his Qisṭ ās al-mustaqī m,

al-Ghazā lī regards miraculous events as valueless when accompanied by a claim that is

irrelevant to what is accomplished by that miracle. If someone, for instance, claims to havemastered a topic, it would be more convincing for that person to demonstrate his knowledge by

telling what he knows rather than walking on water. His walking on water does not really count

as an evidence of his knowledge of an irrelevant topic. See al-Ghazā lī, Qist ās al-mustaqī m, ed.

S.J. Victor Chelhot (Beirut: Al-Ma ṭ ba ʿ a al-Kathoulīkiyya, 1959), p. 80.

14 Al-Ghazā lī, ‘The Correct Balance’ (a translation of Qist ās al-mustaqī m), in Freedom and

Ful llment , p. 316.

15 See al-Ghazā lī, Qisṭ ās al-mustaqī m, p. 80.

16 See al-Ghazā lī, Qist ās al-mustaqī m, p. 80.

17 See the introduction by Richard Joseph McCarthy in al-Ghazā lī, Freedom and Ful llment ,pp. l–li.

18 Taneli Kukkonen, ‘Possible Worlds in the Tahā fut al-Fal āsifa: Al-Ghazā lī on Creation and

Contingency’, Journal of the History of Philosophy 38 (2000), pp. 479–502, at p. 480.

19 In fact, in his exposition of one of God’s names, al-ḥakam (‘the Arbitrator ’), al-Ghazā lī

notes that a believer should not be anxious over what will happen in the future, and trust that

God has decreed a stable and wise pattern which cannot but be fullled: ‘It is necessary that it



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[whatever comes to be] exist: if it is not necessary in itself; it will be necessary by the eternal

decree which is irresistible. So man learns that what lies within [divine] power shall come to

exist and that anxiety is super uous’ (al-Ghazā lī, Al-Ghazāl ī on the Ninety-Nine Beautiful

Names of God: al-Maqṣad al-asnā f ī shar ḥ asmāʾ All āh al-ḥusnā, tr. D.B. Burrell and N. Daher

(Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, 1995), p. 90.

20 Hence, al-Ghazā lī’s suggestion that it is out of consideration of human welfare that certain

possibilities, such as the disclosure of the time of the Final Hour, are not enacted by God. See:

Nabih Amin Faris (tr. and annot.), The Foundations of the Articles of Faith: Being

A Translation with Notes of the Kit āb Qawāʿid al- ʿAqāʾid of al-Ghazāl ī ’s I ḥ yāʾ ʿUl ūm al-Dī n,

(Lahore: Sh. Muḥammad Ashraf, 1963), pp. 42–3.

21 Faris, The Foundations of the Articles of Faith, pp. 44–5, pp. 49–50.

22 Simon Van Den Bergh (tr., intr. and annot.), Averroes’ Tahā fut al-Tahā fut

(The Incoherence of the Incoherence) (2 vols, Oxford: Messrs. Luzac & Co, 1954), vol. 1,

p. 318. Leor Halevi comments that Ibn Rushd failed to appreciate the nuance of al-Ghaz ā lī’scontention because of the limitations of Aristotelian conceptions of causality. Averroes thought

that ‘matter acts according to its essence, not according to physical laws. Given such causal

explanations, it is unfortunate that Averroes dismissed Ghazā lī’s attack as mere sophistry’

(Leor Halevi, ‘The Theologian’s Doubts: Natural Philosophy and the Skeptical Games of

al-Ghazā lī’, Journal of the History of Ideas 63:1 (2002), pp. 19–39, at p. 24).

23 Van Den Bergh, Averroes’ Tahā fut al-Tahā fut , p. 320.


25 ‘The reason for this is that these are the principles of the acts through which man becomes

virtuous, and that one can only attain knowledge after the attainment of virtue. One must not investigate the principles which cause virtue before the attainment of virtue, and since the

theoretical sciences can only be perfected through assumptions and axioms which the learner

accepts in the rst place, this must be still more the case with the practical sciences’ (Van Den

Bergh, Averroes’ Tahā fut al-Tahā fut , p. 315).


27 Like al-Ghazā lī, Ibn Rushd says that if there are two people who claim to be physicians,

and one tries to prove it by treating the sick and the other tries to prove it by walking on water,

the former ’s proof is much stronger than the latter. See Ibn Rushd, Manāhij al-adilla f ī ʿaqāʾid

al-milla, ed. Mahm ūd Qā sim, 2nd edn (Cairo: Anglo-Eyptian Library, 1964), p. 212; Averroes,

Faith and Reason in Islam: Averroes’ Exposition of Religious Arguments, tr. Ibrahim Najjar

(Oxford: Oneworld, 2001), pp. 95–6.

28 Ibn Rushd, Manāhij , p. 215.

29 Van Den Bergh, Averroes’ Tahā fut al-Tahā fut , p. 322; Ibn Rushd, Tahā fut al-Tahā fut ,

ed. M. Bouyges (Beirut: Imprimerie Catholique, 1930), p. 509.

30 For summary of Nursi’s comprehensive intellectual training, see Colin Turner and

Hasan Horkuc, Said Nursi: Makers of Islamic Civilization (Oxford: I.B. Tauris, 2009),

pp. 5–19.

31 Leaman is here referring to the famous saying attributed to the Prophet Muḥammad, whichpredicts that in each age God will send a person from the Muslim community to revive the faith.

See Oliver Leaman, ‘Nursi’s Place in the Ihya Tradition’ in A Contemporary Approach

to Understanding the Qur ’an: The Example of the Risale-i Nur 20th – 22

nd September, 1998,

The Istanbul Foundation for Science and Culture (Istanbul: Sozler Nesriyat A.S., 2000),

pp. 707–17.

32 M. Sait Ozervarli, ‘Said Nursi’s Project of Revitalizing Contemporary Islamic Thought ’ in

Ibrahim Abu Rabi’ (ed. and intr.), Islam at the Crossroads: On the Life and Thought of



22/23

Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (New York: State University of New York Press, 2003), pp. 317–33,

at pp. 321–2. Nursi himself claimed to have brought out a new and profound reading of the

Qur ’an for the contemporary age as well as a renewal of the discipline of Islamic theology,

kal ām (Ziyad Khalil Muḥammad al Daghamin, ‘The Aims of the Qur ’an in Bediuzzaman Said

Nursi’s Thought ’ in A Contemporary Approach to Understanding the Qur ’an: The Example of

the Risale-i Nur 20th – 22

nd September, 1998, The Istanbul Foundation for Science and Culture

(Istanbul: Sozler Nesriyat A.S., 2000), pp. 353–79, at p. 379).

33 Said Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı (2 vols, Istanbul: Yeni Asya Yayınlar ı, 1996), vol.1,

pp. 125ff.

34 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol.1, pp. 520ff.

35 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol.1, p. 1089.

36 See Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol.1, pp. 49–55; pp. 97–109; pp. 160–203, pp. 1985 ff.,

etc.

37 Nursi, The Words: From the Risale-i Nur Collection, tr. Sukran Vahide, new and rev. edn

(Istanbul: Sozler Publication, 1998), p. 150. Nursi is critical of the attitude that privileges

‘freaks, which have fallen from being extraordinary, come out of the order of creation, and

deviated from the perfections of their true natures’. According to this approach, one ignores the

formation of innumerable healthy babies as commonplace, and regards only an abnormal baby,

e.g. one born with two heads, as worthy of wonder (Nursi, The Words, p. 150). (Unless

otherwise noted, translations from the Turkish original are from Sukran Vahide’s translation,

with my occasional minor modications.)

38 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol.1, p. 26, pp. 38–9, p. 83, p. 88, p. 91, p. 99, pp. 261–2,

p. 264, p. 275, p. 307, p. 311, p. 417, p. 487, p. 921, p. 940, p. 1,355, p. 1,368, etc.

39 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol.1, p. 921.

40 Nursi, The Words, p. 435.

41 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol. 2, p. 1,859.

42 Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı , vol. 2, p. 1,859.

43 See for instance: Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı , vol. 2, p. 26, p, 92. Thus, for instance,

according to Nursi the Qur ’anic perspective rejects the tendency to see a three-legged baby

more astonishing than a ‘normal baby’, or to see the survival of an insect in water more amazing

than the nourishment of young with breast milk (see also Nursi, The Words, p. 151.)


45 Nursi, The Words, p. 16 (italics mine).

46 Nursi, The Words, pp. 16–7.





51 For an example of Nursi’s more explicit use of knowledge of ‘natural causes’ as pointers to

God, see his discussion of the scientic description of the digestion of food and cleansing of the

blood in Nursi, The Words, p. 622, n. 3.


53 Nursi is not unique in suggesting this pro-tech interpretation of miracle stories. An Indian

Muslim scholar, Shiblī Nuʿm ā nī (1857–1914) similarly interprets miracle stories as pointing to

future technological development. See (in the Persian translation), Shiblī Nuʿm ā nī, Ilm-i

Kal ām-i Jad ī d , tr. M. Taki Fakhr Dai Kilani (Tehran: n.p., 1329), pp. 61–3; pp. 101–2, cited in



23/23

Ozervarli, ‘Said Nursi’s Project ’, p. 333, n. 68. The difference between Nursi and Nuʿm ā nī is

that Nursi does not see a tension between technological hints and the interpretation of miracle

stories as departures from normal course of nature.

54 Amended translation from Nursi, The Words, p. 262. Also see Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı

,vol. 2, p. 1,270.




58 Cf. Muhammad Asad, a contemporary interpreter of the Qur ’an, who renders the most of

the plain sense of this verse about Jesus’ miracles in spiritual terms. As for the healing miracles,

which is hard to render differently in translation, he adds a footnote saying that the healing

narratives should be taken in spiritual sense rather than literal sense. See Asad, Message of the

Qur ’an (Gibraltar: D

ā r al-Andal

ūs, 1984), n. 38 in ref. to Q. 3:49. Nursi

’s interpretation is

interesting in that he offers both readings and does not see a tension between the two.



61 Isra Yazicioglu, ‘The Use of Peirce’s Pragmatism for Qur ’anic Interpretation’, Journal of

Scriptural Reasoning 8:2 (2009), accessed at http://etext.virginia.edu/journals/ssr/issues/

volume8/number2/ssr08_02_e02.htm.

62 He insightfully notes that to his ‘own ears that are admittedly conditioned by modernity, it

feels a bit strained’ (Kelton Cobb, ‘Revelation, the Disciplines of Reason, and Truth in the

Works of Bediuzzaman Said Nursi and Paul Tillich’ in Ibrahim M. Abu-Rabi’ (ed.), Islam at theCrossroads: On the Life and Thought of Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (New York: State University

of New York Press, 2003), pp. 129–50, at p. 135.)

63 For Nursi’s denition of the Qur ’an as talking to all humanity till the end of time, see his

treatise on the Qur ’anic interpretation, See, Nursi, The Words, ‘25th Word’, esp. pp. 377–8.

64 See Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol. 2, p. 573, p. 2,340.


66 Nursi, The Words, p. 273. Elsewhere, Nursi notes that since the Qur ’an is speaking to all

ages, including centuries preceding the modern era where science and technology uncovered

many new things, it would be unwise for it to mention explicitly what is to become obviousonly centuries later. See: Nursi, Risale-i Nur Külliyat ı, vol. 2, p. 96.



Documents

Redefining the Miraculous: Imam al-Ghazali, Ibn Rushd and Bediuzzaman Said Nursi on Qur'anic Miracle Stories