Ramadan, Death, and a Nation Too Afraid of God
As Ramadan approaches, public discourse is often filled with narratives about death. Sermons, social media, and everyday conversations reiterate themes of the terrors of the grave, the horrors of the Day of Judgement, and the severity of divine reckoning. Unfortunately, death is often presented not as an enlightening reminder, but as a source of collective anxiety.
In mature Islamic thought, as passed down by Sufi scholars, death is positioned as an instrument of conscious awareness, not a tool of spiritual terror. Our understanding of death will determine how we observe Ramadan and how we build a national ethos.
Fear of death is often seen as an indicator of piety. However, scholars remind us that not all fear is virtuous. There is fear born of faith, but there is also fear stemming from a distorted perception of God.
Many fear death not because of their love for the afterlife, but because they feel their deeds are insufficient and their sins are too numerous. God is then imagined solely as a judge waiting for mistakes, rather than as the Most Merciful Lord.
Sheikh Ali Jum’ah, former Mufti of Egypt and a prominent contemporary Al-Azhar scholar, asserts that the most common mistake among Muslims is believing that good deeds are the primary means of salvation. “It is not one’s deeds that save humanity, but God’s mercy. Deeds are merely a means of drawing closer,” he states in many of his lectures. Ramadan is meant to correct this theological error.
Islam does not view death as the end of life. The Quran uses the term tawaff – to take completely – rather than annihilation. The soul does not vanish, but rather transitions from one realm to another.
This understanding is important because excessive fear of death often stems from the belief that death is total darkness. However, for the faithful, death is the beginning of a more honest life, free from social pretense and worldly vanity.
Imam Al-Ghazali describes death as a magnifying glass that reveals the true nature of humanity. Ramadan, with all its spiritual disciplines, is essentially a practice in facing this moment with awareness, not panic.
In popular religious discourse, the grave is often uniformly depicted as a place of torment. Similarly, the Day of Judgement is always associated with collective fear. However, Islam presents a much more balanced narrative.
Authentic hadiths state that the grave can be a garden of paradise for the faithful. The Quran and Sunnah also explain that on the Day of Judgement, many people will be under the shade of the Throne, sitting on cushions of light, and in a state of security.
Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi, a contemporary scholar also rooted in the Al-Azhar tradition of Egypt, once reminded us that a religion that only emphasizes threats will produce a generation of despair, not a generation of responsibility. “Islam came to build hope, not to kill the future,” he asserts.
In this context, Ramadan is not a month of mass fear, but a month of restoring the meaning of faith.
One of the main messages of Ramadan is the opening of the door to repentance. The Quran clearly states that God accepts the repentance of His servants and that His mercy encompasses all things. Even in the theology of the Ahlus Sunnah, God is not obligated to punish every sinner. He has the right to forgive whomever He wills.
This understanding is not a justification for moral violations, but rather the foundation of an ethic of responsibility. Those who have hope will not despair. A society that does not despair is a society that can improve itself.
This is where the relevance of Ramadan lies in national life. A nation that is too afraid of God tends to be quick to judge, eager to blame, and lacking in empathy. Conversely, a nation that understands the balance between justice and mercy will be more just, inclusive, and civilized.
In the context of Indonesia’s pluralistic and democratic society, the meaning of Ramadan must not be limited to personal rituals. It must become a public moral force. Awareness of death should lead to honesty, not panic; responsibility, not cynicism.
Ramadan teaches that power is temporary, positions will end, and history will record who used their authority for the common good, not just for momentary interests. This awareness is what is most needed in our political and social life today.
Ramadan is not just a month of worship, but a month of civilizational education. It teaches how humans view life, death, God, and each other. In Islam, death is not a tool to frighten people, but a mirror to build civilization.
If Ramadan is greeted with a complete understanding – a balance between fear and hope – it will not only produce pious individuals, but also honest, just, and responsible citizens. A nation built on such moral awareness is the one that will endure, not only in the face of history, but also in the presence of God.
May God Almighty grant us the strength of faith and piety. Amen.