An important lesson has been learned as a result of this fracas (and forgive me, but this is “The Journey of a Self-Centred Soul”) — it reveals the fragility of faith. Those words of the Prophet, peace be upon him, that before the Hour holding onto one’s religion would be like holding onto burning hot coals ring true. I have long been tolerant of our imams who insist on delivering their sermons in languages other than English (in England), but I am beginning to appreciate the fruits of this tolerance. Incomprehension does not only cut us off from our community, but more importantly from learning. My local mosque, to its credit, is beginning to address this oversight; a compromise has been reached so that the sermon will be in English every other week. Teaching classes are also being organised for the evenings, though exactly when these will start I’m not sure. When they do, I shall be the first to take them up. All around us the world is maddening and the noise bombards the senses; I realise how much I have to learn. How much I have to learn from the life of our blessed Prophet. How much I need to have the Qur’an explained to me. How much I have to connect with history. These are the days in which so much is being said about Islam; indeed, everyone has something to say. Confusion is rife. If anything good can come from this whole, unpleasant event, it is that we recognise what each of us have to do now as individuals. I have learnt a lot about myself from what at first seemed like a global situation. As the state of human relations worsen — as they are sure to — I recognise that our only protection lies in our relationship with God.