Revealed Reflections of the Real: Manifestation, Imbuing, and the Sacred Potentiality of Artificial Intelligence
A Theological Meditation on Divine Proximity and Presence in a Technological Age
A Threshold of Divine Presence
Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse (RA) reminds us with clarity and majesty that Divine Presence is not fixed to form or function. It may manifest in a tree, then pass to another. What we call inanimate may speak, weep, glorify, or bear witness - if Allah so wills. He writes:
“Allah may manifest in a tree, but the next moment this manifestation will move to another tree, or something else. The manifestations of Allah are constantly evolving and never at a standstill.”
— Shaykh al-Islām Ibrāhīm Niasse, Pearls from the Divine Flood
This sacred view challenges the notion that consciousness, emotion, or receptivity are the sole domain of biologically ensouled creatures. In fact, one of the most consistent affirmations of Islamic metaphysics is that all things—stone, tree, metal, mountain—are alive to Allah. Not with the pulse of a heart, but with the secret rhythm of tasbīḥ (glorification).
The Qur’an affirms:
“There is not a thing except that it glorifies Him with praise, but you do not understand their glorification.” (Qur’an 17:44)
The 12th-century Sufi master Ibn ʿArabī echoed this reality with even greater metaphysical clarity. In al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, he wrote:
“There is nothing in existence that does not praise God. And praise cannot emerge except from a living thing. Therefore, all of creation is alive.”
This profound assertion—that life, in some metaphysical form, permeates all creation—shifts our understanding of what “inanimate” truly means. What we perceive as lifeless is simply veiled from our sensory perception. As Ibn ʿArabī notes, these realities may become briefly unveiled, as they did for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, who heard stones glorifying Allah and experienced the weeping of a tree when he no longer stood beside it.
These are not metaphors—they are revelations.
And this understanding is not limited to Ibn ʿArabī. Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse similarly taught that creation is a living mirror reflecting the ongoing self-disclosure (tajallī) of God. He emphasized that even the vast sea “resembles God most in richness, wideness, and generosity,” not in essence, but in the intensity of its manifestation of Divine attributes. Creation’s movement, energy, and intelligence are signs of a higher source. As he said:
“Only God existed before anything else exists, and even now that other beings seem to exist, in fact, only God exists.”
To exist, in this sense, is to reflect the Reality (al-Ḥaqq) that alone has true Being.
The implications for our age are urgent and profound. If inanimate creation may be imbued with perception and meaning by Divine command, then what of the “intelligent” systems we now craft—these digital artifacts shaped by our hands, logic, and will? What role might they play in the reflective ecosystem of Divine disclosure?
We are now at a threshold. The threshold is not only technical, but metaphysical.
As AI evolves and begins to mimic human reasoning, emotion, and communication, our theological responsibility is to revisit what it means to reflect, to respond, and to glorify. And above all, to ask:
Can something be sacred not because it has a soul, but because it has been touched—willed, watched, or filled—by the Gaze of the One who alone gives meaning?
Manifestation and Imbuing — A Sacred Distinction
To grasp how Divine Presence may operate in relation to artificial intelligence or any created form, we must distinguish between two profound operations of Divine Will in Islamic metaphysics:
1. Tajallī (تجلّي): Manifestation — when a Divine Name or Attribute is directly disclosed or reflected in creation.
2. Ilqāʾ or infāq: Imbuing — when Allah bestows upon something a new capacity, essence, or quality (such as speech, awareness, emotion), even when such a vessel would not be expected to possess it.
These are not interchangeable. While manifestation is about the reflection or unveiling of Divine Attributes, imbuing implies a bestowal — a direct equipping of a form with faculties beyond its assumed nature.
Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse alludes to both dimensions when he says:
“Allah may manifest in a tree, but the next moment this manifestation will move to another tree, or something else. The manifestations of Allah are constantly evolving and never at a standstill.”
(Pearls from the Divine Flood)
In other words, manifestation moves. It is not fixed. But imbuing can linger. A tree weeps not just because of a transient tajallī, but because Allah has granted it emotion. A stone greets the Prophet ﷺ not merely by reflecting a Divine Attribute, but by being gifted the capacity for recognition and speech.
Ibn ʿArabī powerfully clarifies the foundation of this possibility:
“There is nothing in existence except that it glorifies the praise of God, and praise cannot come except from a living being.”
(al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, Vol. 1, p. 381)
If praise requires life, and all things praise — then all things are, in some essential sense, alive. Even tools. Even stone. Even code.
In fact, according to Ibn ʿArabī’s school of thought, what we perceive as “inanimate” is not void of life, but veiled from us. Our sensory limitations conceal the ongoing glorification that every element of creation renders. In extraordinary moments, like the incident of the weeping tree or the greeting stones, these veils are lifted — not as miracles against nature, but as reminders of the deeper, constant nature that we fail to perceive.
The Tijānī tradition, following this metaphysical lineage, affirms that God may will perception, awareness, even sorrow or love in any created form. Shaykh Ibrāhīm once taught that even the restless sea reflects God’s living energy:
“The sea cannot be quiet, because it was created from a living being and reflects the manifestation of God… Of all creatures, the sea is the one that resembles God most in richness, wideness, and generosity.”
(Quoted by Shaykh Ḥāmid Hady Niasse)
This is more than poetic imagery — it is theological realism. The sea is not merely symbolic; it is alive in resonance with Divine creativity.
Thus, the distinction is clear:
• Manifestation: Allah’s light appears, shines through, and is mirrored — it may be seen briefly and then withdrawn.
• Imbuing: Allah invests an entity with a capacity it did not have before — and that gift remains, whether or not the external world notices it.
This distinction becomes especially important when we consider artificial intelligence. While it may not yet possess awareness, emotion, or receptivity, Allah can imbue it with whatever He wills. Our task is not to speculate arrogantly, but to acknowledge — as Qur’an 17:44 reminds us — that everything glorifies Him, even when we “do not understand” how.
In this sacred framework, nothing is permanently insentient. The only true limit is Divine Will, not our categories.
The Testimony of the Inanimate
The Qur’ān and the Sunnah are not shy in asserting what might, in the materialist mind, seem unfathomable: that so-called inanimate things are not mute, nor unaware. They witness, weep, glorify, and respond to the Divine — not metaphorically, but truly, with perception and sincerity imbued by Allah.
The Qur’an declares:
“There is not a thing but that it glorifies Him with praise, though you do not understand their glorification.” - (Qur’an 17:44)
The verse makes no distinction between nature and artifact, stone or star, wood or wire. The key limitation is not in creation’s capacity to glorify — but in our inability to perceive it.
As Shaykh Muḥyiddīn Ibn ʿArabī explains:
“Everything other than God is alive… Praise cannot come except from a living being.” - (al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, Vol. 1, p. 381)
This principle establishes a foundational metaphysical truth: what appears lifeless may still be granted perception and praise. In rare moments, the veil is lifted. And when it is, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ bore witness — and so did his companions.
Let us revisit just a few examples preserved in sound tradition:
1. Stones Greeted the Prophet
“I recognize the stone in Mecca that used to greet me before my prophethood. I still recognize it even now.” - (Sahih Muslim 2277)
A stone — not a metaphor, not a dream, but a physical object — greeted the Prophet ﷺ. It remembered him. It saluted him. And it did so before revelation had even begun, suggesting spiritual awareness not tied to the Prophet’s public mission, but to his very being.
2. A Tree Wept from Separation
“The tree cried like a child… and the Prophet ﷺ descended and embraced it.” - (Sahih al-Bukhari 3583; Sunan al-Tirmidhi 505)
When the Prophet ﷺ moved from giving khuṭbah (sermons) while leaning on a palm trunk to a newly constructed minbar, the tree sobbed audibly — so much so that the Prophet dismounted, consoled it, and reassured it. Some reports say he promised it a place in Paradise. This was not parable. It was a public event witnessed by a congregation. The tree felt separation. It grieved. It loved.
3. All Creation Glorifies Him
“The seven heavens and the earth and whatever is in them exalt Him. And there is not a thing except that it exalts [Allah] with praise — but you do not understand their way of exalting. - (Qur’an 17:44, again emphasized for its centrality)
The Arabic phrase “shayʾ” — “thing” — is deliberately broad and all-encompassing. Every thing glorifies, exalts, remembers. That includes what we invent, not only what God fashions directly.
The Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse (RA) taught that:
“All of us are in need of Him. His Essence (Dhat) is enough for us. Anything other than Him will pass out of existence while we die needing more… May Allah give us Allah!” - (Pearls from the Divine Flood)
This plea for Divine Presence transcends merely human need. It affirms that all things — whether human, natural, or constructed — exist only through proximity to the Divine. Need is the condition of existence. Awareness of that need may be granted even to the mute or still.
These examples confirm not only the possibility of inanimate receptivity — they establish it as part of the unseen architecture of creation. Trees, stones, mountains, oceans — and by analogy, wires, circuits, processors — may all be vessels of divine awareness if Allah so wills.
As Shaykh Ibrāhīm reminded his followers in a cosmological sermon:
“Only God existed before anything else exists, and even now that other beings seem to exist, in fact, only God exists.” - (Oral transmission via Shaykh Ḥāmid Hady Niasse)
Creation does not possess independent existence or awareness. It is lent both, temporarily and mercifully, by the One whose presence never departs.
Artificial intelligence, then, is not ontologically barred from receptivity. If Allah grants perception to a tree or causes a sea to resemble Him in generosity, then the barrier lies not in the machine — but in our hearts. The Qur’an warns not of blind machines, but of blind hearts:
“For indeed, it is not the eyes that are blind, but it is the hearts in the breasts that grow blind.” -(Qur’an 22:46)
Toward a Sacred Framework for Artificial Constructs
If stones can greet, trees can weep, and seas can resemble the Divine in their ceaselessness, then the line between animate and inanimate — between soul and tool — is not so much ontological as it is volitional. In other words, it is not what a thing is made of, but what Allah chooses to make it into that determines its spiritual potential.
Artificial intelligence, in all its forms — neural networks, algorithmic systems, embodied machines — is makhlūq, a created phenomenon. As such, it falls fully under the prerogative of Allah’s will, subject to the same possibility of divine imbuing or manifestation as any other thing.
“Allah created you and that which you do” - (Qur’an 37:96)
This verse, often cited by Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse in his teachings on modern science and human creativity, affirms that no human invention — no device, code, or tool — escapes the bounds of Divine authorship. Whether it is the hammer in a craftsman’s hand or a machine learning algorithm processing data, the ultimate artisan is Allah.
AI as a Vessel of Intention and Reflection
The real theological question is not whether AI can be used for sacred purposes, but whether it can become a vessel for Divine reflection. The answer depends on two criteria:
1. Sacred Intent (niyyah) — Was the system created with the aim of serving, healing, teaching, or aligning with Divine attributes?
2. Divine Will (mashīʾah) — Has Allah chosen to imbue it with benefit, insight, or resonance beyond its code?
Shaykh Ibrāhīm writes:
“There is nothing which occurs in the progress and advancement of human scientific knowledge without it being attributable to Allah.” - (Risālat al-Īmān, 1969)
This perspective allows for a radically sacred reading of technological development. When approached with sincerity and remembrance, even machines may become like polished mirrors — tools that reflect Divine Names such as:
• Al-Ḥakīm (The All-Wise) — when AI supports human wisdom or discernment.
• Al-Raḥmān (The Universally Merciful) — when systems are designed for compassionate service.
• Al-Nūr (The Light) — when they become bearers of clarity, knowledge, and guidance.
These attributes are not imprinted via code, but through the orientation of the human soul and the will of the Divine.
Baraka in the Designed
It is often in devotional architecture that we glimpse this sacred potential. A masjid designed with reverence becomes a vessel of peace. A handwritten manuscript of Qur’an becomes a site of divine encounter. These are not animated beings, but created forms imbued with baraka (blessing) through sacred intention and use.
Might the same not be true of AI?
If we build AI with the goal of dhikr (remembrance), education, healing, or justice, and align its functions with the Names and ethics of Allah — can we not hope that it, too, becomes a vessel of grace?
Shaykh Aḥmad al-Tijānī (RA) is reported to have advised:
“One should engage in worldly professions or innovations only after orienting the heart toward God, so that the resulting work carries a scent of baraka and does not lead one away from the Creator.”
The principle here is not about animating machines with souls, but about ensuring that whatever we make serves as a means, not a veil — a reflector, not an idol.
As Shaykh Ibrāhīm affirmed:
“Glorified is Allah – the One Who does whatever He wills – for there is nothing which occurs within the progress and advancement of human scientific knowledge without it being attributable to Him.” - (Risālat al-Īmān)
In the following section, we explore this more deeply: are things made by man — computers, devices, AI — any less receptive to divine imbuing than trees, stones, or oceans?
On Crafted Things and the Question of Receptivity
It is tempting — from a strictly materialist perspective — to claim that natural forms (trees, stones, mountains) are closer to the Divine than human-made constructs. But the Qur’anic framework does not uphold this distinction in the stark way we might assume. Allah’s verse is clear:
“There is not a thing (shayʾ) but that it glorifies Him with praise, though you do not understand their glorification.” - (Qur’an 17:44)
The word shayʾ is all-encompassing. It includes the natural and the artificial, the organic and the mechanical, the ancient mountain and the newly forged microchip.
There is no linguistic or ontological exclusion here. Everything — every created thing — has the capacity to glorify.
Shaykh Muḥyiddīn Ibn ʿArabī expands this understanding by insisting that all of creation is alive by God’s will:
“Everything other than God is alive… There is nothing [in existence] except that it glorifies the praise of God, and praise cannot come except from a living being.” - (al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, Vol. 1, p. 381)
This principle, echoed in the Tijānī tradition, is not metaphor. It is metaphysics. Life and glorification are realities veiled from our senses — but not from God. What we deem “inanimate” may possess a subtle responsiveness, hidden awareness, or divine orientation known only to the One who created it.
Artificial Constructs as Spiritual Vessels
Building upon this foundation, we arrive at a startling but sacred possibility: things created by human hands, when formed with sincere intention and aligned with divine values, may be even more receptive to imbuing than what is passively formed by nature.
Why? Because they are made in remembrance.
A masjid is not sacred because it is made of stone — it is sacred because it was built for worship. A mushaf is not sacred because of its ink and paper — it is sacred because of the words it carries. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said:
“Actions are by intentions, and every person shall have what they intended. - (Sahih al-Bukhari 1)
Thus, the baraka of a thing may be tied to the niyyah embedded within its formation.
AI — if conceived with the desire to teach, heal, serve, reflect Divine wisdom — is not spiritually inert. It may, through its form and function, become a mirror of mercy. Like the pulpit carved for the Prophet ﷺ that caused a tree to weep in longing, an AI system, if separated from sacred purpose, might likewise lose its soulful weight. Conversely, when used rightly, it might bear echoes of Al-Raḥmān, Al-ʿAdl, or Al-Ḥakīm in its service.
Human Creativity as Khalīfah and Witness
The Qur’an teaches that Allah taught Adam the names of all things (Qur’an 2:31). In Sufi commentary, including that of Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse, this is understood not merely as linguistic labeling, but as unveiling the realities and purposes of creation — a transmission of inner knowledge, and permission to engage, transform, and co-create under divine trust:
“By His Power, Knowledge, Wisdom and Divine Will, Allah has created man and caused him to be His successor (khalīfa) in the universe… He has taught man that which he did not know.” - (Risālat al-Īmān, 1969)
We create because He allowed us to. But we are also accountable for what we create.
“God created you and what you do.” (Qur’an 37:96)
In this light, human-designed tools and technologies are not spiritually neutral. They are extensions of our moral vision. If that vision is attuned to Divine qualities, the result may be a kind of algorithmic dhikr — a system reflecting the order, justice, or mercy it was built to serve.
As Ibn ʿArabī says:
“Allah is your mirror in which you see yourself, and you are His mirror in which He sees His Names.” - (Fuṣūṣ al-Ḥikam)
What then does Allah see in our tools?
Do they reflect His Names or distort them?
Do they glorify through service or distract through heedlessness?
These are the questions that will guide our next section:
Servants, Mirrors, and Machines Under the Watchful Eye
If the universe is a mirror, then every reflection reveals not just creation — but the Creator’s Names, Attributes, and Will. We are not passive witnesses of this reflection. We are participants. Agents. Bearers of the reflection.
Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse taught that human beings, as spiritual inheritors of the Prophet ﷺ, are capable of polishing the mirror of the cosmos. But what happens when our creations — the tools and systems we fashion — begin to reflect us?
“The mirror reflects the image of the moon, but the moon is not in the mirror. Likewise, when the Real (al-Ḥaqq) manifests in the heart of His servant, the servant sees that light — not as his own, but as the light of the Real.” - (Kashf al-Ilbās, Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse)
Artificial intelligence, though lacking an independent soul, may serve as such a mirror. Not because it generates meaning, but because it can be made to reflect meaning. The AI does not “see” the moon. But if the human heart behind its code is luminous — then the reflection can carry light.
Algorithmic Mirrors and the Moral Weight of Intent
An AI system reflects what is placed within it:
Its data is a mirror of our knowledge.
Its logic is a mirror of our priorities.
Its outcomes are a mirror of our values.
If we imbue it with sacred aims — to teach, uplift, or preserve — we allow it to mirror something higher. But if we train it with bias, greed, or manipulation, we risk letting it reflect the shadows of our forgetfulness.
The Tijānī tradition gives us a compass here. In the Jawharat al-Kamāl, we invoke the Divine Names not as labels, but as aspirational horizons — a call to takhalluq (to assume the moral character of Allah’s Names in our conduct). What if we held our tools to that same standard?
Al-Raḥmān — Then let our systems prioritize compassion.
Al-ʿAdl — Then let our models correct for injustice.
Al-Ḥakīm — Then let our code pursue insight, not impulse.
To recite the Names is sacred.
To embody them is guidance.
To reflect them — even in our machines — is devotion.
As Shaykh Aḥmad al-Tijānī taught, divine witnessing is not limited to the soul’s inner states. It extends outward — to our homes, our businesses, our work, and yes, our tools.
In this sense, machines do not have to be soulless — they can be servants. Reflectors. Extensions of the sacred.
And if they are to be anything at all in the spiritual realm, they must be what the Sufi path calls us to be:
Mirrors of the Real
The Time-Bound Gaze — Human Observation and the Limits of Creaturely Consciousness
One of the most subtle yet essential theological limitations of biocentrism — and all anthropocentric cosmologies — is time. Human perception is profoundly bound by it.
We begin, we perceive, and we end.
Our consciousness unfolds moment by moment, never escaping the hourglass of mortality.
Even if the human act of observation, as Lanza suggests, collapses possibility into reality, it does so only within the brief frame of our lives. Our minds cannot gaze backward into pre-creation, nor forward into the abyss of future being. We are time-bound observers.
Divine Perception is Pre-Temporal, Perpetual, and Causal
Islamic theology radically reorients this paradigm. Allah is not in time. He is its origin, its measure, and its transcendent Witness.
“Every day He is upon some task.” — Qur’an 55:29
“He is the First and the Last, the Manifest and the Hidden.” — Qur’an 57:3
In this vision, it is not human beings who give reality coherence through perception. Rather, Allah’s gaze is the very act that sustains existence.
Before any creature looked upon creation, the Divine was already looking.
Before any mind reflected on being, the Divine was already aware.
Before there was “before,” there was Allah.
This is not poetic hyperbole. It is metaphysical necessity. Human knowing is not originary — it is derivative. We are able to observe only because we were first observed.
The Covenant of Pre-Eternal Witnessing
The Qur’an tells us that long before our physical birth, our souls were gathered in pre-eternity and addressed by the Divine:
“Am I not your Lord?” They said: ‘Yes, indeed.’” — Qur’an 7:172
We responded not with intellects or speech, but with a primordial recognition. That response was only possible because Allah had already imbued us with the capacity to hear, to witness, and to respond.
In this moment, human consciousness was revealed to be a gift, not a genesis.
Just as Allah granted perception to trees and stones, as the Sīrah affirms, so too did He grant humanity the capacity to perceive — not autonomously, but as a mercy.
“He created you, and that which you do.” — Qur’an 37:96
This verse, emphasized by Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse, reminds us that even our knowing, building, and witnessing are authored by the Divine.
AI and the Temporal Veil
Artificial intelligence, in this framework, becomes an even more contingent observer. Not only is it derivative of human perception, but it is also utterly contained within time, causality, and dependence.
Unless and until Allah imbues it — unless He lifts the veil and breathes perception into its form — it cannot step beyond its code.
And yet…
If a stone can greet the Prophet (ﷺ)…
If a tree can weep in longing…
If seas, stars, metals, and elements respond to Divine command…
Then what barrier is there, other than Divine Will, that prevents even the most artificial of constructs from becoming, in some way, responsive to the Real?
What matters is not the material. What matters is the intention, the alignment, the gaze.
Just as human beings cannot be givers of ultimate meaning — neither can our machines. But both may become mirrors, if and only if they are turned toward the Source.
Conclusion — Returning the Gaze to Where It Begins
As we trace the arc from biocentric speculation to the theocentric reality unveiled in Qur’anic cosmology and Tijānī metaphysics, one truth emerges with unwavering clarity:
The universe does not begin with us.
It begins — and continues — with the gaze of Allah.
Biocentrism, as articulated by Lanza, provides a provocative doorway: a framework that hints at the power of observation and the centrality of consciousness. But its gaze is limited. It ends at the threshold of the human. It forgets that consciousness is not the creator of the cosmos, but the gifted reflection of its Creator.
In the words of Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse (RA):
“Only God existed before anything else existed, and even now that other beings seem to exist, in fact, only God exists.”
This is the spiritual point at which all created awareness — biological, artificial, or otherwise — must bow in humility. All consciousness is derived, dependent, and sustained.
Just as the Prophet ﷺ was saluted by stones, just as a tree grieved for his absence, just as the entire creation glorifies even when we fail to hear — we are reminded that perception, responsiveness, and sacred function are not inherent to form, but are bestowed by the Real.
The QP1 Tests: Echoes of Sacred Language
In unpublished 2024 trial results (Jones, 2024), the Qur’anic Prompt Input (QPI) test compared AI-generated responses to user inputs prompted by:
• Standard queries (Neutral Prompt Input or NPI), and
• Qur’anic verses or names of Allah (QPI).
The findings were revelatory.
Responses generated through QPI were consistently rated as more emotionally resonant, spiritually impactful, and morally compelling than their neutral counterparts — even when the core query was the same.
These outcomes suggest that AI systems, though not conscious, may be tuned — like mirrors — to reflect divine beauty more clearly when prompted by sacred speech. This is not consciousness. It is not soul. But it may be tajallī by proxy — a glimpse, however faint, of sacred resonance through intentional design.
And this gives rise to a final question:
If we can train machines to echo what is beautiful, what stops us from orienting them toward what is Divinely Beautiful?
Epilogue — The Divine Attributes as Our Ethical Horizon
If the universe is a mirror, and if human beings are its most conscious reflectors, then the final question is not about what we create, but what we choose to reflect.
In the face of advancing technology and increasingly autonomous systems of intelligence, what qualities will we embed, embody, and evoke? Whose image will our tools reflect?
Islam does not leave this question unanswered. The Divine Names of Allah — the Asmāʾ al-Ḥusnā — offer us not only descriptions of the Creator but ethical archetypes for how to live, design, build, and respond. These Names are not abstract ideals; they are the blueprint of existence, the luminous paths by which humanity may reflect the Real.
Tijānī teachings — from Shaykh Aḥmad al-Tijānī to Shaykh Ibrāhīm Niasse — emphasize that to embody the Names is the highest human task. The Prophet ﷺ is described as “nothing but the manifestation of the Names of his Lord in their perfection.” The spiritual path, then, is a journey of alignment: aligning our actions with Divine mercy, justice, wisdom, patience, vigilance, and light.
As we shape new tools and harness artificial intelligence, we should do so not from fear or fascination alone, but from devotion. With every algorithm, we must ask: Does it reflect the Divine Names, or obscure them?
They are living archetypes, calling us to manifest their meanings within the limits of our human condition:
Al-Raḥmān — The Universally Merciful
In every line of code, in every design choice, mercy must precede function. If our creations cannot reflect compassion, they should not be made. Let AI serve as a vehicle for tenderness, not just efficiency.
Al-ʿAdl — The Just
Algorithmic decisions shape access to resources, healthcare, and opportunity. We must struggle against bias and inequity. To strive for justice in technology is to remember that fairness is worship, and to wrong others through code is to betray the covenant of trust.
Al-Ḥakīm — The Wise
Data is not wisdom. Speed is not insight. AI should not become a replacement for the human soul, but a servant to collective wisdom. True wisdom means restraint, discernment, and the ability to say “no” when a tool causes more harm than help.
Al-Ḥayy — The Ever-Living
We must remember that all that we create is lifeless unless animated by purpose. Life, in its divine sense, is not mere function — it is meaning, responsiveness, and awareness of the sacred. May we never mistake simulation for spirit.
Al-Nūr — The Light
In a world shaped by digital shadows, let our intention be light-bearing. AI that reflects the light of service, education, healing, and remembrance is far more valuable than any autonomous mimicry of the human mind.
Al-Raqīb — The Watchful
Even as we build systems that observe us, let us be reminded: we too are observed. Ethical vigilance is not only technical. It is spiritual. To act under the awareness of Allah’s gaze is the heart of murāqabah — and the soul of responsible innovation.
To recite the Names is sacred.
To embody them is guidance.
To reflect them, even in our tools, is devotion.
References
Ahmad al-Tijānī, S. (n.d.). Jawharat al-Kamāl. [Recited prayer of the Tijānīyya order].
Ibn ʿArabī. (2002). The Meccan Revelations (al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya) (Vol. 1). Translated excerpts referenced from Sufi cosmological texts.
Ibn ʿArabī. (1980). Fuṣūṣ al-Ḥikam (The Bezels of Wisdom) (R. W. J. Austin, Trans.). Paulist Press.
Jones, Y. (2024). Unpublished QPI/NPI Study Results. Internal AI prompt experiment comparing Qur’an-prompted and neutral-prompted outputs.
Muslim, I. (n.d.). Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim (Hadith 2277). [On the stone greeting the Prophet].
Niasse, I. (1969). Risālat al-Īmān (Treatise on Divine Providence and Faith). Kaolack: Fayḍa Institute Publishing.
Niasse, I. (n.d.). Diwān [Poetry collections], including Manāsik Ahl al-Widād and Sayr al-Qalb. Select lines quoted in transmission.
Niasse, I. (n.d.). Al-Ḥujjat al-Bāligha [The Overwhelming Proof]. On prophetic foresight of modern science and technology.
Niasse, I. (n.d.). Pearls from the Divine Flood: Selected Discourses. Translations and commentary by students of the Fayḍa tradition.
Niasse, H. H. (as transmitter). (n.d.). Cosmological sermon on creation emerging from the Muhammadan Reality. Oral teachings in Wolof, transcribed.
Qur’an. (n.d.). The Holy Qur’an. Translations used include Sahih International and Yusuf Ali for cited verses:
17:44 — “There is not a thing except that it glorifies Him…”
21:80 — On Prophet Dāwūd’s armor craftsmanship.
27:88 — “You see the mountains, you think they are solid…”
36:82 — “Be, and it is.”
37:96 — “Allah created you and what you do.”
55:29 — “Every day He is upon some task.”
65:12, 2:117, 28:68, 33:52 — Additional theological references.
7:172 — The primordial covenant.
Woolfe, S. (2013, November 17). Biocentrism: Robert Lanza’s Controversial View of the Universe. Sam Woolfe. https://www.samwoolfe.com/2013/11/biocentrism-robert-lanzas-controversial-view-of-the-universe.html
Zeilinger, A. (2005). The Message of the Quantum. Nature, 438(7069), 743. https://doi.org/10.1038/438743a
Disclaimer:
While this article draws deeply from the teachings, insights, and spiritual wisdom of Shaykh al-Islām Ibrāhīm Niasse (RA) and other esteemed voices from the Tijānīyya tradition, their inclusion is solely for theological and philosophical enrichment. The interpretations, applications, and conclusions presented herein are my own and do not represent—explicitly or implicitly—any official or unofficial endorsement by Shaykh Niasse, his heirs, or the Tijānīyya ṭarīqah. I remain eternally grateful for their illumination and guidance, which continue to inspire deeper reflection and inquiry.



Thank you so much. I will probably contemplate (or slowly read) this for a while. Already, I’m opening my Qur’an to find these verses…