How far could a person go until they are too far from repentance? Which sin makes a person so corrupt that we can lose our hope for their salvation? Apparently, there is none in Sufism. As long as a person lives, there is hope.

Sometimes picking up a piece of paper that has the name of Allah on it out of respect can be a means of gaining forgiveness or hearing a verse that touches the heart directly can lead to an epiphany. That is what happened to Al-Fudayl ibn 'Iyad, also known as Abu Ali and as al-Talaqani, who had been the leader of a bunch of highwaymen cutting the ways of caravans and stealing their goods. He had a fearsome reputation even though he was already a practicing Muslim. Sufism has a high understanding of humankind: No one is too bad to be saved, and no one is too good to be spared from wrong.

It is narrated that a merchant trying to save the gold of his caravan from the bandits trusted a man wearing a sackcloth, with a woolen hat on his head and prayer beads around his neck. Al-Fudayl looked poor, humble and pious sitting in his tent while his friends were robbing that caravan. When the caravan was plundered, the merchant came back to retrieve his gold only to witness that the man he entrusted his gold to was the leader of that gang. Al-Fudayl, seeing he had turned back, called him over and told him that his belongings were just where he put them. A trustworthy bandit he was.

The course of his life changed when he heard Surah Al-Hadid: "Has the time not yet come for believers’ hearts to be humbled at the remembrance of Allah?" (57:16) He may have heard or read it before but at that moment, he fully conceived its meaning as if it was being revealed only to him there on that night. He replied: "The time has come! The time has come!"

This was the cornerstone, and he was ready to fully commit himself to the devotion of Allah. He and his wife traveled to Mecca afterward where he took lessons from Abu Hanifa, one of the greatest theologians of all times. After that, he became prominent with his piety, meticulousness in religious duty and spiritual states. However, one thing stays the same: his chivalry.

There is a Sufi term "futuwwa," which literally means "youth" but in Sufism, it takes on a new meaning: spiritual chivalry. Sufis attributed noble character traits to it such as chivalry, courage, generosity, honor, etc. The stem of the word, "feta" (young), carries these heroic ideals. Looking at an incident between Al-Fudayl and Harun al-Rashid, a legendary Abbasid caliphate, we can see why he was worthy of being called a "feta." Farid-ud Din Attar, or Attar of Nishapur, narrates the story:

It is narrated that Harun al-Rashid, sick of the pomp and circumstance in which he lived, was in search of a wise man from whom he could get guidance. The first man whom the vizier led Harun to was so honored to be visited by the "The Commander of the Faithful." He told him that if he had known, he would have gone to his service. Harun understood that this wasn’t the man he was looking for. Then he was led to Al-Fudayl, but he refused to see him. Without his permission, Harun and his vizier entered his house; however, this time Al-Fudayl blew out the candle so that he wouldn’t see his face. Al-Fudayl was so indifferent to the caliphate that he had to implore to get a word from him.

Al-Fudayl started giving advice, like a fountain flowing with wisdom quenching the thirst of the caliphate, and Harun would ask for more and more until he fainted from weeping. The vizier told him to stop, but Al-Fudayl silenced him and said: "Haman, you and you people have killed him, not me." Harun wept harder. He turned to his vizier and said: "He called you Haman because he considers me Pharoah."

Fearing no one but Allah, being content with nothing but Allah and spending time with no one but Allah, Al-Fudayl was the shining example of futuwwa. Be it "The Commander of the Faithful" or the beggar walking down the street, he would give the same advice. It takes a great deal of courage to speak from the heart to anyone let alone to a majestic leader. Who cares about a mortal authority in this world when one bows in front of the Real whose authority transcends this world? He was brave enough not to mince words. This noble attitude was recognized by Harun as well, and he offered him a very precious ring. It is not hard to imagine what Al-Fudayl must have felt after all the invaluable advice, he was offered a worthless gift. He said to Harun: "You have begun your tyranny again. I have called you to salvation while you are calling me to take on a heavy burden. My words are useless." Al-Fudayl stood up and slammed the door in the face of "The Commander of the Faithful." A courageous ascetic he was.

Once a bandit that attacked caravans and stole from merchants, Al-Fudayl led a life of piety for the rest of his life. His was a great example of the transformation Sufism has been promising for centuries. Everyone is potentially a friend of Allah until they actually are. No one is too deep in trouble to be rescued and no one is too safe from falling in the pit. What is incumbent on us is to take a leap of faith with goodwill toward the mercy and forgiveness of Allah.