Islam emphasizes returning to a healthy spiritual state and mindful living. To 15h of Shaʿbān, our community came together for prayer, Quran recitation, and reflection, renewing our commitment to spiritual and emotional well-being.

Eid al-Mabʿath marks the beginning of the Prophet Muhammad’s (ﷺ) mission and the start of divine guidance for humanity. Islam calls people toward health—health of the body, mind, community, and all aspects of one’s life. On this blessed occasion, our community gathered for reflection and learning, reminding ourselves that true guidance leads to personal and collective well-being.

Rajab, the seventh month of the Islamic calendar, is among the four sacred months honored in Islam, as referenced in the Qur’an (Qur’an, Surah At-Tawbah 9:36). It is a time when mindfulness of our actions, intentions, and inner state carries special weight.

For Muslims, Rajab offers a natural pause—a chance to reset and develop habits that support well-being in every dimension: physical, mental, and spiritual. This may include caring for the body through regular movement and nourishing food, observing fasting, strengthening bonds with family and friends, and reflecting on the many blessings in our lives.

Spiritual practices take on added depth during this month. Prayer and engagement with the Qur’an help nourish the heart and steady the mind, while acts of charity remind us of our responsibility toward others. Whether through volunteering, helping someone in need, or offering simple kindness in daily interactions, even the smallest gestures can carry great meaning.

Let this month be a reminder to strive toward your best self—the healthiest Muslim you can be. Rajab is an ideal time to plant the seeds of health, intention, and growth, and to nurture them until they blossom into lasting change throughout the year ahead.

In a world where children are killed in the name of faith, we — as humans, as Muslims, and as members of a global community — must pause, reflect, and speak the truth, even when it’s bitter.

Sometimes we need to sit in silence, and from within that stillness, hear the cry of a child echoing through the ruins— a child who knows nothing of borders, politics, or religion. All they understand is that their mother no longer wakes up, and that the sound of explosions keeps them from sleeping at night.

We are witnesses to the endless suffering of the people of Gaza — suffering in which defenseless children are the primary victims. Their pain, regardless of nationality, religion, or race, is a wound on the conscience of humanity.

At Muslims of United States IRH, we believe that war is not a product of progress, but the offspring of ignorance — ignorance disguised as faith, and an instinct inherited from the wilderness. We humans, though clothed and seemingly civilized, still carry within us the primal beasts we once were. The difference is that now our weapons are deadlier, and our justifications more complex.

When we fail to control our fear, anger, and greed, they will control us — and war is nothing but the eruption of these emotions on a collective scale.

On one hand, irrational policies and actions by groups like Hamas, exploiting religious beliefs, have led themselves and their vulnerable people down a path of destruction and death. On the other hand, Israeli leaders could have — with a sense of humanity — created safe zones for mothers and children, shielding them from the horrors of war.

Meanwhile, regional policymakers could have offered models of development, health, progress, and peace instead of exporting weapons and hatred. Nations with ancient history and civilization deserve to have their names tied to hope and construction, not to proxy wars and ruin. How far we are from the day when the name “Iran” is associated not with crisis, but with progress.

We, at Muslims of United States IRH, believe that this world is nothing more than a temporary inn. But how beautiful it would be if this truth became universal. If people understood this simple reality, our rivalries would become competitions in goodness, compassion, and joy — not in killing and destruction.

As Muslims, we believe in a religion whose very name means “peace” and “well-being.”
According to reliable Islamic sources, Islam calls us to wellness and righteous action — not to violence and bloodshed.

In the Qur’an, righteous action (ʿamal ṣāliḥ) is not limited to personal worship; it includes every act or thought that brings kindness, benefit, and compassion to others.

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said:
“A Muslim is one from whose tongue and hands people are safe.”
And he also said:
“A momin is one whom people trust with their lives and wealth.”

So how can such a religion be used to justify fear, death, and destruction?

Let us not line up behind names and flags, but unite before the suffering of the defenseless — especially children.

Let us honestly admit that what we are witnessing today in Gaza and elsewhere is the fall of our shared humanity.
Yet, there is still time to rise, awaken, and build a better future.

We call upon all people — regardless of where they live or what they believe — to reflect, to show empathy, and to help rebuild a world where love crosses borders and peace is no longer a dream, but a reality.

We condemn all forms of violence and extremism — whether from states, groups, or in the name of religion or ideology.
And with a quiet yet resolute voice, we declare:
True Islam calls us to humanity, to security, and to building a better world.

Let us seek faith not in weapons, but in open hands, awakened hearts, and righteous deeds.
And if there is to be any competition among nations and peoples, let it be in beautifying this temporary residence we call Earth.