Bismillāh
أَمَّنْ هُوَ قَانِتٌ آنَاءَ اللَّيْلِ سَاجِدًا وَقَائِمًا يَحْذَرُ الْآخِرَةَ وَيَرْجُو رَحْمَةَ رَبِّهِ
Is one who is devoutly obedient during the hours of the night, prostrating and standing, fearing the Hereafter and hoping in the mercy of his Lord — [equal to one who does not]?
Sūrat Az-Zumar, No.39, Āyat 9
The above verse of Sūrat Az-Zumar comes after a verse in which Allah said, “no bearer of burdens will bear the burden of another”. The verses are connected, they are comparing the disbeliever to the thankful believer and making the point that they are not equal, they do not mix. In this verse Allah is saying that the devoutly obedient believer, who fears punishment and hopes for Allah’s mercy, is not the same as others.
The Arabic word qānit means one persistent in obedience and also indicates a senes of humility. Ānā’ is the plural of inā meaning a period of time. “Fearing the Hereafter” refers to how the believer fears Allah’s punishment in the Hereafter, while the words “hoping for the mercy of his Lord”——combine fear of punishment and hope for mercy. The mercy is not restricted to the Hereafter, for the mercy of the Hereafter may also encompass the world.
The meaning is: Is this disbeliever, who is among the inhabitants of the Fire, better, or one who is devoted to obedience and humility before his Lord during the hours of the night, when darkness envelops him—prostrating in his prayer at times, and standing at others—fearing the punishment of the Hereafter and hoping for the mercy of his Lord? That is, the two are not equal.
The verse is built as a comparison: just before it, the heedless one is told to “enjoy” his brief share of this world, careless of what comes after. Against that figure the Qur’an sets the qanit — one who is constant, not intermittent, in devotion. The commentary tradition, which al-Mizan follows closely here, draws out two things in this description that matter for a reflection on du’a and weeping. First, sajidan wa qa’iman — prostrating and standing — names the two poles of the night-prayer’s physical posture, but together they signify totality: this is a person whose worship is not a single gesture but a full engagement of the body across the whole night, holding nothing back. Second, and more importantly, the qanit is described as holding khawf (fear of the Hereafter) and raja’ (hope in God’s mercy) together, at once. This is the balanced heart the Qur’an is pointing to — not paralyzed by fear into despair, not so confident in hope that it grows careless. It is precisely this tension, sustained through the night, that produces real weeping: tears are not sentiment here, but the visible overflow of a soul stretched between dread and hope.
Tawus al-Yamani gives us a living portrait of exactly this qanit. He relates that he saw a man circling in worship from the night prayer until dawn — standing, prostrating, never resting — until, believing himself unseen, he lifted his face and cried out: “My God, the stars of Your heavens have set, the eyes of Your creation sleep, and Your gates remain open to those who ask. I have come to You that You forgive me, have mercy on me, and show me the face of my grandfather Muhammad on the plains of Resurrection.” He then wept and prayed until he collapsed. Tawus, lifting the man’s head onto his lap and weeping himself, discovered that this was Imam ‘Ali ibn al-Husayn — Imam al-Sajjad (a). When Tawus tried to reassure him — “why this fear, when your father is al-Husayn, your mother Fatimah, your grandfather the Messenger of God?” — the Imam answered: “Enough, Tawus. Leave aside talk of my father, my mother, my grandfather. God made Paradise for whoever obeys Him, even an Abyssinian slave, and the Fire for whoever disobeys Him, even a noble of Quraysh. Have you not heard His words: ‘On that day there will be no lineage between them, nor will they ask after one another’? By God, nothing will benefit you tomorrow except what you send ahead of righteous deeds.”
That is the qanit of Surah az-Zumar made visible: a man who, despite his unmatched lineage, refused to let anything but his own deeds stand between himself and fear of the Hereafter — and refused to let that fear crowd out hope in mercy. And this was not confined to the night. The same disposition carried him, years later, to accept poison at the order of a tyrant without complaint, without invoking rank, without resistance — exactly as he had told Tawus he would meet his Lord. The vigil of the night and the silence of martyrdom are the same qunut, worn in two different hours of a single life stretched, always, between fear and hope.
Prayer:
O God, make us among those who stand through the night in remembrance of You, whose hearts hold fear of what lies ahead and hope in Your mercy in equal measure. Grant us tears that soften rather than despair, and let us walk the path of steadfastness that our master Zayn al-‘Abidin (a) walked — in worship, and in the surrender of everything but our deeds. Amin, Lord of all the worlds..
Sources: ‘Allāmah Muhammad Husayn Tabātabā’ī, Tafsīr al-Mīzān.