Welcome back to Road to Hajj—a short, practical overview of the Hajj journey. This series isn’t about deep fiqh or academic detail. It’s about following the footsteps of the Hujjaj and reflecting on the wisdom behind each ritual.
Today is the 12th of Dhul Hijjah, and we’re continuing our reflections on the Jamarāt—the symbolic stoning of Shayṭān.
Picking the Pebbles
Let’s start with a practical question: Where do you get the pebbles?
They can come from anywhere. Many Hujjaj pick them from Muzdalifah simply because it’s convenient—there are plenty of pebbles there. Today, many Hajj packages even provide pre-packed bags of stones.
But what size should the pebbles be?
Should they be large enough to ‘hit Shayṭān hard’? No.
The Prophet ﷺ taught us to choose pebbles the size of a chickpea—not too big, not too small. He warned against ghuluw, extremism in religion.
“Nations before you were destroyed because of extremism.”
(Sunan an-Nasā’ī)
This small choice—of picking a modest-sized pebble—teaches us something profound:
Islam is the middle path.
Avoiding Extremes
We don’t go to extremes in rituals, nor do we abandon them completely.
There are traditions that are hyper-ritualistic—rules upon rules on how to wash, eat, pray. And there are others that are hyper-spiritual—saying rituals don’t matter, only love does.
But Islam?
Islam values both.
We pray—but not in a way that hardens the heart.
We fast—but it’s meant to soften us, make us more generous.
We do rituals—but they should lead to character.
This balance is seen in the Prophet’s ﷺ response during Hajj.
When companions told him they had done certain rites out of order, he said:
“No harm. Just complete what’s left.”
No stress. No harshness. Just sincerity.
The Pebble as a Mirror
The pebble isn’t just a stone—it’s a mirror.
What kind of Muslim are you becoming through these rituals?
Do your prayers make you more patient?
Does fasting make you more empathetic?
Does Qur’an soften your heart or just sharpen your tongue?
The Prophet ﷺ once said:
“A Muslim sleeps with a full stomach while his neighbour goes hungry? He is not truly a believer.”
That’s the balance we need—rituals with meaning, not just mechanical motions.
Unfortunately, today we often see the opposite.
People who pray, fast, and go to ‘Umrah regularly—but have no hesitation to slander, to accuse, or to divide the community over minor ritual details.
Even during Ramadan and Eid, we argue about moonsighting, declaring others deviant.
We forget: The hands in prayer matter less than the state of the heart.
The Prophet’s Example
When companions went to Sayyidah ‘Ā’ishah (رضي الله عنها) asking about the Prophet’s worship, they were amazed. Some said, “We must go even further.” One said, “I’ll pray all night.” Another said, “I’ll fast every day.” Another said, “I’ll never marry.”
When the Prophet ﷺ heard this, he was displeased. He said:
“I am the most God-conscious of you. Yet I pray, and I sleep. I fast, and I break my fast. I marry. Whoever turns away from my Sunnah is not of me.”
The lesson?
Balance.
Closing Reflections
Even our scholars during the Ottoman era noted:
The early generations weren’t obsessed with ritual details like the exact level of water for wudu’. They were more concerned about purifying the heart—removing envy, arrogance, love of the world.
So what does the chickpea-sized pebble teach us?
Don’t go to extremes.
Don’t neglect the heart.
Let the ritual transform you.
May Allah guide us to the middle path.
May He purify our hearts as we perform these beautiful rituals.
And may this Hajj make us better people—not just better worshippers.
Share this post