A Story from a Ramadan Evening and a Lesson That Never Fades

It was a serene evening in the blessed month of Ramadan, those quiet moments when the sun slowly sets and hearts prepare to enter the sacred atmosphere of iftar. During one of my preaching journeys, I was in a Muslim country where the spirit of Ramadan filled the streets and mosques, and religious gatherings brought a special vibrancy to the nights.

During those days, I was invited to present a paper at a scholarly seminar on Qur’anic studies. The event was being held in another city, so we set off in the afternoon to ensure we could both arrive on time and keep our fast. Just as the sun was nearing the horizon, we reached our destination. We performed our prayers and broke our fast with a simple meal. There was little time to pause, word came that the seminar had already begun, and we were expected at the hall immediately.

As I entered, an impressive scene unfolded before me. In the front row sat around fifteen distinguished scholars from that country, both Shi‘a and Sunni each with years of recognized scholarship. Behind them, an audience of more than a thousand people sat in respectful silence. Among them, we, just a few seminary students from Qom, were the youngest present.

I had barely settled into the atmosphere when it was suddenly announced: “You will be the first speaker. You have fifteen minutes.” My heart began to race. I stepped up to the podium with a trace of anxiety. I began with Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim, praising God. As I reached into my pocket to take out the carefully prepared paper I had written… it wasn’t there.

In that instant, everything seemed to shift.

I had left it in the car. A strange weight fell upon me. For a brief moment, I hesitated, caught between silence and speech. But there was no time to withdraw. The audience was waiting. I told myself: Say what you can. If it falls short, you can always apologize.

I began… but at first, my words lacked structure. My thoughts felt scattered, and anxiety clouded my focus. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind: Why not speak about something I truly understand? At that moment, I decided to speak on “the place of Qur’anic sciences within the broader framework of Qur’anic knowledge”, a topic I was deeply familiar with and did not need notes for.

I continued, with trust in God.

Within moments, I felt a shift. It was as if a door had opened in my mind. My thoughts began to align, sentences flowed more naturally, and even the content of the paper I had left behind seemed to unfold within me, like pages turning in a gentle breeze.

Gradually, anxiety gave way to calm. When I finally paused, I realized that not fifteen, but twenty-five minutes had passed, and everything that needed to be said had been expressed clearly and coherently.

That Ramadan evening was not just a lecture for me… It was a lasting lesson. A lesson that has stayed with me ever since: What you truly understand is never lost;  But what exists only on paper can be left behind.

Three Lessons from This Preaching Experience

1. Deep understanding is the true substitute for notes

What is genuinely understood will find its way from the heart to the tongue—even without written support.

2. Trust in God transforms anxiety into strength

In moments of pressure, reliance on God opens paths that seemed closed.

3. True preparedness goes beyond written material

Real readiness lies in internal mastery, not in having a script. A successful preacher is one who has fully internalized the truth of what they convey.