While in Israel, I had the opportunity to visit the Kotel three times.

On one visit, the plaza was nearly deserted.

So I walked right up to the front of the women’s section and placed my hands on the wall.

And I prayed for guidance.

Hints came in non-cognitive forms: feelings, images, random associations.

Occasionally I would take control long enough to formulate a question. “Why this image?” “What’s the message?”

But the rush of inchoate hints crowded out every question. Only one word stayed put: “Help!”

Finally my tears, heartbeats, and waking dreams gave way to a clear conclusion.

“There’s only one way to fix what is broken in my life: I am going to work on my relationship with you, God.”

The words may be trite, and the instructions vague, but the freedom is extraordinary and the way is suddenly clear.

I’m now attuned to accounts of people recognizing the limits of their powers, and placing themselves in God’s hands.

Last week, I found a beautiful one towards the beginning of the Qur’an.

This is the Book about which there is no doubt, a guidance for those conscious of Allah – who believe in the unseen, establish prayer, and spend out of what We have provided for them, and who believe in what has been revealed to you, O Muhammad, and what was revealed before you, and of the Hereafter they are certain in faith. Those are upon right guidance from their Lord, and it is those who are the successful. Indeed, those who disbelieve – it is all the same for them whether you warn them or do not warn them – they will not believe. Allah has set a seal upon their hearts and upon their hearing, and over their vision is a veil. And for them is a great punishment. — Qur’an 2:2-7, Sahih International Translation

I shared this sura with a group of university students. Some could not see the passage in a positive light.

“It seems harsh!” they said.

Yes, it does predict a great punishment.

“It seems paradoxical,” they said. “How could Allah close their hearts and then punish them for it?”

Yes, this is a good philosophical question about the nature of free will. If God controls our thoughts and feelings, can God hold us accountable for them?

Of course, you could whisk away both questions with a spiritual interpretation of the passage. Yes, God has placed veils over our eyes. In our natural, everyday consciousness we view the world through a filter. Self-interest, materialism, ego protection – God gifted us with these survival mechanisms. Spiritual development invites us to see past personal survival needs and lift the veils of everyday thinking. A new spiritual vision brings joy; never glimpsing it brings pain. Avoiding spirituality is its own punishment.

But I don’t think you have to leap to a Sufi-like intepretation to find positive inspiration in the passage. A more literal analysis can point you there.

Who is speaking in this passage? Not Mohammed – he is being addressed. Not Allah – Allah is one of the subjects discussed. Instead, the angel Gabriel is speaking to Mohammed about Allah.

Generalizing about Hebrew Bible, New Testament and Qur’an, Professor F.E. Peters says that scripture offers (1) words revealed by God; (2) transmitted by an authoritative prophet or teacher; (3) to a particular community of believers; (4) in order to provoke them into a new way of living. What a wonderful description of the similar missions of Moshe, Jesus, Mohammed.

In this sura, the angel Gabriel reminds Mohammed about the validity of his mission. “Yes, you have preached and preached. Not everyone in the community has listened; not everyone has been provoked into a new way of living. But that does not make you a failure. You still offer a genuine revelation, and you are still an authoritative teacher. But you alone cannot control or change everyone. Some things you simply need to leave in God’s hands.”

Here, between the lines, Mohammed has a crisis of faith. He has preached, promised, and threatened, using all his charisma and knowledge. But he still has not realized his vision. With a heart full of pain, he prays for guidance. And the angel Gabriel reminds him: There is only one fix. Let God take over.

Perhaps it’s risky for me to admit that I find inspiration in Muslim scriptures. Perhaps it’s uncomfortable for others to read. But Mohammed’s crisis of faith is not so different from Moshe’s after the incident of the Golden Calf. Moshe lets go of anger at himself and others, and prays to be led only by God’s compassionate nature.

When I stood at the Kotel, I did not know that was my prayer. But now that I know, the freedom is extraordinary and the way is suddenly clear.