You attend the gatherings. You let the dhikr settle into your chest; you lose yourself in the rise and fall of the nasheeds, the naats, the qawwalis. Voices climb in praise of the Prophet ﷺ and his blessed family — Sayyiduna Ali رضي الله عنه named the Lion of Allah, the reverence of Sayyiduna Husayn رضي الله عنه at Karbala, salawat sent upon the household until the throat aches. You walk out moved, warmed, certain you were somewhere blessed. And you were. But here is an honest question worth sitting with: did you understand the words that moved you — or only their music?
For a great many of us, the answer is the second, and not by choice. These verses are almost never in our own language. They reach us in Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Punjabi, Sindhi — tongues whose meanings most listeners cannot follow. So the gathering becomes the pull of the melody, the sway of the rhythm, the comfort of the crowd, and the quiet reward of having been present. None of that is empty. Being there, with a loving heart and a sincere intention, carries a real and recorded blessing. But the scholars of this Ummah are unanimous on something that should change how we sit in these rooms: presence is the first floor of a tall building, and understanding is the staircase upward. This article is about that staircase — and why climbing it turns dhikr from an act of the tongue into an act of the heart.
The Reward of Presence Is Real
Let it be said plainly first, because some go too far in the other direction and make sincere people feel their devotion is worthless. It is not. The one who sits in a gathering of the remembrance of Allah ﷻ, who sends blessings upon the Prophet ﷺ and loves his household, who comes with a humble and longing heart even without following every word — that person is rewarded. The Prophet ﷺ taught that the gatherings of dhikr are encircled by angels and covered in mercy, and that Allah ﷻ mentions those who remember Him in an assembly better than the one they sit in. Intention carries enormous weight in the Sharia: the Prophet ﷺ said that deeds are by their intentions, and the believer who comes seeking nearness to Allah ﷻ and love of the Prophet’s family is met according to what is in the heart. So the listener who cannot follow the language still receives the reward of presence, of love, and of intention. That floor is solid. No one should leave it feeling they were doing nothing.
But Understanding Opens a Far Higher Reward
Here is where the scholars draw the distinction that matters. The reward of being present and the reward of understanding are not the same reward — and the second is far greater, because it adds to the love of the heart the light of beneficial knowledge. The Quran does not ask merely to be heard; it asks to be understood. Allah ﷻ says: “Will they not then reflect upon the Quran?” (47:24) — a question that assumes the words are meant to be grasped, not only sounded. Imam al-Ghazali رحمه الله, in his Ihya Ulum al-Din, teaches that the Quran is to be recited with tadabbur — reflection upon its meanings — rather than rushed through as pages to be completed, and that the soul of worship is the presence of the heart in what is being said. When you understand the words moving through the gathering, a second reward joins the first: the reward the Prophet ﷺ promised to the seeker of beneficial knowledge, who travels a path to Paradise and for whom the angels lower their wings in pleasure. Without understanding, you receive the reward of presence and intention. With understanding, you receive that and the reward of seeking the knowledge that draws the heart nearer to Allah ﷻ. One is given; both is the fuller portion.
From the Tongue to the Heart
This is the real transformation the masters were pointing to. Imam al-Ghazali رحمه الله likened a prayer without presence of heart — khushu — to a body without a soul: the movements are performed, the words are uttered, but the living core is absent. The same principle applies to the gathering. Dhikr on the tongue alone is not nothing — the tongue’s remembrance is itself rewarded — but it is the outer shell of a far deeper reality. When you understand what you are saying and hearing, the remembrance descends from the tongue into the heart. The words stop being beautiful sounds and become meanings that act upon the soul: the salawat becomes a felt love for the Prophet ﷺ; the praise of Sayyiduna al-Husayn رضي الله عنه becomes a real reverence that softens and purifies; the praise of Allah ﷻ becomes a conscious standing before Him. This is the journey the heart is built for — from hearing to understanding, from understanding to feeling, from feeling to nearness. The melody carries you to the door; the meaning is the key that opens it.
What the Lovers of the Household Actually Meant
The arifeen and poets who composed these verses across the centuries — in the Chishti gatherings of the subcontinent, the Ba Alawi assemblies of Hadramawt, the Qadiri and Shadhili circles of every land — were not writing ornament to be enjoyed and forgotten. They were people of purified hearts pouring out a love for the Prophet ﷺ and his family that they had paid for in nights of worship and years of struggle. Their verses are dense with meaning: theology, history, longing, and counsel, folded into rhythm so the heart would carry them. To let those meanings pass by untranslated is to receive the gift still wrapped. And the gift, unwrapped, points in one consistent direction — not that the household is worshipped or made a partner in what belongs to Allah ﷻ alone, but that loving them, learning their lives, and honouring their trials is a means by which Allah ﷻ draws the believer’s heart toward Himself. To understand the words is to receive that guidance as it was intended, rather than only its echo.
How to Climb the Staircase
This is not a rebuke; it is an invitation, and the way up is gentle and within reach. Before the next gathering, take a single qasida or naat that is often recited and read its translation — even once. Sit with a teacher or a trusted resource that can place the verses in their meaning and their context. Learn the stories behind the names you hear: who Sayyiduna Husayn رضي الله عنه was and why he stood at Karbala; what Sayyidah Fatima عليها السلام embodied; what the salawat actually asks of Allah ﷻ. You need not master a language overnight. You need only begin to climb — to turn presence into understanding one verse at a time. Then, the next time the naat rises and fills the room, you will not arrive as a listener carried by the sound alone. You will arrive as one who knows the road the words are walking, whose remembrance lives in the heart and not only on the tongue, and who therefore receives the fuller of the two rewards: the blessing of presence, and the light of understanding joined to it.
Explore this theme in depth in The Deeper Link.
Do you still get rewarded for attending a gathering if you do not understand the language?
Yes. The one who attends a gathering of remembrance with love and sincere intention is rewarded for their presence, their devotion, and their intention, even without following every word. The Prophet ﷺ taught that gatherings of dhikr are surrounded by angels and covered in mercy, and that deeds are judged by their intentions. The reward of presence is real and solid — no sincere attendee should feel their devotion counts for nothing.
Why do scholars say understanding the words gives a greater reward?
Because understanding adds the reward of beneficial knowledge to the reward of presence. The Quran asks to be reflected upon — “Will they not then reflect upon the Quran?” (47:24) — and Imam al-Ghazali رحمه الله taught in the Ihya that worship should be performed with presence of heart and recitation with tadabbur (reflection), not as mere sounds. Without understanding you receive the reward of presence and intention; with understanding you receive that plus the reward of seeking the knowledge that draws the heart nearer to Allah ﷻ. The second is the fuller portion.
What does it mean for dhikr to move from the tongue to the heart?
Imam al-Ghazali رحمه الله likened worship without presence of heart to a body without a soul. Dhikr on the tongue alone is rewarded, but it is the outer shell. When you understand what you are saying, the remembrance descends from the tongue into the heart: the salawat becomes felt love for the Prophet ﷺ, the praise of Sayyiduna al-Husayn رضي الله عنه becomes purifying reverence, and the praise of Allah ﷻ becomes conscious standing before Him. Understanding is what carries remembrance from the tongue into the living core of the soul.