I’ve had this argument time and time again at work and it always follows the same format. It’s the middle of the night and the Bostwick gates are closed, as are we.
Then I’ll spot some clown on the CCTV who has wandered in.
“What are you doing in here?”
“The gate was open so I came in.”
“No, it wasn’t! The gate was closed because we are closed.”
“I found it open so I thought it was ok to come in.”
“It wasn’t open, it just wasn’t locked, there’s a big difference. If it’d been open there’d have been a huge empty space for you to walk through but what actually happened was you opened the gates and then you came in.”
“Well I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is I think it’s rude! If I go somewhere and see the shutters down or the gates are closed I think to myself ‘Heh, you know what? This place is closed.’ I mean, do you roam the streets trying people’s front doors and any that are unlocked you mosey on in, make a cup of tea and sit down to watch the snooker?”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“*exasperated* Well, I’d like you to leave. Oh, and close the gate behind you.”
The problem here is a presumption that “open” and “unlocked” are synonymous terms, when in fact they describe different scenarios. It’s as if they are implementing a variation of Descartes’s famous statement making it into “I can, therefore I’m allowed to.” An erroneous principle that sadly also seems to be used by some Muslims when determining halāl from harām.
Even at school I remember expressing shock at a friend who came to visit and just opened the front door and walked in without so much as a knock or a ding-dong. I was sitting on the sofa and exclaimed “How come you didn’t knock?” “Oh, I’m from the countryside, we just walk in, it’s perfectly normal practice.” “But… I mean I could have been doing anything, you can’t just walk in!”
I still can’t get over Michael Moore, in his documentary Bowling for Columbine, walking into people’s homes to test if it’s true that Canadians don’t lock their front doors. If some large American just opened my door and came inside I’d be super vexed. I react badly as it is when someone I don’t know rings my door bell ("Do I look like I’d be interested in changing electricity supplier!") and so it’d probably come to fisticuffs if a total stranger just walked on into my home.
So when I first came across some of the Islāmic texts that discuss the sunan of visiting someone, I was mighty impressed. There’s much that can be said in this regard but I’ll just raid Sahīh Muslim for a few ahādīth.
Knocking thrice will suffice.
Abū Sa’īd al-Khudrī reported that the Messenger of Allāh (Salla Allāh ‘alayhi wa sallam) said: “Permission (for entering the house) should be sought three times and if permission is granted to you (then get in) otherwise go back.”
I really think that’s beautiful having experienced people who knock in excess of three times. “Hello! Come on, I know your in there - open up!”
There are times when you simply just don’t want to answer the door so it’d be nice if people understood the “three knocks and go” principle. Like the recent salesman who, when I finally opened the door, asked “Oh, is it a bad time?” “Why is the way that my T-Shirt is sticking to my skin and the shampoo in my hair a bit of a give away?”
In fact there’s an annual festival of “I’m not in” that I resolutely implement and am training my children to as well; I think it’s more popularly known as Halloween. The trouble I’m finding is that for a young child a door bell ringing can be like an electric charge passing through their body which immediately animates them. So when the 31st October comes around the manic scream of excitement and accompanying bolt for the door, which ordinarily follows an unexpected knock, now has to be curtailed. *Ding-dong* “Door, door!” *runs for the stairs* “Stop! Don’t move, it’s trick or treaters, everyone stay still.” Personally, I find inactivity and lights off an easier solution to opening the door and trying to explain to a bunch of eight year old Witches, Ghosts and the odd Shrek, that they’ll not be getting any miniature Mars bars from this household because we just don’t do Pagan.
It can be a little more difficult with a phone ringing though, owing to the shorter distance involved, and troublesome when trying to avoid a particular call. My kids will happily be playing with their toys, then *ring, ring*, ears prick up and they assume the meerkat position, listening for the next ring seeking confirmation that it’s the phone that they’re hearing.
*ring, ring* Toy is dropped and in unison “Phone!” they then compete with one another to see who can get to the phone first. “Don’t answer the phone, don’t answer the phone, don’t ans...” *kid picks up phone* “Gimme that! [snatch the now answered phone]” “Hi, how are you? Yeah, I thought you might call.”
Don’t say Anā unless your name is Anna.
This can be really difficult to stop yourself at times especially when you’re very familiar with the person “Who is it?” “It’s me. I mean, err … your husband.” But the Messenger of Allāh (Salla Allāh ‘alayhi wa sallam) clearly disapproved of the “It’s me” type replies.
Jābir ibn Abdullāh reported: I came to Allāh’s Prophet (Salla Allāh ‘alayhi wa sallam) and called him (with a view to seeking permission). Whereupon Allāh’s Prophet (Salla Allāh ‘alayhi wa sallam) said: Who is it? I said: It is I (Anā). Thereupon he (the Prophet) came out saying: It is I, it is I (In the narration of Shu’ba it adds “in the manner as if he disapproved of this.”)
No peeping!
Sahl b. Sa’d al-Sa’īd reported that a person peeped through the hole of the door of Allāh’s Messenger (salla Allāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam), and at that time Allāh’s Messenger (salla Allāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) had with him a scratching instrument with which he had been scratching his head. When Allāh’s Messenger (salla Allāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) saw him, he said: If I were to know that you had been peeping through the door, I would have thrust that into your eyes, and Allāh’s Messenger (salla Allāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) said: Permission is needed as a protection against glance.
Or, Abu Hurayrah reported having heard Allāh’s Messenger (salla Allāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) say: He who peeped into the house of people without their consent, it is permissible for them to put out his eyes.
And I don’t think it’d be a wild leap of the imagination to say that this would be applicable to someone who lifts up the letter box to see who’s home “I can see his shoes, so he must be in.” Well if your eyes are really prescious to you then I suggest you stop seeing my shoes.
The prevalence of glass in modern society brings with it variations of the don’t peep scenario. You’re sitting on the top deck of a bus stopped at some traffic lights and you awake from day daydreaming to notice that you’re staring directly into someone’s living room and the occupant is staring back, hands extended, mouthing “What?” Well, I wasn’t doing it intentionally but seeing as you’re the one with a house on a bus route I’ve got a two words of advice for you – “Net Curtains!”