By Saqib Safdar — Mar 20, 2025

The Inner Meaning of Prayer Postures in Ibn ʿArabi’s Mystical Vision

In Sufi tradition, the ritual Ṣalāt (Islamic prayer) is far more than a set of physical movements – it is a journey of the soul toward the Divine. Ibn ʿArabi teaches that each posture of the prayer represents a distinct spiritual state and stage on the path to God. In his al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya (Meccan Revelations) and other writings, he unveils the esoteric significance of standing, bowing, prostrating, and sitting in prayer. Performed with presence and humility, these movements become an ascension (miʿrāj) of the spirit, leading the seeker from separation to intimate Divine presence and ultimately to the realization of union. The following exposition, in a reflective and poetic tone, explores each posture’s inner meaning through Ibn ʿArabi’s insights, accompanied by original Arabic citations and their translations, with references to chapter and book.

Standing (Qiyām): The Servant at the Door of the King

Prayer begins with the worshipper standing upright, facing the Divine with intention. Ibn ʿArabi likens the standing (qiyām) posture to the letter alif (ا) – a straight vertical line. This verticality symbolizes the soul’s primordial orientation toward the One, the Oneness (tawḥīd) of God. The servant stands like a humble petitioner at the door of the Divine King, acknowledging God’s supreme authority. In al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, Ibn ʿArabi emphasizes that one stands only by God’s command and grace, not by one’s own power. He writes in Chapter 69, “fa-innī lammā qumtu bayna yadayk lam aqum illā imtithālan li-amrik ḥaythu qult: wa-qumū li-llāh” ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية) (“For when I stood before You, I stood only in obedience to Your command, as You have said, ‘Stand before God (in devotion)’”). Standing in prayer thus represents the state of devoted servanthood (ʿubūdiyya): the soul rises to attention only for God’s sake, heeding the call “Allāhu Akbar” that opens the prayer.

In this initial posture, the seeker affirms the intention to worship none but God. The heart turns away from all worldly distractions – symbolically casting them behind by the raising of the hands – and focuses on the Divine presence before it. Ibn ʿArabi teaches that as the servant stands and begins the recitation of the Fātiḥa (Opening chapter of the Qur’an), an intimate dialogue unfolds between God and the worshipper ( الفتوحات المكية - إبن عربي - کتابخانه مدرسه فقاهت ). The standing posture is a station of awe and receptivity: the servant praises the Lord of the worlds, and God responds, “My servant has praised Me.” In this state, the worshipper experiences the opening of the heart, standing as a fragile creature before the Majestic One. It is the beginning of the journey, where the soul acknowledges the Lord’s transcendence while mustering the courage to draw near. The outward form – straight and still – mirrors an inner stillness and uprightness of the heart, aligning itself with the axis of Divine Unity.

Bowing (Rukūʿ): Descent in Reverence and the Bridge Between

From standing, the worshipper gently transitions to bowing (rukūʿ), lowering the torso and placing the hands on the knees. This posture of partial prostration signifies deep reverence and humility. Ibn ʿArabi describes bowing as the servant’s acknowledgment that even in standing upright, there may have been a hint of self-consciousness. Thus the servant now bends low to efface any notion of self and to glorify God’s majesty. In the Futūḥāt (Chapter 69), he envisions the worshipper addressing God in the bowing posture: “Allāhumma laka rakaʿtu” – “O God, for You I have bowed.” He explains the inner meaning of this: “fa-aʿtarifu bayna yadayka bi-rukūʿī innī laka rakaʿtu” ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية) – “I acknowledge before You by my bowing that it is for You that I have bowed.” In other words, by bowing the servant testifies that his very act of standing a moment ago was not by his own might, but in obedience to God. Ibn ʿArabi continues in the same passage, having the worshipper say: “wa-bika āmantu wa-laka aslamtu” – “and in You I have believed, and to You I have submitted,” affirming that faith and surrender are accomplished only through God’s help.

Bowing is thus the spiritual state of humility (khushūʿ). The back is bowed and the head lowered, symbolizing the heart’s submission before the Divine Grandeur (ʿaẓama). The vertical posture of pride is broken; the servant becomes like a bridge between heaven and earth – horizontal, humble, poised between the higher and lower. Ibn ʿArabi notes that the bowing position, oriented at a right angle, serves as an isthmus (barzakh) between the standing and the prostration Just as the horizon line joins sky and ground, bowing mediates between the human and the Divine. In this middle station, the worshipper’s state is one of tawāsul – seeking nearness – and recognition of Divine Majesty. It is no coincidence that in bowing, one glorifies God as “al-ʿAẓīm” (the Magnificent), tasting the awe of His greatness.

According to Ibn ʿArabi, the bowing also corresponds to the pivotal verse of the Fātiḥa: “iyyāka naʿbudu wa iyyāka nastaʿīn” (“You alone we worship, and You alone we ask for help”). This verse is the point of meeting between servant and Lord, dividing the Fātiḥa into God’s portion and the servant’s portion. In the same way, the act of bowing marks the meeting of the human will in worship with the Divine response in support. It is a shared moment – the servant declares total worship and neediness, and God’s aid is present. Thus, the rukūʿ embodies the soul’s dependence: the believer bends in profound veneration, relinquishing any claim to independence. In this posture, as Ibn ʿArabi beautifully illustrates, the servant’s hearing and vision, even the very marrow of his bones, “humbles itself” before God ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية), acknowledging that every faculty and every strength is sustained only by Him. The heart bows, not just the body, and all pride is dissolved in the presence of the One deserving all praise.

When the seeker rises from the bow at God’s beckoning, it is a moment of Divine reply and elevation. Ibn ʿArabi observes that as the Gnostic (ʿārif) straightens up from rukūʿ, he speaks “on behalf of his Lord”: “samiʿa -llāhu liman ḥamidah” ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية) – “God hears the one who praises Him.” In reality, it is God declaring that He has heard His servant’s glorification. The human tongue becomes the instrument of the Divine voice, indicating an intimate communion. Then the servant, now standing again but chastened by humility, responds in praise: “Rabbanā wa laka l-ḥamd” – “Our Lord, to You belongs all praise.” Ibn ʿArabi notes the subtle omission of the vocative “yā” (O) in “Allāhumma Rabbanā lakal-ḥamd”, because at that instant the worshipper is in the Divine Presence, near to God, and calling out as if face-to-face. This exchange in the brief return to standing signifies that through bowing, the servant has drawn nearer – the prayer becomes a dialogue, “You have praised Me, and I answer that I hear and raise you.” It is a foretaste of union, yet not its fullness – a preparation for the deepest surrender to come.

Prostration (Sujūd): Annihilation in Divine Unity

With the cry of “Allāhu Akbar” once more, the worshipper moves from bowing to the most profound posture – the prostration (sujūd). Here the forehead, the seat of intellect and ego, touches the ground. The servant’s face – symbol of identity – is pressed to the dust. This is the pinnacle of humility and the heart of the prayer’s inner journey. In prostration the seeker enacts fanāʾ – the annihilation of the self in the Divine presence. As the Prophet ﷺ taught, “The servant is never closer to his Lord than when he is in prostration.” In this posture, one returns to one’s origin (earth) and recognizes one’s nothingness before the All-Present. Ibn ʿArabi, in Chapter 69 of al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, offers a penetrating exposition of sujūd. He remarks that when the gnostic prostrates, he says: “sajada wajhī lilladhī khalaqahu…”, then explains: “yaqūlu al-ʿārif: sajada wajhī ay ḥaqīqatī, fa-inna wajha al-shayʾ ḥaqīqatuh” ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية) – “The gnostic says: ‘My face has prostrated’, meaning my very reality (essence) [has prostrated], for the face of a thing is its reality.” Thus, placing the face on the ground is a sign that one’s innermost reality is completely submitted and absorbed in the act of worshipping the Real (al-Ḥaqq). The ego is utterly flattened; only the Divine remains exalted.

In prostration, every element of the human being is in a state of sujūd: body, mind, and spirit. Ibn ʿArabi notes that even the secret thoughts and subtle energies within us must “prostrate” by recognizing God as the source and sustainer of all their qualities ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية). When the worshipper says “subḥāna Rabbīya l-Aʿlā” (“Glory be to my Lord, the Most High”) in sujūd, it is an affirmation that all highness belongs to God alone, while the servant embraces being lowly and poor. This is the mystic’s consummation of humility – a death before death of the selfish self. Yet, paradoxically, this lowliness brings the highest closeness. Just as a seed must be buried in soil to grow, the soul touches its lowest point only to receive Divine grace that elevates it. Ibn ʿArabi and other Sufis often describe this state as the wine of union – an intimacy tasted in the heart when one is “lost” in the ground of God’s presence.

Indeed, Ibn ʿArabi relates that in the midst of sincere prayer he experienced his being dissolving into pure light. Once, during prostration, he perceived himself transformed into an intense illumination where all sense of direction and self vanished. This accords with the supplication the Prophet would recite in sujūd (and which Ibn ʿArabi expounds): “O Allah, place light in my heart, light in my hearing, light in my sight… and make me light”. In the state of sujūd the seeker’s heart is filled with Divine light and knowledge (maʿrifa). Having emptied himself of selfhood, he becomes like a polished mirror reflecting the Light of God. This is the station of absolute proximity and servanthood – the servant has reached the floor of his existence, only to find that the floor is the threshold of the Eternal. In the words of Ibn ʿArabi, the face – one’s very reality – prostrates to the Creator who gave it form ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية). Nothing remains in that moment but the Real being worshipped through the secret of the servant. It is a moment of ecstasy and annihilation: the drop of selfhood disappears into the ocean of Oneness.

Yet the journey does not end with annihilation. The mercy of God raises the servant up from the ashes of self. After a pause in this intimate nearness, the worshipper sits back from the first prostration, then bows down in a second prostration – a further taste of that sweetness of loss of self. Ibn ʿArabi observed that the ritual often contains two prostrations as an echo of the human being’s twofold origin: first from earth (body) and second from spirit. In each prostration, the seeker is seeking the Source – the first sujūd returning the body to the earth (its origin), the second seeking to utterly surrender the spirit to God (its heavenly origin). Between these two prostrations, one sits briefly, like a moment of resurrection after death, only to willingly descend again. This movement signifies that the journey to the Divine is iterative – one may need to annihilate oneself again and again in God’s presence to be purified. Finally, the servant rises from the second sujūd and settles in the sitting posture for the culmination of the prayer.

Sitting (Tashahhud): Witnessing and Union in Servanthood

The prayer’s final posture is the sitting position (julūs), in which the worshipper recites the tashahhud – the testimony of faith and peace upon the Prophet. Mystically, this sitting represents the state of subsistence (baqāʾ) after the annihilation of sujūd. The servant, having “died” to the ego, is now re-born in awakened consciousness, ready to witness the truths unveiled through the prayer. Ibn ʿArabi teaches that the fruit of annihilation is enduring presence with God – living in the world as a vessel of the Divine will. In the tashahhud, one sits calmly, spine erect (again resembling the alif but now in a state of repose), and bears witness: “al-salāmu ʿalayka ayyuhā n-nabiyyu…” – greeting the Prophet and the righteous, and affirming “ash-hadu an lā ilāha illa-llāh, wa ash-hadu anna Muḥammadan ʿabduhū wa rasūluh” (“I bear witness that there is no god but God, and Muhammad is His servant and messenger”). This testimony is not meant to be a mere formula – it is the distilled realization of the prayer. The soul, having ascended and been transformed, now witnesses the Divine Oneness with the eye of the heart. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ is addressed directly in the second person, for in the sanctified imagination of the mystic, the Prophet’s presence is felt in this moment as an intercessor and guide in the Divine proximity. Ibn ʿArabi often speaks of the Muhammadan Reality (al-ḥaqīqa al-Muḥammadiyya) as the Logos or channel through which servants meet God; in the tashahhud the worshipper’s spiritual vision beholds this reality and honors it with salutations of peace.

Sitting in the final posture symbolizes balance and integration. The seeker does not remain physically on the ground nor standing in active effort, but sits peacefully – indicating a state of inner equilibrium. The outward stillness mirrors the inner peace (sakīna) that God bestows upon the heart that has been emptied and filled with His light. Having been “brought low” in prostration, the servant is now “raised high” in awareness, yet remains a servant – hence the testimony affirms Muhammad as God’s servant and messenger, highlighting that the highest human station is always servanthood (ʿubūdiyya). In this posture, the servant experiences a closeness without pride – a union in separation: fully aware of the Divine Presence (union) while maintaining the distinction of being the worshipper and God the Worshipped (separation). Ibn ʿArabi’s esoteric teaching often emphasizes this perfected state, where the mystic carries the secrets of union in the humble vessel of servitude. The sitting position is thus the station of witnessing (shuhūd). The seeker, now a true witness to God’s Oneness, proclaims the Shahādah not only with the tongue but from the direct tasting (dhawq) of that reality experienced in the depths of sujūd. It is a serene communion, as if sitting in the companionship of the Divine Beloved, conversing through the words of prayer and feeling the gentle peace (salām) that descends upon the hearts of the lovers of God.

As the prayer concludes, the servant spreads peace to all horizons by turning the head to the right and left, saying “al-salāmu ʿalaykum wa raḥmatullāh” – Peace be upon you and God’s mercy. This final act, though not a “posture” in the strict sense, carries profound meaning. It symbolizes the return from the intimate union back to the world of multiplicity, much like a prophet or mystic returning from the mountaintop. The worshipper now gazes back upon creation with the eye of compassion. Having attained a measure of gnosis and closeness to the One, the servant is sent back as a channel of peace to others. Ibn ʿArabi alludes that the blessings received in the ascent of prayer must now be radiated outward: the salam is given to the angelic witnesses and to all creatures. The prayer, which began with the singular focus on God’s oneness (standing like an alif of tawḥīd), ends with a dispersion of the energy of mercy to the universe (salam in dual directions). This completes the circle of the journey – from the world to the Divine and back to the world, the servant returns as a transformed being.

Conclusion: The Mystic Journey of Prayer

In Ibn ʿArabi’s mystical exposition, the movements of prayer trace a profound inner voyage. The soul moves from initiative (standing in obedience), to self-effacement (bowing in humility), to spiritual intimacy (prostrating in annihilation), and finally to witnessing and service (sitting in union and sending peace). Each posture is a station on the path to God, a mode of the heart before the Divine Presence. As the Greatest Master (al-Shaykh al-Akbar) teaches, prayer contains an entire cosmology of the spirit: through it the seeker mirrors the very journey of return to the Source. Standing tall reflects our origin in the Spirit and the Divine command that brought us into being; bowing low recalls that we are a midpoint between heaven and earth, utterly dependent on God’s sustaining power; prostration returns us to the earth from which we were created, annihilating us into the One; and sitting erect testifies to the resurrection of the soul in knowledge and love of God.

Throughout this journey, the duality of worshipper and Worshipped undergoes a subtle transformation. Ibn ʿArabi hints at an open secret: at the deepest level, God is the true actor in each posture. He praises Himself through the tongue of the servant and He lowers the servant to raise him into His nearness ([عند ما يرفع العارف رأسه من الركوع‏] - الفتوحات المكية). Yet the servant must remain ever aware of his servanthood, for that is the beauty of the relationship – the lover and the Beloved, distinct but never separate. In the intimate language of Ibn ʿArabi’s Futūḥāt, when the worshipper says “You alone we worship and You alone we ask for help,” it is both a declaration of devotion and an acknowledgement that only by God’s help can we worship Him at all. Prayer becomes a dance of love between the human and the Divine: every posture a step drawing nearer, every word a secret exchanged.

Ultimately, the inner meaning of the prayer postures is union through devotion. By physically enacting submission, the seeker’s heart is spiritualized and lifted to experience the Divine embrace. Ibn ʿArabi and the Sufi masters describe this as the state of the Perfect Servant, who mirrors the Prophet’s Night Journey in every cycle of prayer. What begins in form (ṣūra) is completed in reality (ḥaqīqa): the form of standing, bowing, prostrating, sitting, when filled with sincerity and presence, becomes the very vehicle of ascending to God. Thus, the Muslim prayer is at once an earthly ritual and a heavenly ascent. In a beautifully paradoxical way, the lowest posture (sujūd) becomes the loftiest state, and the return to sitting and salam grounds the mystical insight into lived compassion.

In contemplative reflection, one realizes that the entire cosmos is engaged in a similar “prayer” – every creature standing in existence by God’s command, bowing in the limits of its power, prostrating in its mortality, and bearing witness to the Creator’s lordship. The human being, however, has the gift of performing this consciously and lovingly. Ibn ʿArabi encourages the seeker to taste these meanings in each rakʿah of prayer. With each cycle, one dives deeper: outward motions unveil inner lights. The prayer becomes an experiential meditation on the journey of return to the Beloved.

In the soft poetry of the mystic’s heart, when the forehead touches the ground, it whispers: “From You I came, to You I return.” When the body rises and sits in peace, the heart responds: “You are my witness, and I am Yours.” Such is the lofty station of prayer that the Prophet ﷺ called it “the coolness of my eyes” and the Miʿrāj of the believer. In the end, the secret of all postures is love: the lover standing in longing, bowing in awe, prostrating in passionate self-surrender, and sitting in the delight of communion. As Ibn ʿArabi would affirm, each posture invites the divine kiss of grace. Each is a doorway to a state of the soul on its voyage home. In the silence that follows the prayer, the mystic remains inwardly prostrate before the One, even while outwardly going about the world – carrying the fragrance of that meeting in the heart, until the next prayer, when the soul will eagerly embark again toward the eternal Beloved.