Healing from the Quran and Sunnah (part 1) – what is healing?

BySaania Bhatti

 

Healing with the Quran and Sunnah

I was looking recently at some of the Hikam, the aphorisms of Ibn Ataillah al-Iskandari, and one of them really stayed with me:

من أشرقت بدايته أشرقت نهايته

“Whoever has a luminous beginning will have a luminous end.”
(Ibn Ataillah al-Iskandari, al-Hikam al-Ata’iyyah)

I thought that was very powerful. If you begin with the right intention and you begin with khayr, then inshaAllah you end with khayr. We have a similar saying in English: start as you mean to go on.

It would be very easy to give a historical talk about tibb, to look at remedies that were used in the past and call that prophetic medicine. But I am much more interested in integrative care. What are the things we can actually bring into our lives now? What remains relevant and applicable to us? How do we keep the Sunnah alive in the way we think about our health and the way we live?

Before we talk about healing, we first need to ask what we mean by health and illness. We often think of them as two ends of a simple spectrum: we become ill and then we try to get back to health. But what does being healthy actually mean?

I want to look at healing holistically, through the mind, the body and the soul. We will look at the concept of tibb itself, at food and the Prophetic lifestyle ﷺ, at mental health, and at what it means to live with afiyah, a state of wellbeing and protection. We will also consider our environment and the effect it can have on our health.

Because our subject is healing through the Quran and Sunnah, much of the discussion will naturally focus on the spiritual aspects of healing. But we will also look at some practical aspects of lifestyle and how these can be understood through the Sunnah.

What is health?

The World Health Organization gives a definition which I think is useful because our own idea of health can sometimes be quite vague. By the time somebody comes to see a doctor, they have usually reached the point where something is wrong and the focus is on treating or fixing that problem. Health, however, is much broader than the absence of a particular illness.

The WHO defines health as:

“A state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.”
(Constitution of the World Health Organization)

That immediately gives us a much wider framework within which to think about what it means to be well.

Health is not simply the absence of disease or sickness. The World Health Organization later expanded on its definition by describing health as a resource for everyday life, something which enables us to function, cope with the demands of life and participate in our communities.

I think that comes very close to what we mean in Islam by afiyah. It is broader than sihhah, simply feeling physically well. Afiyah is a much fuller sense of wellbeing: that you are functioning well, protected from harm and able to live your life as you should.

What is healing?

Healing is the process of becoming healthy or whole again. We use the same word in different contexts: a wound heals; a broken bone heals; we can also heal after grief, emotional pain or conflict. And healing does not necessarily mean erasing what happened or returning to exactly who you were before. Sometimes the experience remains part of you, but it no longer controls you.

I think this distinction is really important. Healing is not always about patching up a problem or suppressing symptoms. It is about recovery, acceptance and being able to move forward. Sometimes healing does not look like a complete reversal. Sometimes it looks like a new you.

The German word heilen means to heal, while heil carries the sense of being whole or sound. There is also heilig, meaning holy. There is something quite striking in that connection between healing, wholeness and holiness.

And this brings us quite naturally to the Islamic concept of healing. The word we find in the Quran is shifa, healing. Within an Islamic understanding, we are not looking only at a physical body or only at a psychological state. We are looking at the human being as a whole. The mind, body and soul affect one another, and ultimately we recognise that healing comes from Allah.

The Prophet ﷺ would say when praying for someone who was ill:

أَذْهِبِ الْبَاسَ رَبَّ النَّاسِ، وَاشْفِ أَنْتَ الشَّافِي، لَا شِفَاءَ إِلَّا شِفَاؤُكَ، شِفَاءً لَا يُغَادِرُ سَقَمًا

“Remove the harm, Lord of mankind, and heal. You are the Healer. There is no healing except Your healing, a healing which leaves no illness behind.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari)

Allah is al-Shafi, the One who heals. We take the means available to us, whether that is medicine, nutrition, therapy, rest or something else, but we understand that those are means. The healing itself is from Allah.

Healing in the Quran

When we look at healing, we begin with the Quran. Allah describes the Quran itself as a source of shifa:

يَا أَيُّهَا النَّاسُ قَدْ جَاءَتْكُم مَّوْعِظَةٌ مِّن رَّبِّكُمْ وَشِفَاءٌ لِّمَا فِي الصُّدُورِ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةٌ لِّلْمُؤْمِنِينَ

“O mankind, there has come to you instruction from your Lord, and healing for what is in the hearts, and guidance and mercy for the believers.”
(Surah Yunus, 10:57)

Here, the Quran is speaking about a healing of what is within us, what lies in the breasts or the hearts. There is a spiritual and emotional dimension to that healing.

But the Quran also speaks about healing in a very physical sense. When Allah describes the bee, He says:

يَخْرُجُ مِن بُطُونِهَا شَرَابٌ مُّخْتَلِفٌ أَلْوَانُهُ فِيهِ شِفَاءٌ لِّلنَّاسِ ۗ إِنَّ فِي ذَٰلِكَ لَآيَةً لِّقَوْمٍ يَتَفَكَّرُونَ

“From their bellies comes a drink of varying colours, in which there is healing for people. Surely in this is a sign for those who reflect.”
(Surah al-Nahl, 16:69)

This, of course, is referring to honey. The Quran contains these beautiful descriptions of the natural world, of animals, milk, honey and the foods Allah has provided for us. Here we can see a very tangible form of healing.

Allah also says:

وَنُنَزِّلُ مِنَ الْقُرْآنِ مَا هُوَ شِفَاءٌ وَرَحْمَةٌ لِّلْمُؤْمِنِينَ وَلَا يَزِيدُ الظَّالِمِينَ إِلَّا خَسَارًا

“We send down of the Quran that which is healing and mercy for the believers, but it only increases the wrongdoers in loss.”
(Surah al-Isra, 17:82)

And when Prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him) speaks about his Lord, he says:

وَإِذَا مَرِضْتُ فَهُوَ يَشْفِينِ

“And when I am ill, it is He who heals me.”
(Surah al-Shuara, 26:80)

That is such a simple yet deep statement. We seek treatment and we use the means Allah has given us, but we never lose sight of where healing comes from.

Elsewhere Allah says of the Quran:

قُلْ هُوَ لِلَّذِينَ آمَنُوا هُدًى وَشِفَاءٌ

“Say: It is guidance and healing for those who believe.”
(Surah Fussilat, 41:44)

There is even a verse in which the language of healing is used for the emotional pain carried in the hearts of the believers:

قَاتِلُوهُمْ يُعَذِّبْهُمُ اللَّهُ بِأَيْدِيكُمْ وَيُخْزِهِمْ وَيَنصُرْكُمْ عَلَيْهِمْ وَيَشْفِ صُدُورَ قَوْمٍ مُّؤْمِنِينَ

“Fight them. Allah will punish them at your hands, disgrace them, give you victory over them and heal the hearts of a believing people.”
(Surah al-Tawbah, 9:14)

So even within these few verses, shifa is not confined to one type of healing, but can be the healing of the heart, spiritual healing, physical healing and relief from emotional pain.

One concept I find particularly interesting in this context is ishtibak. It comes from the work of the ninth-century scholar and physician Abu Zayd al-Balkhi, particularly his Masalih al-Abdan wa al-Anfus, usually translated as Sustenance for the Body and Soul. Al-Balkhi used the idea of ishtibak, literally an interweaving or entangling, to describe the close relationship between the body and the soul.

I love this concept because it describes something we are still trying to understand in modern medicine. Today we might talk about a biopsychosocial model of health, and I would add the spiritual dimension as well. Al-Balkhi was already writing about the way physical and psychological health affect one another.

Food affects the body, but it can also affect how we feel. Sleep affects our physical health, but anyone who has been badly sleep-deprived knows what it can do to their mood and their thinking. Our mental state can affect our ability to worship. When we are struggling psychologically, we may feel exhausted, unmotivated or unable to concentrate. Equally, if we overeat and feel heavy and sluggish, getting up for prayer becomes more difficult. Then missing that prayer may itself affect how we feel. Everything feeds into everything else.

We are not a head with a body attached to it and a soul sitting somewhere separately. Allah has created us as integrated human beings. Once we understand that, we also begin to see that there can be more than one entry point into healing. Sometimes you begin with the body. Sometimes it is the mind. Sometimes the spiritual disconnection is where you need to begin. Often you need to work on more than one at the same time.

This is one of the reasons I think the Sunnah gives us such a valuable framework for health. If you look at the life of the Prophet ﷺ, he carried an extraordinary burden of responsibility. He faced bereavement, persecution, conflict, hunger and enormous pressure. He carried the message and the responsibility of leading a community, and yet what we see in his life is an extraordinarily balanced pattern of living.

When you look at many of the things now discussed in lifestyle medicine, wellbeing or even by modern productivity experts, you find elements that have always been there in the Sunnah: the pattern of sleep and waking, moderation in eating, fasting, movement, community, worship, time outdoors, maintaining relationships and having a clear sense of purpose.

I could spend hours looking at the research behind each of those things, but I want to look at the Sunnah itself as a framework and ask how much of it we can realistically bring back into our modern lives.

That also means talking about illness, because very often it is illness that makes us realise the value of health. We do not always notice health while we have it.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

اغْتَنِمْ خَمْسًا قَبْلَ خَمْسٍ: شَبَابَكَ قَبْلَ هَرَمِكَ، وَصِحَّتَكَ قَبْلَ سَقَمِكَ، وَغِنَاكَ قَبْلَ فَقْرِكَ، وَفَرَاغَكَ قَبْلَ شُغْلِكَ، وَحَيَاتَكَ قَبْلَ مَوْتِكَ

“Take advantage of five before five: your youth before your old age, your health before your illness, your wealth before your poverty, your free time before your busyness, and your life before your death.”
(Al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak)

Health is one of those blessings that can be almost invisible to us until something happens to it.

Health is a gift. We are not owed it by Allah. But when Allah has gifted us with health, we also have a responsibility to look after it. Our bodies are an amanah. They are the means through which we live, worship Allah, serve other people and fulfil the responsibilities He has given us.

The Prophet ﷺ made this responsibility very clear:

وَإِنَّ لِجَسَدِكَ عَلَيْكَ حَقًّا

“Your body has a right over you.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari)

So taking care of ourselves is not something separate from our spiritual lives. It is part of them.

Of course, we can do everything we reasonably can to look after ourselves and still become ill. Illness is one of the ways in which we may be tested. But there is also a responsibility to recognise the effect of our own choices. I do not want to say that harshly, because illness is complex and nobody should assume that somebody is unwell because they have somehow failed. But there are aspects of our health that we can influence, and I think we need to own that.

As a community, we are not always very good at this. We can eat mindlessly, barely move, sleep badly, live with difficult relationships and have very little sakinah in the home, then somehow expect our bodies and minds to carry on indefinitely without being affected. We reach our forties, fifties and sixties, things begin to catch up with us, and suddenly we are surprised. I feel quite strongly about this because I have been passionate about health since I was about ten years old.

At the same time, no amount of healthy living gives us immunity from being tested. Allah tells us:

وَلَنَبْلُوَنَّكُم بِشَيْءٍ مِّنَ الْخَوْفِ وَالْجُوعِ وَنَقْصٍ مِّنَ الْأَمْوَالِ وَالْأَنفُسِ وَالثَّمَرَاتِ ۗ وَبَشِّرِ الصَّابِرِينَ

“We will certainly test you with something of fear and hunger, and loss of wealth, lives and fruits, but give good news to those who are patient.”
(Surah al-Baqarah, 2:155)

Illness can be one of those tests. And there is immense comfort in knowing that suffering borne with faith is not wasted. The Prophet ﷺ said:

مَا يُصِيبُ الْمُسْلِمَ مِنْ نَصَبٍ وَلَا وَصَبٍ وَلَا هَمٍّ وَلَا حُزْنٍ وَلَا أَذًى وَلَا غَمٍّ، حَتَّى الشَّوْكَةِ يُشَاكُهَا، إِلَّا كَفَّرَ اللَّهُ بِهَا مِنْ خَطَايَاهُ

“No fatigue, illness, worry, grief, harm or distress afflicts a Muslim, even the prick of a thorn, except that Allah expiates some of his sins through it.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari)

That does not mean we simply suffer passively. We seek treatment, we try to recover and we make changes where changes are needed. But alongside that effort is sabr: accepting the decree of Allah and trusting that there can still be meaning in what we are going through.

Post-traumatic growth

There is a concept in psychology called post-traumatic growth. It describes positive psychological changes that can sometimes emerge through the struggle with severe adversity. It does not mean trauma itself is good, nor that everybody who suffers will experience growth because of it. But people can come through very difficult experiences with changed priorities, a deeper appreciation of life or a different understanding of themselves.

There is a Japanese art called kintsugi which I think gives us a beautiful image for this. When a piece of pottery breaks, it is repaired rather than discarded, and the lines of repair are often highlighted with gold. The cracks are not hidden. They become part of the history of the object.

Sometimes healing is a bit like that. The broken pieces come back together, but not necessarily in exactly the same form. You are changed by what you have been through. You may have been forced to rethink what matters, what you value and what you want to do with your life.

I remember something a shaykh said when I went for Hajj, and I have never forgotten it. He described Hajj as being like a washing machine. It sounds funny, but it made complete sense at the time. You begin with Mina, then Arafah, then Muzdalifah, Tawaf, the crowds, the tiredness, the lack of sleep. You feel as though you are being spun harder and harder, and through that process you come out changed. Life can feel like that as well. One experience prepares us for another. We build skills we did not realise we were building, and sometimes we only understand why much later.

Allah says:

لَا يُكَلِّفُ اللَّهُ نَفْسًا إِلَّا وُسْعَهَا

“Allah does not burden a soul beyond its capacity.”
(Surah al-Baqarah, 2:286)

The key is to trust Him through the process. A test can force us to reprioritise very quickly. What actually matters to me? My health? My family? My relationships? My wealth? What am I doing with the time I have? Illness has a way of making some of those questions much less theoretical. It can also bring us back to purpose.

Another important principle is that illness and healing are both under the decree of Allah. We may make choices which contribute to becoming unwell, and our behaviour matters, but those choices are still causes rather than independent powers. The same is true of treatment.

You might go to a doctor, take a medication such as Mounjaro for weight management and lose weight. The medication is a means, and it can be an effective one for appropriate patients, but the outcome is never entirely in our hands. We use the means, while knowing that shifa itself is from Allah.

Delivered by Dr Saania Bhatti to the Al Manaar Convert Club on 11th August 2026.

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