Transcript of the Friday Khutbah delivered by Shaikh Ahmad Kutty at the Islamic Institute of Toronto (IIT) on Friday, July 10, 2026.

O Allah, all praise and thanks belong only to You.
You created us when we were nothing, You provide for us every day, You guided us to the straight path, You gave us health, and You taught us what we did not know.

O Allah, honour us by making us among those who remember You often and thank You sincerely.
Honour us to start every morning with gratitude for Your blessings, and honour us to use every blessing in the way that pleases You and for the purpose You created it.

O Allah, honour us to love You, to love Your Messenger ﷺ, to love those who love You, and to love every deed that brings us closer to Your love.

My dear brothers and sisters,
I remind myself first, and then each one of you, to be conscious of Allah. Remember that a day is coming when we will stand before Him for the final reckoning—a day when hearts will tremble and eyes will be filled with fear and hope.

Today, I invite you to reflect with me on a short verse from the Qur’an.
The Qur’an is not a book to be left on a shelf; it is a book to live by. It is our guide through life, like a map that shows us the way through all the tests, trials, and hardships, until we reach our final destination with Allah’s mercy.

So let us open our hearts and reflect on a verse that tells our story—a verse through which Allah speaks to each of us, here and now.

Allah describes our whole life in one short verse:
“Allah is the One Who created you in weakness.
Then after weakness He gave you strength.
Then after strength He made weakness and grey hair.
He creates whatever He wills.
And He alone is the All-Knowing, the All-Powerful.” (Qur’an: 30: 54)

In this single āyah, Allah gathers childhood, youth, adulthood, and old age.
What feels very long for us is, in His speech, a short journey.
We start weak.
Then we become strong.
Then we return to weakness again.

This verse is not a medical lesson.
It is a mirror.
Allah wants us to look at our lives and see a truth: we have always been in need of Him.
Every stage is a lesson.
Every stage teaches us something about ourselves and about our Lord.

First Stage: Hidden Weakness, Invisible Mercy

Our journey did not start in this world.
It began in the darkness of our mother’s womb.
At that time, no one saw us.
No one knew our name.
Our parents did not yet hold us in their arms.
We did not cry.
We did not speak.

But Allah already knew us.
He knew our face before anyone saw it.
He knew our voice before anyone heard it.
He knew our joys, our fears, our worries, our duʿā’s, and our tears.
He knew the exact day we would leave this world and return to Him.

Allah reminds us of this beginning:
“Has there not come upon man a period of time when he was not even something worth mentioning?” (Qur’an 76:1)

There was a time when we did not exist in people’s minds.
No one spoke about us.
No one expected us.
But Allah was already caring for us.

In that womb, we had no power.
We could not move by choice.
We could not feed ourselves.
We could not defend ourselves.
We could not ask for anything.
Yet everything we needed came to us before we asked.
Food came.
Air came.
Warmth came.
Safety surrounded us.

The Qur’an calls the womb “a secure resting place.”

It is calm.
It is safe.
The child does not fear the future.
The child does not fear hunger or cold.
The child simply rests.
Allah protects it from every side.

Even the word raḥim (womb) comes from the same root as raḥmah (mercy).
Our Prophet ﷺ told us in a sacred hadith that Allah named the womb after His Name al-Raḥmān.
This means our first home was wrapped in a sign of His Mercy.
Our story did not begin with our effort.
It began with His kindness.

We did not earn this care.
We did not deserve it through our deeds.
We did nothing.
Yet Allah gave us everything.
This is the foundation of our relationship with Him.
He gave before we could ask.
He loved before we could even know His Name.

Second Stage: Strength as a Test, Not a Trophy

Then Allah brought us out from that hidden place.
He taught us to breathe.
He taught us to suckle.
He taught us to cry so others would respond.
He surrounded us with a mother’s love and a father’s concern, and often with a whole family and community.

Slowly, He gave us strength.
We crawled.
We stood.
We walked.
We learned to speak.
We learned to think.
We learned to work and to plan.

In youth and adulthood, we feel strong.
We can work long hours.
We can lift heavy things.
We can travel where we like.
We can plan our careers, our families, and our futures.
Without noticing, a thought grows in our hearts: “I am in control.”

But the Qur’an reminds us: before we could stand, someone carried us.
Before we fed ourselves, someone fed us.
Before we could say a word, someone understood our cries.
Every scholar once could not speak.
Every leader once could not walk.
Every successful person once needed help just to roll over.

Remembering this protects us from pride.
It tells us: “You are not the maker of your own strength.
You are only a carrier of a gift.”
Our strength is not permanent.
It is a loan from Allah.

In this stage of strength, every blessing asks a question.
Health asks: “What will you do with me?”
Wealth asks: “Who will benefit from me?”
Knowledge asks: “Will you become more humble or more proud?”
Position asks: “Will you serve people or use them?”

So strength is not a trophy to show off.
It is a trust.
One day it will be taken back.
We will stand before Allah and answer: “What did you do with the strength I gave you?”

Third Stage: The Gentle Return to Weakness

Then, often without warning, another stage begins.
It starts with small changes.
The stairs feel steeper.
The letters in the mushaf look smaller.
We need more light to read.
Names we once remembered easily now come slowly.
The body that obeyed every command now asks us to slow down.
The legs that walked for hours now ask for rest.
The hands that held children now tremble when holding a cup of tea.

These changes come quietly.
We may ignore them at first.
Then one day we realise: we have entered another season of life.

Allah describes this, saying:
“Then after strength He made weakness and grey hair.”

Notice the wording.
Allah does not say, “You became weak,” as if it just happened by chance.
He says, “He made weakness.”
This means even this stage is under His control.
It is part of His wise plan.
It is not a mistake.
It is not a humiliation.
It is a chapter written by the same Lord who wrote our childhood and our youth.

In this stage, bodies weaken.
But hearts can become stronger.
Muscles shrink.
But faith can grow.
Memory slows.
But dhikr can increase.
Eyesight fades.
But insight can deepen.

There are strengths that never grow old.
They are the strengths of the heart:
Faith.
Hope.
Trust in Allah.
Love for Allah.
Good character.
Kindness.
Patience.

The body has its health.
The heart has its own health.
A body may be weak while the heart is alive and strong.
Many of Allah’s righteous servants found that their greatest spiritual growth came when their physical strength began to decline.
This is because they started to lean on Him more.
They began to see how fragile they really were.
They began to value what lasts and let go of what passes.

The Central Truth: We Have Never Been Independent

If we place these three stages side by side, one truth shines clearly.
We have never been independent.
Not for a single moment.

In the womb, we needed Allah.
In youth, we needed Allah.
In old age, we need Allah.
In every breath, in every heartbeat, in every thought, we need Him.

Modern culture praises the person who says, “I don’t need anyone.”
The Qur’an praises the person who knows: “I have always needed my Lord.”
Our need for Allah did not begin with sickness.
It did not begin with a crisis.
It did not begin with old age.
It began before our first breath.
It began even before our mothers knew they were carrying us.

This changes how we see life.
Our bodies are not just machines.
They are classrooms.
Each stage is a teacher.
Childhood teaches that Allah is the Provider.
Youth teaches that He is the Giver of strength.
Success teaches gratitude.
Failure teaches humility.
Old age teaches surrender.
Every breath teaches dependence.

As we conclude, let us take home three important lessons:

Lesson 1: Remember Your Beginning – Kill Arrogance, Grow Gratitude

The first practical lesson is to remember our beginning.
We began as a drop.
We began as something not even mentioned.
We began hidden, weak, and completely dependent.

When we remember this, arrogance dies.
We stop saying, “This is my doing.”
We start saying, “This is a blessing from Allah.”
We see our health, our careers, our knowledge, and our families as gifts, not as proofs of our greatness.

Practical actions:

• When you feel proud about a success, pause.
  Remember your earliest stages: the womb, infancy, your parents’ sacrifices.
  Let this memory soften your heart.
• When people praise you, say “Alḥamdu lillāh” in your heart.
  See every ability as a trust.
  See every achievement as a favour from Allah, not as your own creation.
• Teach your children and students this truth.
  Tell them: every scholar was once unable to speak.
  Every professional once could not walk.
  Make humility part of their upbringing.

When we remember that our lives started with pure mercy, our successes will lead us to shukr, not to pride.

Lesson 2: Use Your Strength Before It Fades – Serve, Don’t Just Consume

The second lesson is to use our current strength wisely.
Strength does not last.
Allah has already told us: after strength comes weakness and grey hair.

Whatever strength you have today is temporary.
Your health, your time, your position, your money, your energy—none of these will stay forever.
But how you use them will remain in your record.

Practical actions:

• Identify one strength you have right now.
  Is it physical health?
  Is it a good job?
  Is it knowledge?
  Is it time?
  Ask yourself: “Who benefits from this besides me and my immediate family?”
• Choose one clear act of service based on that strength.
  If you are healthy, maybe you visit an elderly neighbour weekly.
  If you have knowledge, maybe you teach a small ḥalaqah.
  If you have money, maybe you support a poor family regularly.
  If you have skills, maybe you volunteer them for the masjid.
• Protect your worship while you can.
  Pray your farḍ on time.
  Add a small but consistent extra act: two rakʿahs of ḍuḥā, or a few pages of Qur’an every day, or a set number of adhkār.
  Do it now, before the day comes when standing is difficult, or reading becomes hard.

Strength is a question from Allah.
Our daily actions are the answer.

Lesson 3: Honour Weakness – It Is a School of the Soul

The third lesson is to change how we view weakness.
Weakness is not shame.
Weakness is a school.

Allah Himself “makes” weakness after strength.
He does this with wisdom and mercy.
He wants to bring His servant closer.
He wants the servant to lean on Him again, like a child leaning on a parent.

Practical actions:

• If you are caring for aging parents or relatives, see their weakness as your opportunity.
  Remember the months your mother carried you “in weakness upon weakness.”
  Remember the nights your parents stayed awake while you slept.
  Serving them now is one of the shortest paths to Jannah.
• If you yourself are entering a stage of weakness, do not only count what you have lost.
  Count what you still have.
  You can still say “Subḥān Allāh, alḥamdu lillāh, Allāhu akbar.”
  You can still raise your hands in duʿā’.
  You can still smile.
  You can still forgive.
  You can still repent.
  These actions are dear to Allah and do not require a young body.
• As a community, honour elders and the vulnerable.
  Visit them.
  Ask for their duʿā’.
  Invite them.
  Make the masjid welcoming and comfortable for them.
  In this way, our masjid reflects something of the mercy with which Allah began all our lives.

When we honour weakness, we are not just being “nice.”
We are respecting a stage that Allah created.
We are respecting a chapter of life where many people reach their deepest faith.

Closing Reminder and Duʿā’

Our lives are a journey: weakness, then strength, then weakness again.
But behind all of this stands one unchanging Lord.
His knowledge does not increase or decrease.
His power does not rise or fall.
He is al-ʿAlīm, al-Qadīr.

He cared for us when we were hidden in the womb.
He cared for us in infancy.
He cared for us in youth.
He cares for us now.
He will care for us when our hands tremble and our steps slow.
We are not reading an abstract description of “human beings.”
We are reading our own story.

We ask Allah to make us among those who remember their beginning, who use their strength in His service, and who accept their return to weakness with faith and contentment.

Let us raise our hands in supplication:

O Allah, make every moment of our lives an increase in goodness, and when our time in this world has come to an end, let death be a gentle relief from every hardship and every evil.

O Allah, never leave us to ourselves—not even for the blink of an eye. Hold us by Your mercy, guide our hearts, and keep us steadfast upon Your path.

O Allah, inspire us to be truly grateful for Your countless blessings when we are strong and healthy, and grant us patience, contentment, and unwavering trust in You when we are tested with weakness and hardship.

O Allah, forgive our fathers and mothers, shower Your boundless mercy upon our teachers, elders, and all who guided us to You. Guide our youth to the straight path, protect them from every harm, and make our children and future generations righteous, faithful, and a source of lasting joy in this life and the next.

O Allah, bless us with a beautiful ending. Let our final moments be filled with faith, hope, and remembrance of You. Make the best day of our lives the day we stand before You, and take us to Yourself while You are fully pleased with us and we are blessed with Your everlasting mercy. Āmīn.