In schools, when they teach Islam, they often go straight to the Five Pillars—like that’s the whole thing. And I get it, it’s neat. Categories help. Teachers can build lessons around them, tick boxes, keep it simple. But we’ve got to step back a bit—go one level higher—and really look at what we’re teaching.
Because when we just stick to the Five Pillars, it starts to feel like Islam is just a set of rituals. Acts of worship. Things Muslims do. You pray, you fast, you go to Makkah—that’s it. And yes, those are important, no doubt. They are signs of being Muslim. And to really understand that, we need to look at the Hadith of Jibril- And he asks the Prophet, “Tell me about Iman.” Then, “Tell me about Islam.” Then, “Tell me about Ihsan.” You’ve got Islam, Iman, and Ihsan. Three dimensions. Three layers to the believer. And the Prophet responds to each one.
For Iman, the core beliefs—the unseen, the angels, the books, the messengers, the Day of Judgement, the Qadr.
For Islam, he outlines the Five Pillars.
And for Ihsan, he says: it’s to worship Allah as though you see Him. And if you can’t see Him, know that He surely sees you.
Then the man asks about the Hour. And the Prophet (SAW) says: that knowledge is only with Allah.
Now scholars—from Imam al-Ghazali to many others—use this hadith to highlight those key dimensions of a believer. Islam is your outward practice. Iman is your inward belief. Ihsan is your spiritual excellence.
Some even add a fourth: signs of the Hour—your awareness of time, your role in this world, your accountability. We’ll touch on this in the end.
Imaan
Let’s focus on Iman for a moment. That’s your inner world. Your conviction. That deep-down belief that, yes, there is a Creator. That all of this didn’t just appear from nowhere. That there is meaning. That the One who created everything is Allah—Jalla Jalaluhu. And He is the One you turn to, the One you rely on.
It’s your spirituality. Your connection with Allah. And this is where the Quran comes in. Because the Quran builds that relationship. It speaks to your heart. When you read it, it reminds you, it grounds you, it reflects things back to you. Everyone finds different verses that speak to them. And that’s the beauty of it.
Now, not all of us can read Arabic well. So what do you do? You read the English translation. Or even better, you find a Quran reading class—not tafsir just yet—just reading. With a teacher who steps in when there’s something important to explain. Maybe it’s a verse where scholars differed, or a verse that’s easy to misread if you don’t have context.
Because here’s the thing—yes, the Quran is powerful, but it also carries rulings. And if you try to take it literally, verse by verse, without understanding the full picture, you might end up in a dangerous place. You might misinterpret things, go to extremes. That’s why the scholars are essential. That’s why tafsir is a whole science.
So this first dimension—Iman—it’s about asking yourself: what’s my relationship with Allah? Not just what I do, but what I believe.
And what that means is, when something big happens—like someone passes away—your understanding kicks in. The understanding from the Quran, like in Surah al-Baqarah, verse 156: “Indeed, we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we return.” That’s where your heart goes.
You still feel the loss. I mean, you’re human. You feel that emotional pull—that pain when someone close is gone. It’s like two things stuck together with Blu Tack, and when you pull them apart, there’s that moment of discomfort, right? It hurts. But you also know—deep down—you know that they’ve returned to Allah. That’s your perspective.
Whereas someone else, someone without that belief… they might be overwhelmed. They might believe the person just became dust. Or that they’ll never see them again. Or maybe something like reincarnation. There are all sorts of beliefs out there. But yours—it’s firm. That belief is what anchors you in moments like this.
And it’s not just death. It’s when someone can’t have children. When they’re struggling financially. Or even when they have too much wealth and don’t know what to do with it. Marital problems. Hardships. All of these test that relationship you have with Allah. That’s the first dimension. Not in terms of rulings or fatwas, but in terms of: how do you feel when things aren’t going your way?
Do you trust Allah? Do you return to the Quran? Do you look at the seerah and think, “You know what, the Prophet ﷺ went through trials too. How did he deal with them?” And through that, your Iman begins to solidify. It becomes something more than just words.
Because just saying the Shahadah isn’t the end—it’s the beginning. It’s the foundation. And like any foundation, if it’s not cemented, it won’t hold. If you just lay bricks with no mortar, the slightest breeze will knock it over. So you need to cement it. You need to strengthen it with understanding, reflection, experience.
And that’s what this recitation, this learning, this seeking—that’s what it does. It strengthens the first level of your faith.
Now imagine explaining Islam to someone. You don’t start with, “Muslims pray five times a day.” No. You say, “Muslims believe in a relationship with Allah. We believe in something greater. Something meaningful.” That’s where it starts.
And within this first dimension, you’ve got a whole spectrum. On one end, there’s someone who’s not even sure if God exists. They’ve gone full science route—evolution, Big Bang, 13 billion years. And look, it might make sense to them based on what they’ve seen, read, or been taught. But they haven’t necessarily questioned where it all started. Like, okay, the Big Bang—cool. But where did that come from?
If I told you this table just appeared out of nowhere, you’d look at me funny. A phone, a cup, a chair—none of that just pops into existence. It comes from somewhere. That’s what we know. And yet, some believe everything came from nothing. That’s something we’ve got to reflect on.
But see, when people are left to figure it out alone—or they follow one video, one podcast, one article—they can end up down a strange rabbit hole. You need balanced thinking. You need to weigh arguments, ask questions, listen to different voices.
Then you’ve got someone who does believe in a Creator. They know there must be something, someone who started it all. And this is where Islam enters. This is where the revelation guides us. We don’t just believe that there’s a Creator—we believe He is Allah. That’s the next step.
Then there’s someone who is Muslim. Maybe born into it. But they’ve never really had a relationship with their Lord. No real understanding. Just the label. Muslim by culture. Muslim by passport. A funeral prayer here, an Eid prayer there—that’s it.
So wherever you are on that spectrum, this first dimension matters. Whether you’re just starting to question things, or whether you’ve been Muslim all your life but never really felt it—it’s relevant. And it’s something we’ve all got to work on. Bit by bit. Brick by brick.
Islam
Now we come to the second dimension of the Hadith of Jibreel — the part where the angel says, “Tell me about Islam.”
You see, we often think of Islam as a religion — and that’s true. But here, the word Islam is being used to refer to something more specific. Something practical. Something embodied.
The word Islam itself means to surrender, to submit, and to give in — not out of weakness, but in pursuit of something higher. The root of the word carries the idea of achieving safety, stability, and ultimately peace (salaam). So, when someone lives as a Muslim — literally, “the one who surrenders” — they’re choosing to submit to the will of Allah in all aspects of life.
A Muslim says: “If Allah loves it, I love it. If Allah commands it, I do it. If Allah prohibits it, I stay away.” Not because I have to, but because I trust that His guidance is the path to true peace — within myself, in my family, in my community, and in the world.
And this is what makes the second dimension so powerful — it’s about doing. It’s about the outward practises that shape our daily lives and connect our inner beliefs to visible action.
So when Jibreel asked, “Tell me about Islam,” the Prophet ﷺ replied with the five pillars — we already mentioned saying the Shahadah isn’t the end—it’s the beginning. It’s repeated daily. It’s cemented.
And Salah is not just a ritual. It’s a daily reset. A five-times-a-day realignment. One of the meanings of the word Salah comes from the root meaning to straighten, to correct. So when we pray, it’s not just movement — it’s spiritual chiropractic for the soul. We’re setting ourselves straight again after being pulled in every direction by the world.
You wake up — and before you even begin your day on your own terms, you begin it with Allah’s name.
You end your day — not with Netflix, not with endless scrolling — but with Isha, with dhikr, with a final moment of connection. That’s the rhythm of a believer’s life.
And throughout the day — work, conversations, driving, errands — Salah interrupts the chaos. It brings us back. It says: “Pause. Reconnect. Refocus.”
And honestly, we probably need even more. It was originally 50 prayers a day before being brought down to five — and some of us still struggle. That just shows how forgetful we are, how easily we drift. That’s why this second dimension is so vital — because it’s a practical framework to keep us aligned.
But here’s the thing: these acts of worship aren’t just about you. They radiate outward.
Your Salah should affect how you treat your parents, your spouse, your children, your neighbours, your colleagues. If it doesn’t — then something’s missing. You’re doing the action, but not living the impact.
That’s why this second dimension is about societal transformation too.
When we fast together in Ramadan, it’s not just a personal detox. It’s a collective experience of discipline, empathy, and spiritual growth. Everyone’s trying. Everyone’s improving. So the vibe changes. The streets feel different. The homes feel different. You’re less likely to swear, argue, or harm others — because everyone’s in a spiritual mode.
It’s like recycling — you might think, “What’s the point if no one else is doing it?” But when everyone starts, it creates a new culture. That’s what Islamic practises do — they create an environment. A society that’s built on obedience to Allah, where goodness becomes easier and sin becomes harder.
Likewise Zakat and Hajj.
That’s the heart of this second dimension:
It’s the action of the believer.
The visible submission.
The communal framework.
The daily reminders that keep your soul on track.
And this is how some scholars differentiate Muslim from Mu’min.
Ihsan
Then we move on to the third dimension. This is basically the best of us — iḥsān — this elevation of something, where there’s a way of doing something, but iḥsān is doing it in the best of ways. It’s a heightened experience. So you’ve got īmān and islām — the inward and the outward — and then iḥsān is the way you externalise and manifest your belief and your islām.
The example specifically given in the hadith is when that worshipper is standing in prayer. His prayer is not just about standing in a direction and going through motions. He experiences that:
“I am now standing in front of my Lord. I see Him, and He sees me.”
This is what iḥsān is. Because you could stand in prayer without this consciousness, and your prayer would still be technically valid — you’d fulfil your obligation, and you’d get its benefits. But this level of worship is about elevation. It’s about presence. And even if you’re not at the level where you feel you’re standing in front of Allah and seeing Him — if you at least remind yourself and believe that He sees you, that alone changes your state.
Now imagine practising that. Living your life with that level of mindfulness. That when you’re standing in prayer, bowing, prostrating, Allah is watching. That’s iḥsān.
And then what you do is you carry that iḥsān mindset into everything. Whenever you listen to a lecture, attend a programme, hear advice — the question isn’t just what do I need to do, it’s how do I do it in the best of ways? What’s the iḥsān element?
And the way we learn this is by looking at the Sunnah — because the Prophet ﷺ was the best of people, the one who had the best conduct, the one who was the walking, talking Qur’an, and the one who embodied iḥsān. His life was graceful. His life was elegant. And that’s why it’s so important to really embody the Prophet ﷺ. Not just through naats and poetry, or symbolic praise, but by understanding his shamā’il — how he looked, how he dressed, how he slept, how he drank — his daily conduct.
Some might say, “Ah, but that’s just his personality,” or “those are small things,” or “we only need to copy the big things.” But no. That mindset misses the point. That’s a failure of understanding. A failure of knowing what Dīn is. It denies the essence of who he ﷺ was, not just to the companions, but to us today — those who don’t have his physical presence but rely on his example. And it’s through studying his life, through imitating his model, that we find iḥsān — that we start to elevate our religion and find excellence in it.
And what you find is that when you follow him, iḥsān starts to shape how you walk, how you live, how you speak. It’s your character. It’s your ethic. Just like in the workplace: you can do your job, clock in, clock out, and technically you’ve done your hours and fulfilled your contract. But then there’s that work ethic, where you go beyond — you’re sharp, punctual, committed. And your employer sees that. They recognise your value. That’s iḥsān — it’s doing your best even when you’re not being watched. It’s taking things to that next level.
So even something as seemingly simple as wudu becomes purposeful. You could wash your limbs once — that’s valid. But the Prophet ﷺ washed them three times. That’s excellence. That’s Ihsan. So now, next time you make wudu, you do it not because you have to, but because you want to follow the prophetic way, to draw closer to your Lord.
So imagine now — if in schools we were teaching this properly. “Tell me about Islam.” And the student breaks it down like this:
- Īmān — belief and understanding.
- Islām — actions and rituals.
- Iḥsān — character, conduct, and spirituality.
And they’re focusing not just on rules but on their spirituality, on personal development, on building character and self-esteem. Not just for themselves but to benefit their community. That’s how we define our religion. It’s not just the five pillars of Islām. It’s these three elements — islām, īmān, and iḥsān — the three dimensions of faith.
Akhira
I did mention earlier that some scholars identify a “fourth dimension” within the Hadith of Jibreel — and this part really comes from the final portion of the hadith: “Tell me about the Hour.”
Now, think about it — this wasn’t a random addition. The Prophet ﷺ told the companions afterward, “That was Jibreel. He came to teach you your religion.” So every single question he asked had purpose. It wasn’t just a quiz to test the Prophet ﷺ. He already knew who he was standing in front of. It was all for our benefit — to teach.
One that’s often described as eschatology — the study or awareness of the end of times. And the deeper purpose behind this question was not to pinpoint a date or predict the hour — because only Allah knows that —when Jibreel asked, “Tell me about the Hour,” and the Prophet ﷺ responded, “The one being asked does not know more than the one asking,” — the point is not when, but rather to awaken the mindset of the believer. We will meet our maker one day!
And so this fourth dimension is all about the Akhirah. About intentional living with the end in mind.
In practical terms, it means that every action, every choice, every thought — we ask ourselves two things:
- How is this benefitting my Dunya?
Am I doing this in a way that brings wellness to my life, health, family, or community? - How is this benefitting my Akhirah?
When I’m stood before Allah, being questioned about this action — will it help me or harm me? Will it weigh on my scales?
That’s the mindset shift this fourth dimension brings.
It gives depth to our daily acts — they’re no longer automatic or aimless. Now, they’re intentional, spiritual, meaningful.
And on a broader level, this fourth dimension includes the signs of the Hour — the trials and fitan (tribulations) that will come. From the Dajjal to Ya’juj and Ma’juj, the descent of ‘Isa (alayhis salam), and many other major and minor signs.
But the key question isn’t just “what will happen” — it’s how do we respond?
How do we stay firm in our deen when these trials appear?
What’s our Iman like in those moments? What’s our Islam look like?
That’s why this fourth dimension is so vital. It prepares the heart for what’s coming. It shapes our mindset. It connects the present to the eternal.
And unfortunately, today, when eschatology is brought up, it often becomes sensational — people get excited about the Dajjal and the beast and the spooky signs, right? But we miss the core lesson: your mindset.
Like the hadith says — even if the Hour begins and you’re planting a tree, finish planting it. What does that tell you? It’s not about panic. It’s about purpose.
So if the first three dimensions — Islam, Iman, and Ihsan — are in place, this fourth dimension becomes your anchor. It keeps you focused, purposeful, and prepared — in a world that’s full of distraction and doubt.
That’s the beauty of our deen — it teaches us how to live now, with the end in mind.
To conclude, to define Islam solely through the lens of the Five Pillars is to offer only a partial view — essential, yes, but incomplete.
It is a comprehensive way of life, grounded in surrender to the will of Allah. The word itself — Islam — means submission, surrender, yielding. It is the act of handing oneself over to Allah in totality: in belief, in action, in character, and in spirit.
To reduce Islam to a checklist of duties is to miss its heart. Islam is about living in harmony with divine will, seeking peace through submission, and transforming the self, the home, and society through that submission.
So let us teach Islam not as a list of what Muslims do, but as a vision of what a human being becomes — when they truly surrender to Allah.