How an American left everything behind to become a Rumi disciple

For some people, faith deepens the beliefs they were born into. For others, it takes them on an unanticipated journey.

For Ismail Fenter, once Christened as Craig Victor Fenter, a Catholic priest from the United States, it led to the teachings of Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi in Konya.

“I feel Rumi summoned me here. His teachings shattered my heart, filling me with emotions beyond words,” Fenter tells TRT World. Fenter embraced Islam in 2006 after attending the annual Seb-i Arus ceremonies commemorating Rumi’s work.

Fenter was among thousands of people who converged in Konya in December to mark the ceremonies.

Becoming a Mevlevi dervish, Fenter adopted the name Ismail and now dedicates his life to sharing Rumi’s philosophy.

Before the conversion, a theological rift with Christianity began his spiritual quest.

“I was studying the Old Testament, and there was only one God. In the New Testament, it said something else, and I didn’t believe that. I left the church, and it was after that I found my way to Islam through Rumi.”

Transformative “Wishing Window”

Fenter’s transformation began in December 2005.

In the predawn chill of the Seb-i Arus commemoration, as he recalls vividly, Fenter found himself at the Niyaz Penceresi, or Wishing Window, near the tomb of Shams-e Tabrizi, Rumi’s spiritual companion.

“I wasn’t a Muslim yet, but I had learned enough about prayer to understand the Islamic way,” he recounts. He had been trying to learn about Islam in the US.

“Standing in a packed mosque while waiting for prayers, two men sat on either side of me,” he recalls. “One was Nadir Karnibuyuk, who became my sheikh. The other was Faruk Hemdem Celebi, the maqam Celebi of the Mevlevi order, who later became my Celebi.”

After the prayer, the Celebi led Fenter to the Wishing Window.

“It was freezing, snow on the ground. He showed me how to make dua, saying, ‘This is where we share our wishes with Mevlana.’”

Fenter approached the Wishing Window, unsure what to say.

“I just stood there, quietly and humbly,” he says. “Then it happened—I felt as though an arrow from Rumi shot into my heart. I was shocked and began to cry.”

"That moment changed everything. It was as if the universe aligned to begin my journey," he recalls.

In 2021, Fenter relocated permanently to Konya to deepen his practice and connection to Rumi’s legacy.

Now affiliated with the International Mevlana Foundation, Fenter teaches online classes on Masnavi, a collection of Rumi’s works, using a new English translation from Konya.

Every Friday at dawn, he instructs 40 students from diverse countries—including China, Canada, and Pakistan—creating an interfaith space for Muslims, Christians, and Jews.

Philosophy of unity and reflection

Fenter intertwines Rumi’s teachings with the essence of Islam, describing the Mevlevi path as one of surrender, service, and love.

“Rumi teaches that to change the world, we must first change ourselves,” he adds, framing his journey as a testament to Rumi’s timeless philosophy of unity and divine reflection.

“Rumi doesn’t just talk about love,” Fenter says. “When you immerse yourself in the Masnavi, you find wisdom that challenges and transforms you. This is where Mevlana speaks to me, whispering truths that pierce the heart.”

One metaphor that resonates with him is Rumi’s depiction of the nafs—the ego—as a stubborn donkey.

“Rumi says the ego is like a donkey,” he explains. “If you let it roam, it’ll wander off, eating weeds and getting drunk. It won’t do what you need it to do. You have to hold it by the neck and guide it firmly, even pulling it in the opposite direction when necessary.”

This metaphor isn’t just about control—it’s about understanding the delicate dance of discipline and surrender. It mirrors the challenges we face when taming our desires and aligning ourselves with a higher purpose.

Rumi’s teachings demand discipline and surrender, Fenter says. “The Mevlevi way isn’t for the faint-hearted. They say it’s like chewing burning nails. You must shrink the ego to its rightful size.”

Another of Mevlana’s metaphors deeply moved Fenter: the idea of becoming sugar.

“Rumi says, ‘If you want sugar, you must become sugar,’” he reflects. “It sounds sweet and simple, but it’s transformative. To become sugar means to dissolve, to let go of your ego entirely. You don’t disappear; you become heech—nothing—so others can see Allah’s light through you.”

For Fenter, this surrender is at the heart of the Mevlevi philosophy. “The Mevlevi way is about service, humility, and love. It’s about holding a mirror to your heart and doing the hard work of transformation so that love can enter.”

Fenter recounts another one of Rumi’s parables: “A man knocks on his beloved’s door. From inside, the beloved asks, ‘Who’s there?’ The man replies, ‘It’s me.’ The beloved says, ‘Go away. You’re not ready.’”

The man leaves, heartbroken. After a year of longing, he returns. When the beloved asks again, ‘Who’s there?’ the man says, ‘It’s you.’ And the beloved opens the door, saying, ‘Now, you may enter—for there is no room for two in this house.” “This,” Fenter explains, “is about dissolving the self and becoming one with the Divine.”

Fenter lets the lesson linger, the audience absorbing its weight.

“This story is about dissolving the self, erasing the boundaries of ego, and becoming one with the divine. It’s the essence of the Mevlevi way.”

He adds by tying Rumi’s teachings back to their roots in Islam.

“The Mevlevi way begins with Islam. It’s the path of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), the path that leads us to Allah. Rumi teaches us that if we want the world to change, we must first change ourselves.”

‘Whirling transcends words’

On Seb-i Arus, the ritual of whirling ascends to unparalleled spiritual heights. Sema, Fenter explains, embodies the soul’s final return to its source.

“Rumi invites us to experience this reunion,” he says, urging those on the path to “die before we die”—to release the ego’s grasp and surrender fully. This dissolution of the self, he explains, enables the pure, selfless love of Allah, or Ashkullah.

For Fenter, Sema is not merely an art form but a profound spiritual act.

“It transcends words,” he says, describing it as “a living metaphor for the soul’s journey.” In the ritual of whirling, Fenter sees transformation made tangible: the soul, rising from the dust of existence, becomes “a body of radiant light.”

“For all of creation is in motion,” Fenter reflects. “And so, we turn and turn and turn.” Yet he is quick to dismantle any notion of Sema as dance.

“It is Zikr Allah—a remembrance of Allah,” he insists. Each rotation is an invocation, with the dervishes whispering “Allah, Allah, Allah”. In this state, they open themselves fully, shedding ego and becoming conduits for divine blessings.

“We become nothing—heech,” Fenter says, his tone reverent, “and in that emptiness, we are filled with gifts to share with the world.”

As he reflects on his journey, Fenter offers a prayer: “Inshallah, may you come to know Mevlana, the way of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), and the way of Allah—the way of love.”

Fenter’s journey is not just one of self-discovery; it’s a reminder that love, transformation, and surrender are at the heart of what it means to be human.

“Rumi doesn’t just want us to understand love; he wants us to become love,” he concludes.