Muhammad’s marriage to Khadijah was the first major event in his life.

Which event from Muhammad’s life happened first? A quick question that often surprises people when they first hear the timeline.

Let’s set the scene

When we think about Muhammad, the founder of Islam, we usually imagine a single dramatic moment—the first revelation, or the day he left Mecca for Medina. Those are dramatic chapters, no doubt. But history isn’t built from a single page; it’s a sequence of moments that come before and after, each shaping what comes next. If you’re looking at a simple list like this:

• A. Marriage to Khadijah

• B. Migration to Medina

• C. First revelation from Angel Gabriel

• D. Death of Muhammad

The event that happened first is A: the marriage to Khadijah. This is the earliest event among the four, and it helps explain how Muhammad’s life and mission unfolded. Let me explain how these pieces fit together.

Khadijah: more than a name in a history book

Khadijah was not just any wife. She was a wealthy widow who ran a successful trading business in and around Mecca. Muhammad had worked for her as a trader, showing skill, integrity, and a calm judgment—that combination made her notice him and trust him. Their marriage happened when Muhammad was about 25 years old, well before the first revelation came to him.

This is important for a few reasons. First, it situates Muhammad in a social and economic world where long-distance trade connected different communities. That world valued reliability, honesty, and the ability to read people and markets—traits that Khadijah clearly appreciated in him. Second, the marriage provided a stable base in a city that was also a crossroads of competing ideas, clans, and traditions. In many ways, Khadijah’s support gave Muhammad space to think, learn, and grow. She wasn’t just a partner in life; she was a partner in the life he would lead as a religious and social reformer.

What comes after, and why it mattered

Now, the other three events—revelation, migration, and death—cluster in a later arc of Muhammad’s life.

• The first revelation from Angel Gabriel

Around the age of 40, Muhammad received the first revelation in the cave of Hira. This moment is often described as the beginning of Muhammad’s prophetic mission. Tradition holds that the angel Gabriel dictated or conveyed verses that would become part of the Qur’an. The first words, “Iqra” (often translated as “Read” or “Recite”), mark a shift from private contemplation and public trust to a public message that would guide millions.

• The Hijra to Medina

The migration to Medina, known as the Hijra, happened later, in 622 CE. This move wasn’t merely a change of home; it was a turning point in the early Muslim community. In Medina, Muhammad established a social and political order that brought together dispersed supporters, converts, and new alliances. It’s a reminder that religious leadership often needs a shared space—a community that can translate beliefs into daily life.

• The life and death in 632 CE

Muhammad’s life culminated in his passing in 632 CE. His death didn’t erase the work that began decades earlier; instead, it set in motion a continuity through successors and a growing and sprawling faith. In many ways, his life reads as a ladder: personal trust and social standing lay the groundwork for a transformative public mission, which then scales across generations and continents.

Why the order matters

So, why is it useful to know which event happened first? For one thing, it highlights how personal relationships and social standing can be the quiet engines behind big transformative movements. Muhammad’s marriage to Khadijah wasn’t glamorous in a cinematic sense; it was practical and stabilizing. It provided emotional and economic support at a crucial moment—when he would later begin receiving revelations and articulating a new social vision.

Think about this in modern terms: a student or a leader often needs a dependable partner—someone who believes in the project, handles the practical side, and keeps the day-to-day moving forward. Khadijah offered that kind of steadiness. Her wealth and influence gave Muhammad room to reflect, question, and articulate his experiences without being overwhelmed by immediate economic pressures. In religious history, that kind support can be the difference between a remarkable idea and a lasting movement.

A reminder about chronology in Studies of Religion

When you study topics like the life of Muhammad for Studies of Religion, keeping track of the order of events matters. It helps you see cause and effect, and it shows how beliefs, social structures, and personal relationships interact. The first major personal milestone (a stable marriage) set the stage for the later public mission. The first revelation then reframes what Muhammad is doing in his daily life, and eventually the community grows beyond Mecca through the Hijra. Each event builds on what came before, creating a coherent arc rather than isolated episodes.

A few thoughts to connect the dots

• Context matters. Mecca wasn’t just a place; it was a network of merchants, families, and competing loyalties. A stable home life could be the difference between someone who survives the pressures of early adulthood and someone who uses that time to prepare for a mission bigger than themselves.

• The personal becomes public. The marriage shows how personal trust and social capital can underpin monumental public work. This is a pattern you’ll see in many religious and philosophical traditions: mentors, sponsors, or spouses who enable a thinker to devote energy to a larger calling.

• The sequence helps in comparative study. If you’re comparing Muhammad’s life with other religious founders, you’ll notice that early life circumstances—the kinds of support people have, or don’t have—often shape how their messages emerge and spread.

A gentle detour: lessons that feel human, not distant

If you’re a student, you might wonder how to approach a history like this without getting lost in dates. The trick is to hold onto three threads at once: who people are, what happened to them, and why it mattered to others around them. You don’t need to memorize every year to appreciate the arc. But you do need to see how a person who lived a particular life ended up influencing a huge community years down the line.

From a scholarly angle, it’s also helpful to think about the sources you rely on. Traditional biographies, early Islamic texts, and later commentaries all contribute to a picture that’s layered, not flat. For Studies of Religion, it’s valuable to note where a account comes from, what it emphasizes, and how different communities reuse the same events to tell their own stories.

A practical, human takeaway

If you’re ever stuck trying to place events in the right order, try a simple mental map: start with the personal, then the moment of revelation, then the growth of a community. That order isn’t just historical—it mirrors how many lives unfold in the real world. First comes the support, then the turning point, then the broader impact. It’s not glamorous, but it’s deeply true.

Putting it all together

So, yes—the event that happened first among the options is Muhammad’s marriage to Khadijah. It’s the quiet, sturdy beginning that underpins later chapters—the first revelation, the migration, and eventually the long arc of his life and influence. In the big story, this early partnership doesn’t just sit at the margins; it helps shape the center.

If you’re exploring Studies of Religion with curiosity rather than just for a test score, this sequence becomes a lens. It invites you to see how human relationships, social structures, and spiritual experiences intertwine. It’s a reminder that history, at its best, feels like a conversation—between people, between ideas, and between the past and the world we live in today.

Final thought: the thread you carry forward

When you trace the timeline—from a trader’s marriage through revelations to a migratory turning point and beyond—you can sense how a life can evolve into a path that guides communities for centuries. The first step was personal and everyday and, in its own quiet way, monumental. And that’s a reminder worth carrying into any study of religion: meaning often begins with the people closest to us, not just the grand moments that seem to define eras.