I want to know God’s thoughts. The rest are details.
~ Albert Einstein.
Its gone on for so long, Hunaid is cracking jokes.
Another friend shrugged their shoulders with a ‘well duh’ look. It was that obvious.
My parents seem to be taking it in their stride.
What is ‘it’?
My growing disillusionment with religion.
I’m floundering on the big picture questions. Why are we here? Where are we going? Why would I want to go there? Why the black and white divide of heaven and hell?
Who is God? How can he exist without being creation? What’s the point of creating if your an omnipotent, omniscient being? Why would such a being need our prayers? Why would he need or even want our acknowledgement?
Ten thousand questions like this. Questions popping into my head every day, wondering how I can live so strongly within the rules when I’m uncertain about so much.
I’m not the first person to ask these questions. I know that. And others have provided answers. I want answers from those inside my spiritual tradition. Those are denied to me.
Then there is the stuff that’s obviously wrong.
Religious teachers pushing geocentric models of the solar system. Not being able to explain how it worked, or why it was valid. Just asserting that it had to be accepted.
Except I’ve heard of Carl Sagan and read about Kepler, Copernicus and Galileo. I know what the orbit of a planet should look like from the earth in a geocentric model, and I know what they actually look like when charted in the night sky. They don’t match.
Religious teachers telling me with a straight face that physics hasn’t advanced from Aristotle, and that all things are made from the basic elements of air, fire, earth, and water.
Nobody wants to talk about Newton, Einstein or the Copenhagen Interpretation. No one with a clue where protons, neutrons, electrons, quarks and flavours fit into that Aristotelian model of the universe. As if nuclear weapons were built by compressing dirt and setting it on fire. As if 2000 years of progress doesn’t exist.
There are hard limits to the depth of my fall. So far anyway.
I don’t doubt there is a God. I don’t doubt my particular branch of Islam. I believe Maula is everything he says he is. I believe that without this muhabat and walayat for Maula I would have given up on religion all together.
Where does that leave me? For the moment, it leaves me with growing disillusionment.
It leaves me in a strange limbo: a faithful skeptic.
I have questions. I have no answers. Not even the prospect of answers. There’s no one to hear the questions.
I’m a thinking person. I trust my head. Whatever steps I’ve taken to modify and expand that, the intellectual is my primary way of approaching the world.
My religion must satisfy me on that plane to sustain me.
I’d like answers, clear answers that take a position. No hemming and hawing. No telling me that I’ve asked a very good question, but they can’t answer. Or worse yet vague handwringing answers that don’t address the question.
If you don’t answer, maybe it’s cause you can’t – you don’t have an answer. Maybe the imponderables are imponderable all the way up the food chain.
Maybe all this is just some form of social control. Another giant pyramid scheme of religion.
And I’m wasting my life playing to the Rules.