My First Impression of the Qur'an

I just finished reading the Qur'an for the first time and now I'm excited to delve into the book deeper. I'm looking forward to identifying Islam's core values and claims and seeing how they stand up to scrutiny. I have a particular project in mind that I can't wait to get started on.

But before I put my nose back in the book, I want to share my immediate thoughts and impressions; keeping in mind that I am far from an expert on the subject, nor have I experienced the full Qur'an in its most powerful form: oral recitation in Arabic. For these reasons I'll keep my thoughts short and try to refrain from making a final judgement regarding the book's merits.

The first thing that struck me was how repetitious the book is. So many of the surahs (short chapters) contain exactly the same messages with almost identical wording. Reading the book there's a sense of "copy" and "paste" from one surah to the next, as though the vast majority of the Qur'an is derived from a select few original surahs. This may not be the least bit surprising to those who are well studied in the Qur'an, but for me it's a very interesting discovery. I have to wonder how much smaller the book would be if its messages were made only once. And I can imagine that a Qur'an distilled down to its essential meaning would be far more accessible to non-Muslims, particularly for the purpose of philosophical and critical analysis.

The Qur'an's most repeated versus have to do with the severe punishment awaiting nonbelievers in hell. The warnings Muhammad delivers time and time again to nonbelievers are almost always paired with the true believer's reward of a beautiful, eternal paradise. This juxtaposition reminds me of the "good cop, bad cop" tactic deployed by officers trying to extract a confession from a suspect. The Quran relies primarily on a kind of persuasion that is very similar in its simple, yet effective nature.

Fear and selfish desire are base level human emotions, and the Qur'an exploits them for all their worth (as opposed to, say, appealing to our reason and capacity for love). It does so through repetition, but also by graphic depictions of hell and the punishment awaiting nonbelievers. It describes heaven as a shady paradise set alongside flowing streams, where delicious fruit and never-ending adult beverages (with no ill side affects) will be served by stunningly beautiful young people. Wives do not seem to be in the picture (I may be wrong...); but this isn't a problem, as sexual satisfaction will be easy to obtain from any number of young virginal handmaidens who stand ready to fulfill believers' every wish.

Another strong impression I got from reading the Qur'an was the psychological profile of the author. To state the obvious, I'm not a trained profiler. But while reading the Qur'an, It felt as though Muhammad's personality shone through. It was in the way the book dwelled on the arrogance and evil of nonbelievers, and seemed to fantasize about their punishment. It was the rants of a personal nature; like the author complaining about pesky and loud worshipers, and bringing up specific events and interactions that seemed to particularly vex him. It was the way the author kept protesting the charges that he was mad or that the Qur'an was just ancient myths. It seemed to me that he protested too much. It was in the way he repeatedly dismissed the prosperity of nonbelievers as God simply doing what he willed to whomever he wanted. It was in the Qur'an's narrow focus and high repetition; just like a musical artist who writes a few great songs that people love and spends the rest of his career performing those same hits over and over again.

Another thing that intrigued me about the Qur'an is the way the author tries to preempt criticism, skepticism, and doubt. He declares that evil nonbelievers will say that the Quran is just a collection of fables and that the Prophet is crazy. He warns believers of befriending nonbelievers or allying themselves with them. He condemns doubt and any kind of half-belief. Only complete submission to Islam is will send adherents to paradise rather than hell.

They say the best defense is a good offense. To Muhammad's credit, he deploys one heck of an offense in his verbal attack against disbelievers and doubters. It reminds me of a politician responding to allegations of misdoing. His defense of the claim that God exists and that he is God's chosen messenger is, on the other hand, almost non-existent. The Prophet repeatedly states that simple facts of nature are clear evidence of God's power. God brings the rain and transforms barren land into green, flowering landscapes. God delivers wind that suspends birds in mid-air and allows ships to sail. He holds up the heavens and keeps the sky intact. He turns the day to night and the night to day. He makes the earth tremble. To Muhammad, any natural event is evidence of God. But it's the more mysterious (by 7th century standards) phenomena that the Prophet tends to list as the clearest, most indisputable evidence-evidence so strong you'd have to be blind and arrogant not to see it. The Qur'an also points to tales of destruction of entire cities and civilizations as evidence of God's power. As for Muhammad's claim to be a chosen messenger from God, the only reason or evidence provided is the Qur'an itself (who else could produce such an amazing scripture, the author asks) and the claim that there were other messengers sent before him (Moses, Abraham, Noah, etc).

I found the Qur'an's use of reason and evidence baffling. It provided insight into how modes of thought and degrees of understanding can vary wildly across cultures and time.

One reaction I had upon reading the Qur'an for the first time has to do with its objectionable or offensive content. Now I understand that as with the Old Testament we are dealing with text written in a very different time and place. Slavery, polygamy, bought wives, and so on were commonplace at the time. But it's difficult to reconcile the notion of best moral standards with cultural norms and divine law. I'll leave that challenge for another time. For now I'll simply say that there are elements of the Qur'an that I-a white, male American living in the year 2014-find objectionable. Elements like slavery, sex with slaves, arranged and bought marriages, inequality and oppression of women, violent imagery/language (cutting throats, hanging by ropes, dragging bodies, scalding, etc).

One final thought: If the Qur'an's content lacks reason and wisdom (I won't ultimately conclude that it does or doesn't until much farther down the line), what then is Islam? Is the Qur'an really just a tool for assimilation through recitations that tap into some deep emotional well that has its source in instinct and ancient cultural identity? Maybe or maybe not; but one thing is for certain-whatever Islam is, it matters a great deal for the world to discover it.

Does Religion's Authority Reign Supreme?

In my last post I argued that religion's unique combination of holy doctrine and absolute yet absent authority make it one of the world's most dangerous phenomena. I accused religion of a number of crimes against humanity; including the creation of social division that can lead to violent conflict, the cultivation of ignorance, as well as the infliction of immeasurable amounts of physical, mental, and intellectual harm. 

Are my charges overblown? I'm certain there's a case to be made that they are, and I'd love to hear it. But until a critic materializes and steps up to the plate, I'm forced to vet my own arguments. This will be the task I take up in this post.

I'll question whether its fair and accurate to characterize religion's inherent authority as "absolute". If this, my main premise, cannot be reasonably supported, then I have overstated the danger that religion represents. 

One fact that undermines the supremacy of religion's inherent authority is that most believers do not regard every word of their holy text as the literal truth or strict, heavenly command (some believers may claim to, but when they are are unfamiliar with the content of their own scriptures, their assertions do not count). 

Incidentally, when believers strictly adhere to the literal meaning of religious doctrine, we call them "fundamentalists"-a term that currently has a negative connotation in much of society, and rightly so. When fundamentalists overtly struggle against the prevailing social order, we call them "extremists". And when those extremists hurt innocent people for the purpose of instilling fear in others, they are called "terrorists". Isn't it interesting to see how the exalted notion of faith morphs into something abhorrent when religious devotion ratchets up a notch or two (granted, killing innocent people is not something 99.9% [or is it something closer to 80%....see surveys that ask Muslims whether it is right to kill apostates, homosexuals, infidels, etc...] of believers think their religions sanction. My point is not that it is; only that terrorist acts are, for some extremists, the ultimate demonstration of their devotion to a supreme authority (Allah))? On a related note, I'd love to read an essay from a "moderate" believer that explains why they they consider fundamentalism distasteful or wrong... 

For what its worth, the fact that so many Christians, for example, don't really believe that the universe was made in six days or that they are expected to obey all the commandments (the scores of even less sensible rules enumerated after The Ten Commandments...) is not likely a conscious choice on their part. Ever changing cultural forces certainly influence how believers treat their religious texts and teachings. As a result, some believers may have a looser relationship with doctrine while others maintain a more strict approach. Which begs the question: when there is so much disparity of conviction between believers, how "absolute" can religion's inherent authority be? 

The challenges religion faces in its attempt to guide (or command) adherents on the path of righteousness is further complicated by the often unclear, cryptic, and contradictory nature of holy doctrine. Scripture that is open to interpretation also stands as a significant barrier between religion's inherent authority (God) and its mission to influence, guide, or subjugate its adherents. Complicating things further is the fact that all doctrine was originally written and recited in one specific language. How much meaning and power is lost when scripture is translated from its original tongue to another? Making sense of holy doctrine is a challenge that can be partially surmounted through strong religious leadership; but for most believers, its an ever-present barrier in their effort to do God's will.  

Even if someone believed with all her heart that holy teachings came directly from God; and even if she had no trouble understanding those teachings, it's not a foregone conclusion that she will act in precise, complete adherence. Most believers are simply not that disciplined or devoted. How absolute can any authority be when large numbers of its subjects willingly fall so far short of perfection? 

Another limitation to religion's inherent authority is the fact that doctrine does not provide an answer to every problem believers face in their daily lives (though personal prayer can be adopted in lieu of careful decision making in almost any situation). Certainly some cults and fundamentalist sects have attempted to control every aspect of their followers' lives; but most creeds do not go so far, nor do they try to. Instead, they uphold a list of core commandments or principals that all believers are expected to abide by. Most creeds simply establish obligations, expectations, guidance, and support to help believers stay on the path of righteousness. Their lax treatment of God's will does not serve the claim of his superiority, nor does it lend an appropriate sense of importance to the notion that there are eternal consequences to our earthly decisions. 

And again, how absolute can God's authority be if indiscretion is not actively punished? Only in fundamentalists sects do we find overt compulsion in the form of the physical punishment of sinners. Religion in the modern age has handed over most of its punitive role to government. It still has its threat of eternal consequences; it still has its promises and other psychological/emotional rewards, but religion's teeth are not as sharp as they used to be.

Thus far, we find the concept of absolute authority represented by God eroded by a lack of devotion from believers, religion's limited punitive powers, moderate religion, and inescapable flaws in religious doctrine (including the problems of open-ended interpretation, imperfect translations, incompleteness, false truth claims, out-dated moral codes, and outright bad instruction). 

The next topic that ought to be addressed in our effort to correctly judge the threat of religion's inherent supreme authority is free will.

According to religious apologists; by design or by choice God limits his power and control over us by giving us the freedom to think for ourselves, make our own choices, and do as we wish. In exchange for this privilege, we become solely responsible for our actions. If this claim is true, then the authority that lies at the heart of religious doctrine appears to be something less than absolute. It would mean that instead of considering God an all-controlling creator and ruler, we'd be more correct to think of him as a referee in a game of eternal salvation. He may watch our every move, but for all intents and purposes, the ball is in our court. 

If we accept the premise that we are truly free and responsible for our own fates (we are not required to do this of course-free will is something of an enigma in both science and philosophy), the belief that an omnipotent, omniscient, eternal creator who has a purpose for us does not just go away or lose its power. For those who believe, religion's core idea still places an unseen, supreme being in a position of preeminence above all other earthly authorities. Religion still convinces adherents that their personal desires, purposes, and knowledge are secondary to those espoused by religious authority. And if we have free will, we can still choose to give it up through submission to religious doctrine. I have already discussed in great length how such submission produces so much harm and danger. 

Free will be damned-we are impressionable creatures who are vulnerable to trumped up claims of power and truth. We do not live in a vacuum, nor are we powerful enough to properly assess and resist external influences. History is haunted by the terrible consequences of willing submission to supreme leaders. 

Whatever freedom we have to decide our own fates is matched by our desire to commit our lives to something greater than ourselves. Religion not only provides something greater; it claims to offer the greatest, the ultimate, and the final cause-this is one thing that sets it apart from other causes. God's alleged gift of freedom on Earth does not rid humanity of the temptation, compulsion, or the dangers of religion's siren song.  

The concept of free will in theology softens God's image-its like a good PR move. It leads us to think of God as a wise father or fair referee instead of an all-controlling creator/dictator. And it helps God shake off responsibility for all the bad stuff that happens in the world he created. But what the concept of free will really succeeds in doing is winning highly devoted religious converts. 

The most devout believers are those who image themselves loved by God because of their decision to sacrifice every personal desire in order to do his will. Because they believe they willingly chose to worship God (instead of being somehow forced to); their love for him is stronger, and their conviction greater (piety can disguise an acute narcissism). This kind of devotion is what every good dictator dreams of. The reality or illusion of free will strengthens religion's unseen, supreme authority; and, in the end, only serves to make religion a more dangerous phenomenon. 

The concept of free will not only helps religion win the perfect subjects, it helps maintain them. If a believer can be convinced that he is 100% responsible for every bad decision he makes, then the natural guilt he feels will draw him closer to the source of redemption: religion. (I would hope that an intelligent person would understand that all people make mistakes, and that conditions outside our control sometimes lead us to do the wrong things; but that ultimately it is up to us to forgive ourselves, to learn from our mistakes, and to better ourselves.) Some religions like Catholicism have made a kind of trade out of sin and believers' guilt. They tell believers that they are born sinners, or that every bad decision they make is the result of their evil intent, or that bad things that happen to them are somehow their own fault. Like dealers giving drugs to children, religions sow guilt. Then, in essence, they set up stalls to collect some form of payment from distressed adherents. Payment can be actual money, alms, senseless recitations, and so on. Almost always, payment for guilt involves the recommitment and strengthening of religious loyalties. Believers stay within the comforting embrace of their religion while the church becomes richer. The whole scheme is all the more sinister when we consider the fact that so much of what religion deems sinful are completely natural desires and impulses.  

The fact remains that religion seeks to be the choice we make. Religion is not really interested in our freedom. It first wants to convince us of it's primary truth claims-that a god(s) exists, that he/she/it has a purpose for us, that the religion is the chosen means of communicating the divine will to humanity, and that it alone holds the key to eternal happiness and salvation. Once someone chooses to accept these claims, her freedom will shrink dramatically to fit within the confines of her religious doctrine. God forbid someday her religion asks her to make even greater sacrifices-like her dignity, moral sensibility, or even her life.

There are still more problems with the argument that free will undermines my assertion that religion harbors a dangerous kind of absolute authority. Trying to support such an argument becomes awkward and difficult when the subject of hell enters into the discussion. Major religions claim that eternal torment awaits those of us who have squandered that wonderful gift of freedom by not "accepting" God or submitting to his rules and guidance. There is no softening the absolute cruelty of this idea, or the absurdity of the concept's juxtaposition with the claim that we are God's beloved creation. God made humans so we would choose to love him-if we don't, we'll BURN FOREVER. Great plan.

In spite of the modern evolution of religion; the concepts of eternal reward or punishment make the claim that we are totally free to choose seem quite ridiculous. What believer would refuse to submit to religion's dictates when faced with the ultimate reward or punishment? And if a supposedly free individual accepts the claim that the perfectly good, all-powerful God exists, how could he then choose to not obey him? 

Apparently, free will is not so free. When we contemplate the topic, more questions-more problems-keep arising.

If we are all equally free to choose to believe, why do people usually adopt the religion of their parents or their nation? If God gave us free will for a reason, why do religions make such a strong effort to indoctrinate children at an early age, before they have a chance to exercise their god-given free will? What of nations that do not offer religious freedom? What chance do their citizens have to come to God? What is God's contingency plan for these poor souls?

I knew it was dangerous to bring free will into the discussion as the topic opens up a huge can of worms. Philosophers and scientists have struggled with it for millenia. I think its rather arrogant of religious apologists to insist that free will clearly exists and that divine justice is perfect. 

I for one am not certain that our choices are so freely made. But I do feel confident that by believing religions' claims we are limiting our freedom and making ourselves vulnerable to the harmful and dangerous consequences of putting religious doctrine above all other interests and consideratinos. I think most people know this, even if its not in the forefront of their minds. This is one reason religious moderation is currently the norm (with several major exceptions in many parts of the world). Thankfully, religious authority is further kept in check by all the flaws inherent in its doctrine and practice. And while our minds can easily be won over by false claims that appeal to our natural emotions, we still have the strength to resist fundamentalism and question claims of divine authority. That strength lies in our intelligence, love for one another, and our innate sense of what is good and what is right. The crown of absolute authority that religion wears is not enough to conquer the human spirit.

Well, it looks like the case I tried to build against my assertion that religion harbors a dangerous kind of absolute authority turned into another tirade against religion. But hopefully I was able to give due consideration to some obvious objections, and hopefully I dealt with them fairly enough. If, dear reader, I failed to do so, I look forward to hearing from you.