Religion was not shoved down my throat growing-up; thankfully. I grew up nominally as a Muslim, but as I aged and gained cognitive independence — I sought more questions than I was able to find answers for when it came to God. Even at a young age, I was innately spiritual. But, to say that my path to embracing organized religion was sinuous is the understatement of the century.
Through religious discourse, human beings are indoctrinated to believe that questioning is equivalent to doubting; as opposed to understanding. I’ve watched close friends from various faiths and backgrounds struggle with this — not just myself.
Through my own processing; I have settled into an Utilitarian approach when it comes to religion. It is a means to an end — a tool I use to maintain my relationship with God. I don’t get bogged down in the details because ‘the devil is in the details.’ I’ve lived across various cultures enough to recognize that, when it comes to any religion, people lose sight of the forest for — not the trees — but the one twig sitting in the back row of the furthest corner branch. This approach is not only daunting but off-putting to those of us trying to make heads or tails of life and anchor our moral compass.
Undergrad is when I finally started to gain the space and intellectual curiosity to rhetorically ask questions and seek my own answers about religion. I’m an all or nothing kind of gal, so I wasn’t about to order from theology’s a la carte menu when I innately understood that the road to satiation was paved by eating the set courses. In order to do that though, I needed to know the ingredients of all the dishes, so to speak, especially the ones difficult for me to palette.
Admittedly, I struggled to understand different aspects of Islam. After doing extensive research, I reconciled answers that I could cerebrally digest because they made practical sense — not necessarily because I agreed. Take for example, inheritance: men are bequeathed half, whereas women obtain one fourth, because, back in the day, men were primarily the providers, leaving any earnings that women gained stash-able for investments, the trusty bra bank, or a shoebox under the bed. Nowadays though, given cost of living around the world or access to education and employment (compared to 7th century AD); women are essential contributors to household incomes. Yet, according to Islamic Law, women still only receive one fourth of inheritance. One could argue that the spirit of the law, as opposed to its letter, was tipping the scales in favor of — not necessarily men — but the presumed expense bearer…
I certainly can’t speak for Islam — John Esposito snagged that spot. And, although I studied Islamic Law — alas, I am no Mufti. I am, however, an individual with questions living out my faith. After years of digging, observing, and contemplating, as Spandau Ballet put it — I know this much is true: there is a difference between the essence behind the doctrine versus its practical application.
But beyond this, there is an even more critical piece to the existential puzzle.
The advents of various religions didn’t happen in a vacuum — they took place in the midst of: histories colliding, war, death and destruction, empires’ expansions, communities forming, economic disparity — basically, life’s timeline marching forward on this earthly plain. What makes religion timeless, in many ways, is that history repeats itself. Meaning, the temporal aspects of religion are what make it so relevant, yet it is these very elements that get discarded in its present practice.
I’m grateful for my graduate school professors who objectively, but respectfully, taught Islamic history. In grad school, we didn’t just study history (thank you Marshall G. S. Hodgson for your works, “The Ventures of Islam:” Volumes I, II, and even III — although V. III doesn’t get much love); we assessed how the history of its history was compiled, i.e., the historiography. We dissected the entire spectrum of Islamic literature. I literally read the primary sources, such as the Holy Qur’an and vetted Hadiths, all the way through to scholars who posited that the Prophet Mohammed (Peace Be Upon Him) was a self-aggrandized poet who produced nothing more than an epic poem and managed to promulgate “his” work through scribes and oral tradition (think of the game, ‘Telephone’). On those days; I left class with R.E.M.’s classic, “Losing My Religion” running through my head…
The irony is that after deconstructing my belief system, probing, understanding other perspectives and then piecing everything back together — my faith actually strengthened. But, I had to start by asking questions. I can’t digest, embrace, and ultimately practice through force-fed rote learning. We are humans with discerning, cognitive capabilities — not bots.
Moral of the story: ask questions — not out of cynicism but for comprehension, and ultimately, to keep the faith.