picture, however, was nowhere to be found except in my own mind. I pictured a perfect Islam; so all those absurdities did not bother me because I paid no attention to them. When I read the whole Qur’an, I discovered a distinctly different picture than the one in my mind. The new picture ofIslam emerging from the pages of the Qur’an was violent, intolerant, irrational, arrogant; a far cry from Islam as a religion of peace, equality, and tolerance.
In the face of this much absurdity, I had to deny it to keep my sanity. Nevertheless, how long could I keep denying the truth when it was out like the sun right in front of me? I was reading the Qur’an in Arabic so I could not blame a bad translation. Later I read other translations. I realized many translations in English are not entirely reliable. The translators had tried very hard to hide the inhumanity and the violence in the Qur’an by twisting the words and adding their own words sometimes in parenthesis or brackets to soften its harsh tone. The Arabic Qur’an is more shocking than its English translations.
I was confused and I did not know where to turn. My faith had been shaken and my world had crumbled. I could no longer deny what I was reading. However, I could not accept the possibility that this was all a huge lie. How could it be, I kept asking myself, that so many people have not seen the truth and I could see it? How could great seers like Jalaleddin Rumi not see that Mohammad was an impostor and that the Qur’an is a hoax, and I see it? It was then that I entered the stage of guilt.
The guilt lasted for many months. I hated myself for having these thoughts. I felt God was testing my faith. I felt ashamed. I spoke with learned people whom I trusted, people who were not only knowledgeable but whom I thought were wise. I heard very little that could quench the burning fire within me. One of these learned men told me not to read the Qur’an for a while. He told me to pray and read only books that would strengthen my faith. I did that, but it did not help. The thoughts about the absurd, sometimes ruthless, ridiculous verses of the Qur’an kept throbbing in my head. Each time I looked at my bookshelf and saw that book, I felt pain. I took it and hid it behind the other books. I thought if I did not think about it for a while, my negative thoughts would go away and I would regain my faith once again. They didn’t go away. I denied as much as I could, until I could no longer. I was shocked, confused, felt guilty, and it was painful.
This period of guilt lasted too long. One day I decided enough is enough. I told myself that it is not my fault. I am not going to carry this guilt forever, thinking about things that make no sense to me. If God gave me a brain, it is because he wants me to use it. If what I perceive as right and wrong is skewed, then it is not my fault.
He tells me killing is bad and I know it is bad because I do not want to be killed. Then why did his messenger kill so many innocent people and order his followers to kill those who do not believe? If rape is bad, and I know it is bad because I do not want it to happen to people I love, why did Allah’s Prophet rape the women he captured in war? If slavery is bad, and I know it is bad because I hate to lose my freedom and become a slave, why has the Prophet of God enslaved so many people and made himself rich by selling them? If imposition of religion is bad, and I know that it is bad because I do not like another person to force on me a religion that I don’t want, then why did the Prophet eulogize jihad and exhort his followers to kill unbelievers, take their booty, and distribute their women and children as spoils of war? If God tells me something is good, and I know that it is good because it feels good to me, then why did his Prophet do the opposite of that thing?
When this guilt was lifted off my shoulders, dismay, disillusionment, or cynicism followed. I felt sorry for having wasted so
In the face of this much absurdity, I had to deny it to keep my sanity. Nevertheless, how long could I keep denying the truth when it was out like the sun right in front of me? I was reading the Qur’an in Arabic so I could not blame a bad translation. Later I read other translations. I realized many translations in English are not entirely reliable. The translators had tried very hard to hide the inhumanity and the violence in the Qur’an by twisting the words and adding their own words sometimes in parenthesis or brackets to soften its harsh tone. The Arabic Qur’an is more shocking than its English translations.
I was confused and I did not know where to turn. My faith had been shaken and my world had crumbled. I could no longer deny what I was reading. However, I could not accept the possibility that this was all a huge lie. How could it be, I kept asking myself, that so many people have not seen the truth and I could see it? How could great seers like Jalaleddin Rumi not see that Mohammad was an impostor and that the Qur’an is a hoax, and I see it? It was then that I entered the stage of guilt.
The guilt lasted for many months. I hated myself for having these thoughts. I felt God was testing my faith. I felt ashamed. I spoke with learned people whom I trusted, people who were not only knowledgeable but whom I thought were wise. I heard very little that could quench the burning fire within me. One of these learned men told me not to read the Qur’an for a while. He told me to pray and read only books that would strengthen my faith. I did that, but it did not help. The thoughts about the absurd, sometimes ruthless, ridiculous verses of the Qur’an kept throbbing in my head. Each time I looked at my bookshelf and saw that book, I felt pain. I took it and hid it behind the other books. I thought if I did not think about it for a while, my negative thoughts would go away and I would regain my faith once again. They didn’t go away. I denied as much as I could, until I could no longer. I was shocked, confused, felt guilty, and it was painful.
This period of guilt lasted too long. One day I decided enough is enough. I told myself that it is not my fault. I am not going to carry this guilt forever, thinking about things that make no sense to me. If God gave me a brain, it is because he wants me to use it. If what I perceive as right and wrong is skewed, then it is not my fault.
He tells me killing is bad and I know it is bad because I do not want to be killed. Then why did his messenger kill so many innocent people and order his followers to kill those who do not believe? If rape is bad, and I know it is bad because I do not want it to happen to people I love, why did Allah’s Prophet rape the women he captured in war? If slavery is bad, and I know it is bad because I hate to lose my freedom and become a slave, why has the Prophet of God enslaved so many people and made himself rich by selling them? If imposition of religion is bad, and I know that it is bad because I do not like another person to force on me a religion that I don’t want, then why did the Prophet eulogize jihad and exhort his followers to kill unbelievers, take their booty, and distribute their women and children as spoils of war? If God tells me something is good, and I know that it is good because it feels good to me, then why did his Prophet do the opposite of that thing?
When this guilt was lifted off my shoulders, dismay, disillusionment, or cynicism followed. I felt sorry for having wasted so
Similar Books
