Couldn't go on believing

As of Saturday evening, May 2, I pretty much officially stopped calling myself a "Muslim." The last prayer I prayed was Dhuhr, earlier that day. Before then, I had already been struggling a lot with lots of doubts about the practices and beliefs of Islam and whether or not I found them plausible and meaningful to me and my life. (Here is an earlier post about some of my doubts and concerns.) Yet, I continued to do the prayers and follow the rules, in spite of my doubts and misgivings. You could say I was being a "trooper." At the same time, though, I kept thinking "What am I doing?" and "This isn't right!" There were many things I simply could not reconcile with my sense of reason and rationality or with my internal moral compass:

***I cannot see value in performing a specific number of prayers in a specific way, at specific times of day, in a language I don't even understand (aside from knowing in the back of my mind what the Arabic words mean). It certainly doesn't help me grow closer to God, nor could it possibly honor Him if my heart is not in it. I'd be doing much better to pray in my own language, when and how I am moved by the spirit to do so, from the heart.

***The other pillars also seem a bit hokey to me. Zakat (charity) makes sense, but not if it entails trying to figure out a specific dollar amount; the amount I donate should be based on my own reasoning and the dictates of my conscience. For many people, fasting can be a deep and transformative spirtual experience with many benefits; for me, it is none of those, and I'd do better to seek the same benefits through alternative means. Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca, seems like an enjoyable and transformative experience; or, rather, it would be, if it did not consist of a bunch of predetermined scripted movements, if I could do it in my own way at whatever time of year was the most appropriate for me.

***Can I see Muhammad as a holy man, a moral exemplar, and an inspirational figure? Sure. But I cannot see him as being sinless; as being worthy of recognition above and beyond other equally great historical figures (e.g., Buddha); or as having any ultimate authority or "the last word." Furthermore, he did a number of things that were just plain wrong, such as the massacre of hundreds of men from the Banu Qurayza tribe; whatever the tribe may have been guilty of, such a reaction by Muhammad violates my most basic moral principles.

***I cannot regard the harsher punishments (stoning for adultery, amputation for stealing, lashing for premarital sex, etc.) as anything other than barbaric and unjust. Adultery calls for couples counseling and/or divorce, not execution! Stealing calls for fines or jail, not amputating a part of the body! I'm aware of the reasoning behind it and the stringent standards of evidence, but none of that makes it at all justifiable or morally or ethically acceptable. Even if the standards of evidence were so stringent that there was only a 0.00001% chance of someone actually receiving one of those barbaric punishments, that 0.00001% would still be too much!

***I cannot buy into the idea of the Qur'an as the perfect word of God. Yes, there is a lot in it that's praiseworthy. Yes, it sounds nice when recited by a trained reciter. Does that make it divine? Not really. Besides, there is a lot in there that is problematic. For example, the verses about beating wives and fighting disbelievers. Granted, those are not as bad once placed into context and supplemented with Prophetic sayings that clarify their meaning. Still, those verses are used to justify atrocities against women, non-Muslims, dissident Muslims, etc.; would an omniscient God not be aware of how his verses could be misused and would, therefore, an omnipotent God not be able to phrase them so carefully that misuse would be impossible?

***One refrain I hear repeatedly from Muslims is that Islam is a complete way of life. For me, that is precisely one of the religion's biggest problems. I don't need every aspect of my life to be micro-managed. Maybe some people really do need a rule-book to tell them how to pray, exactly how much to donate to charity, what to eat, what hand to eat with, what to wear, who to associate with, how to wipe after taking a dump, etc. etc. If so, then more power to them. For me, anything that goes beyond basic theological notions and simple moral and ethical principles is excessive and needless.

***I cannot accept rules that I find senseless and irrational, such as prohibiting the consumption of pork and alcohol. Even if one can make the case that they are harmful, unhealthy, etc., that does not make it a moral/ethical issue, nor does it justify any actual prohibition.

***This world (the dunya) and the hereafter. How many Friday sermons have I heard, where the speaker stresses the importance of focusing on the hereafter rather than this life? (So that we don't break the rules and end up in Hell, of course!) So, let me get this straight. Even though we are stuck in this life for as long as 70+ years, even though this life is the only life we are familiar with and can concretely imagine and conceptualize, we are supposed to focus instead on a phase and state of being (the hereafter) that completely defies our reason and our imaginations? Even though this world is the only one that is real or meaningful to us, we are supposed to focus on one so unreal? And, if we fail at that, we deserve eternal punishment? Yeah, that makes a LOT of sense! -sarcasm-

***I cannot buy the notion that Islam is somehow "complete" and therefore renders other traditions obsolete. As I stated in a blog post talking about entering Islam, there are many aspects of the religion that I find very praiseworthy. However, I also feel like Islam (like any other tradition) is far from complete and that its adherents could learn a lot from other traditions (Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, paganism, etc.).

As I type all of that, as extensive as it is, I feel like it is still insufficient to accurately capture all the concerns, doubts, and misgivings that made it impossible for me to continue calling myself a "Muslim" or to continue adhering to the practices. There are so many more. The funny part is, none of it has to do with homosexuality. One might have assumed that, if I were gonna abandon Islam at all, it would be over that issue. However, the truth is, while I reconciled the Islam/homosexuality issue, it turned out there were many other issues I had not reconciled in the past and could not reconcile now. Thus, on Saturday, May 2, after having prayed Dhuhr earlier in the day, instead of praying `Asr, I took a walk.

I went on a walk around a large lake and contemplated what, exactly, I truly believe (or don't believe) to begin with. What I figured out during that walk was pretty amazing. My only regret is that I didn't write the stuff down as I was thinking it, so I'm stuck trying to recall a lot of it from memory. (That often happens to me; I have wonderful, deep thoughts...and then forget them!) Basically, what I realized is that I am modern, Western, and secular, at heart. I am a believer in science and reason and a skeptic of faith, tradition, and anything else that cannot be justified with respect to evidence and logical arguments; plus, as I once said years ago, I have little use for gods, spirits, and spooks. This is not to say I do not believe in God or care for spirituality; nothing could be further from the truth. It's just that I now realize that, if I am to believe in something, it must be reasonable to me, compatible with my
conscience, and meaningful to me, and it should make sense in terms of the realities of my life. I realize that my personal belief system must come from within: When deciding what to believe, my reason and my conscience must be the final arbiters, not religions, books, traditions, or so-called "authorities." I can borrow and learn from other traditions without embracing them wholesale.

This, of course, leaves the question of how I ended up in Islam in the first place. Ultimately, what I think happened was that I was drawn in by the various praiseworthy aspects and aesthetic dimensions (e.g., Qur'an recitation) and my admiration of other Muslims. That, and there was also the concern that, just maybe, Islam (not Christianity) was the true religion all along, or is it Christianity? It became largely a question of whether I was more afraid of Christian Hell or Muslim Hell. All this led to me feeling like I should be a part of Islam. All that was left, as far as I knew was to reconcile it with my sexual orientation, which came to me fairly easily, so I ended up rationalizing or ignoring other problematic elements like those I listed above. I think I believed in it because I wanted to believe in it. And I did, from October 2006 to May 2, 2009. I took joy in the parts that I liked and tried to find ways to be
at peace with the parts that I did not like. I enjoyed the Muslim community and convinced myself that the practices and rules I didn't really care for were for my own good. For about 2.5 years, I did the whole Islam thing. Until I could no longer believe.

Then, I have to wonder, why was I brought into Islam for these two and a half years, to begin with? There have been substantial benefits from it. I became more conscientious about my relationship with God. I met some wonderful friends...and even fell in love with someone! (A cute Palestinian boy who, sadly for me, is graduating this month and who I won't see again.) I learned to be honest with myself about some issues that I had with Christianity (e.g., the idea of "original sin"). I realized that I can commit to something and stick with it. What I'm thinking is this: Islam was brought into my life in order to teach me a lesson about being self-aware of what I believe and why I believe it, as well as the importance of thinking outside the box of tradition and familiarity. Specifically, the Abrahamic box. After all, I could never be Christian again, or Jewish, either, simply because those traditions also have stuff that I cannot accept
("original sin," the violence in the Old Testament, etc.). I must be willing to conceptualize God and connect with Him outside of the language, frameworks, and worldviews of the Abrahamic traditions. I must be able to form my own relationship with God, on my own terms, as He made me, specifically. This also means being open to wisdom from other traditions, as well. After all, many of these were developing at the same time as the Abrahamic ones, and surely, all were products of their times and places. It's easy to say "No, no, ours has nothing to do with time or place because it came directly from God!" To me, however, that just smacks of a cop-out.

Of course, I have no intention of badmouthing Islam or any other religion. I have no desire to join the ranks of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Ibn Warraq, Nonie Darwish, and their likes. As I said before, I think Islam and its sister faiths (Judaism and Christianity) have many praiseworthy aspects and are probably very beneficial to the lives of most of their adherents. Some benefit from the traditions and stay within them. Some do not benefit with them but stay out of social pressure or, in the case of Islam, fear for their lives. Some do not benefit and make the choice either to leave or to stay behind and work for reform. I retain my esteem for Muslims, Christians, and Jews (along with other religions) and will continue to do so. I'll simply be connecting with God in my own way.

Admittedly, not practicing Islam feels strange after two and a half years of practicing. At first, it felt weird not praying, not getting up for Fajr, having a drink with my friends, or getting bacon on a sandwich. At the same time, it feels natural and normal; I could accurately say that it feels like waking up from a dream. You remember what happened, but it just doesn't feel real anymore. It's like, on one hand I'm thinking "Goodness! Why am I not praying? Why am I consuming these things?" On the other, because of the rationality factor, it's like, "Of course I'm not praying these mechanical prayers! Of course I'm fine with having a drink or a piece of bacon!" At least now things feel a bit more natural and normal. And, for the record, I haven't been taking liberties with my new freedom with regard to alcohol and pork. Been rather sparing, in fact. :-P

The last thing, and I'll end with this, is that I am starting to wonder what religion, if any, I'll go to next. Right now, the three I'm most closely looking at are (in no particular order) Buddhism, some form of Neopaganism, and Unitarian Universalism (UU). UU might seem like the most logical choice, but the other two also have substantial appeals, as well. I am thinking that the most logical thing for me to do right now is to just be ME for a while and not feel like I have to commit myself to any one community or tradition now. I should explore and see which, if any, is most appropriate for me. (Who knows, I may later decide Islam is right, after all. Unlikely, but nothing is impossible!) Until then, "exploration" and "contemplation" are the key words.

My love and best wishes to everyone. God bless!