Rational Religiosity, or Reason-Guided Devotion, Mostafa Malekian (Session Two)

با عرض سلام و ادب به محضر همۀ خواهران و برادران گرامی، ابتدائاً مختصر و خلاصه‌ای از مباحث جلسۀ گذشته را بیان می‌کنم: جلسۀ گذشته، بحث در باب مولفه‌های « تدین تعقلی » بود و بیان شد که به نظر می‌رسد که تدین متعقلانه، تنها روشِ تدین اولاً قابل گفتار منطقی و ثانیاً در خور پذیرش ذهنیت انسان مدرن است. مولفه‌های این دینداری متعقلانه را من به عقل قاصر خودم، دوازده مولفه احصاء کرده بودم، چهار مورد از این دوازده مولفه را در جلسۀ پیشین برشمردیم. .

Rational Religiosity, or Reason-Guided Devotion — Session Two

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful. Greetings and respects to all dear brothers and sisters. First, I will briefly summarize the discussions from the previous session: Last session, the discussion was about the components of "reason-guided devotion," and it was stated that it seems reason-guided devotion is the only method of devotion that is, firstly, logically articulable and, secondly, worthy of acceptance by the modern human mentality. To my deficient intellect, I had enumerated twelve components for this reason-guided religiosity, four of which we listed in the previous session.

The first component was that reason-guided religiosity is a religiosity in which a comprehensive and all-encompassing philosophy of life emerges for my entire life, not just that one part of my life differs from non-religious people and my life plan resembles that of those who have no religion.

The second component was that reason-guided religiosity considers religion as a quest for truth, not ownership of truth. A believer who has matured in reason-guided religiosity sees themselves only as a seeker of truth, not an owner of truth. Therefore, their manner of encountering all those who imagine their own religion as their personal possession is different.

The third component stated was that in reason-guided religiosity, a kind of critical thinking is alive and current, and this critical thinking is alive even when encountering sacred religious and sectarian texts. But of course, critical thinking does not mean fault-finding thinking. Thinking can never be fault-finding. When thinking is truly thinking, it pays attention to confirmations as well as to refutations; therefore, thinking is not fault-finding at all. However, in any case, pure submission, blind and reasonless surrender, is forbidden in critical thinking, even towards sacred religious and mythological texts. There too, one must ask questions and delve deeply into the answers, and after reflection and contemplation on the answers, new questions will arise again, and those questions must be asked anew. In this way, a dialectic of question and answer emerges, a dialectic that, as it progresses, deepens the religious understanding of the believer.

The fourth component stated was that in reason-guided religiosity, the religious person feels peace of mind, in the sense that it seems to them that nothing is to their detriment.

These four components that were discussed shared a common characteristic, which was that all four pertained to "religious belief and insight." In this session, I will address other components, which are further divided into another set of four components, which I will explain in detail, trying to complete the discussion as best as I can.

After those four components related to religious insight, it seems there are four other components that are not related to religious insight but rather to "religious striving." I did not use the term "religious action" for these second four components, for a reason that will become clear later; I could have said "religious action," meaning religious behavior, but instead of the term "action" or "behavior," I used the term "striving" to show that—and you will see later in the talk—these are not simple behaviors; they are behaviors that an individual must practice throughout their life, a kind of exercise [1], and because it is an exercise, the term behavior lacks the sense of endeavor and movement and is not a suitable term. The four components that will be discussed share this aspect: they are all things that require lifelong exercise, a kind of lifelong practice.

The fifth characteristic: The reason-guided believer is a believer who firmly believes in self-control and personal discipline:

What is meant by self-restraint or personal discipline is precisely this: “not surrendering to immediate and fleeting desires,” if I consider the benefits and harms that I envisage for myself, which can be divided into eight categories:

1. Worldly benefits and harms.

2. A series of otherworldly benefits and harms (our assumption here is that we are dealing with a religious person, and a religious person believes in the Hereafter, in whatever form that may take).

3. Material benefits and harms

4. Spiritual benefits and harms

5. Short-term benefits and harms

6. Long-term benefits and harms

7. Benefits and harms that are envisaged only in solitude and in private life, in the strict sense of the word.

8. Benefits and harms that are envisaged in public, in social life, and in the collective sphere.

Eight categories of benefits and harms are conceivable, and these conceivable benefits and harms fall into four binary pairs. Without wishing to elaborate further, in rational religiosity, if you consider only short-term benefits and harms and material benefits and harms in your calculations, you have, in fact, lost the path of religiosity by your own hand. A rational believer is not someone who surrenders to their transient benefits, wants, wishes, and inclinations—or, to put it better, their immediate and fleeting ones. A kind of self-restraint, self-control, and personal discipline governs them, and this personal discipline is nothing other than a thoroughly rational calculation. This calculation that “many are the short-term pleasures followed by long-term pains” and “many are the short-term pains followed by long-term pleasures”—if we accept just these two propositions, then the necessary consequence is that a thoughtful person says: therefore, the mere fact that a pleasure is short-term should not make me grasp at it, and the mere fact that a pain is short-term should not make me flee from it. Many are the short-term pains that we should desire, and many are the short-term pleasures that we should flee from. What matters is the final calculation, what accrues to me in the long run.

Anyone who makes such a calculation will naturally develop self-restraint; that is, naturally, many things that at first glance appear beautiful to the individual, they will turn away from, and many things that at first glance appear ugly to the believer, they will not flee from, but rather welcome; “... and it may be that you dislike a thing while it is good for you, and it may be that you love a thing while it is bad for you ...” (Al-Baqarah / 216). All of this is possible. This is not exclusive to Islam; Buddhism, whose entire attention is confined to the problem of suffering and whose entire religion—in the Buddha’s own words—is confined to the paths of liberation from suffering, and in this respect is a religion entirely based on the theme of suffering, also emphasizes this abundantly. For instance, in one of the Buddhist scriptures, it is emphasized in eleven instances: “Let short-term suffering come,” and conversely, “Let short-term pleasures go.” It is not the case that just because I am to be free from suffering, I should be free from every suffering; and just because I am to try to attain some kind of ease and pleasure in life, I should therefore welcome every ease and pleasure. In the calculation of suffering and ease, all the aforementioned eight divisions must be taken into account and considered.

This self-restraint causes two states to become continuous in the life of the religious person: one state which I call “purity” [2], and the second state which I call “asceticism” [3]:

Purity: By purity, I do not mean the purity that might occur to some minds, just as by asceticism, I do not mean the asceticism that might spring to some minds. A person who has self-restraint, firstly, thinks of purity. Purity means removing from the path everything that is incompatible with my spiritual growth, cleansing and refining my life of all things that pose a kind of disturbance and a kind of obstacle to my spiritual growth; this is what we call purity, meaning cleansing, refining, purifying. It is not that we say, “Whatever comes, let it be welcome.” Many things that come should not come, and therefore we do not welcome their arrival at all. Conversely, many things that do not come, we must strive to make them come,

Purity means clearing the path to make the way smooth; whenever we refine the path from the things that have made it uneven, we are in fact seeking purity; we are facilitating our own spiritual growth. Of course, this purity itself also has numerous branches, and if I were to delve into those numerous branches, I would stray from the main discussion. But purity is a very important matter. To live a pure life means looking at everything from the perspective of whether it is beneficial or detrimental to my spiritual growth; if it is detrimental, it must leave the stage of my life. Of course, removing it from the stage of life, in reality, means removing it from the stage of my inner life. We cannot cleanse and refine the stage of our outer life whenever we will it. What matters to us is refining the inner stage of our own life from all the things that cause us disturbance. This is what we refer to as purity.

Asceticism: A person who has self-restraint, in addition to living a pure life, also lives a life accompanied by asceticism. What does asceticism itself mean? Asceticism means that in the realm of action, in that inner practice I have, I always pay attention to this and demonstrate in that practice and exercise that no one achieves anything without hardship. In the words of Spinoza [4], "The noblest things in the world are the bitterest things in the world," but the bitterest, in the process; a noble thing cannot be obtained without bitterness.

There is nothing noble that is attained with complete ease. The saying "The truth is bitter" (al-haqqu murr) is not exclusive to truth; rather, almost every noble thing, including attaining truth, acquiring truth, and realizing truth in life, is not an easy or simple task. Asceticism means accepting that noble things are attained with difficulty and suffering. Accepting this reality in the world that nothing noble is obtained without sacrifice. The world, fundamentally, is a world of sacrifice [5]; that is, in this world, you cannot receive something without giving something. You must give things to receive something.

The only discussion is about what things must be given to receive what you seek; only this is important. Otherwise, as Nima Yushij put it, until you give something, you receive nothing. The world is such that until it takes something or some things from you, it gives you nothing. And in this regard, the nobler the thing you desire, the more things you must give. Therefore, asceticism means not looking at life as a luxury, but viewing it as a necessity. Whenever I feel that whatever I must give, I must give it for the attainment of a necessary matter, not for the attainment of a luxurious one—when I say "luxury," I do not mean external luxuries—whatever I give, whatever I sacrifice, whatever I forfeit, I must forfeit it for something that is a necessity in my life, not for something whose absence would cause no lack or deficiency in my life.

Asceticism means accepting that noble things can only be obtained through suffering and bitterness, and at the head of the noble things that can be obtained through suffering are three great things: 1- Truth, 2- Goodness, 3- Beauty. All those who are seekers of truth, well-wishers of goodness, and pursuers of beauty have a bitter and suffering-filled life. Why has it been said so often that living rightly—in the words of Somerset Maugham—is like walking on the razor's edge (referring to the novel "The Razor's Edge" by Somerset Maugham)? Why is it like walking on the razor's edge? Even in some of our religious expressions, it is stated that "the Bridge of Sirat is narrower than a hair and sharper than a sword." Many of our mystics have offered an interpretation of this concept and said that this phrase means that anyone who wants to reach the destination must walk on such a path, a path that is very narrow and thus deprives a person of room for maneuver and display, and it is also a very perilous path, meaning that if you do not lift your foot exactly as you should, even by a particle, you will wound your own foot.

Therefore, asceticism means accepting that you will not reach anywhere easily, and if you are going to act in a zigzag or circular manner, you can certainly live with ease, but you cannot have a forward-moving life; all those who have acted either in a zigzag or circular fashion have managed to eke out crooked and sickly lives, but all those who have lived with hardship have been those who did not want a zigzag or circular life, but rather a progressive and forward-moving life.

It is narrated in Nahj al-Balagha that when it was said of Ali ibn Abi Talib (AS), "If a mountain were to love me, it would crumble"—this statement, that if a mountain were to love me, it would crumble, I, at least, understand in this way: if someone were to love justice, benevolence, affection, and truth as Ali (AS) loved them, then naturally, nothing but crumbling would ensue.

Again, in the interpretation of the verse concerning the presence of Moses (AS) in the Quran, which states: "And when Moses came to Our appointed time and his Lord spoke to him, he said, 'My Lord, show me [Yourself] that I may look at You.' He said, 'You will never see Me, but look at the mountain; if it remains firm in its place, then you will see Me.' And when his Lord manifested Himself to the mountain, He made it crumble to dust, and Moses fell down unconscious. And when he recovered, he said, 'Glory be to You! I turn to You in repentance, and I am the first of the believers'" (Al-A'raf / 143). Moses (AS) said, 'O God, reveal Yourself to me!' God said, 'You cannot see Me, yet look at the mountain; if you see the mountain remaining firm in its place, you will see Me.' When God manifested Himself to the mountain, the mountain crumbled and Moses (AS) fell unconscious.

Many of our mystics, including Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi, have said that the meaning of this verse is not that if God were to actually manifest Himself to the mountain, the mountain would crumble—God is always manifesting, yet the mountain does not crumble. The meaning of the verse is that if you seek to assimilate to God, meaning to adopt the character traits of God, you will crumble, but a crumbling towards which you have second-order satisfaction, a crumbling from which you yourself derive pleasure. Again, I do not wish to raise the discussion of first-order and second-order satisfaction, but it is very important that the physics of the lives of spiritual human beings, from an observer's perspective, may appear to be a very, very bitter and harsh life, yet those spiritual human beings have a second-order satisfaction with this very bitter and harsh life, and they themselves enjoy this life.

It is a life accompanied by pain and suffering, yet at the same time, it is satisfying to them. This second-order satisfaction is a very, very important matter, and all mystics and all those who have engaged in spiritual wayfaring have drawn attention to the fact that you can lead a difficult life, but the satisfaction you derive from this life can be greater than that of those who do not lead this difficult life and live in a state of comfort and affluence.

In any case, asceticism means accepting that I cannot attain a noble station unless I endure certain bitternesses upon myself; this asceticism is, in fact, a kind of sacrifice, and it is interesting that in English and some other European languages, including French and German—at least as far as I know through English—the act of sacrificing is expressed with a word that also contains the notion of sanctity; for example, in English, 'Sacrifice' is etymologically related to 'Sacred,' meaning that sacred things can be attained through sacrifice. We cannot acquire the sacred matter unless we make a sacrifice and give something up, and from this perspective, some have said that mystics can be considered those who are always at the altar, always in the process of sacrificing something to reach their sacred matter. This sacred matter can, of course, be 'Truth,' it can be 'Goodness,' and it can also be 'Beauty,' and mystics pursue all three, but ultimately, whatever this sacred matter is, it demands this sacrifice.

The result of this self-restraint is three things, which I will mention just to complete the skeleton of my discussion: those who practice self-restraint and submit to asceticism acquire three advantages and characteristics in their lives compared to others:

The first characteristic: "Benevolent Firmness": The first advantage these individuals find in life is a kind of "firmness" and "steadfastness"; they find a state of stability in life such that they do not sway with every wind. A famous American proverb says that so-and-so is strong because he is honest—a precise expression; so-and-so has the strength of a hundred men because he is honest. These individuals gain the strength of a hundred men,

or, in the words of Buddhism, they bend but do not break. In Buddhism, a famous saying of the Buddha is, "Be like a field of wheat," where the fiercest winds bend the wheat, but it does not break, and as soon as the wind passes, it stands upright again. Individuals who possess self-restraint never bow their heads in the face of hardships and possess a kind of firmness—benevolent firmness, of course—or, in another expression used in one of the Buddhist texts, their firmness is the firmness of water, not the firmness of stone. The firmness of water is unbreakable, but the firmness of stone is breakable. No matter how hard a stone is, there is ultimately a hammer that can shatter it. But nothing can shatter the firmness of water, and therefore the firmness of water overcomes the firmness of stone.

The second characteristic: "Individuation" [6]: The second characteristic of those who submit to asceticism—asceticism in the sense I mentioned—and accept it and fully realize this practice in their lives, is that these individuals find a kind of individuation. That is, they become different from others; "mediocrity" or "averageness" [7] departs from their lives. If you have noticed, we are usually mediocre and lack individuation. To clarify my point, let me give an example: when you buy three types of fruit, for instance, apples, oranges, and watermelon, and you bring those fruits home, if you pay attention, the apple smells exactly like an apple, and no other fruit; the orange smells exactly like an orange; the watermelon has its own distinctive watermelon smell. Then, if you leave them next to each other in the refrigerator for two or three days, when you take the fruits out, the apple smells of all three fruits, the orange smells of all three, the watermelon smells of all three, and none of them has its own distinctive smell anymore.

Such a state is the state of mediocrity and averageness, meaning a state where we all smell like everyone else and none of us has our own distinctive smell. This means lacking "individuation." But a person who submits to asceticism finds individuation; that is, they do not, like everyone else, smell like everyone else, but rather emit only their own distinctive scent. Mediocrity, in the expression used by Nietzsche [8]—that truly profound and endearing philosopher—means that we are the product of the division of all groups. If you consider the example I proposed, each of the three types of fruit still has a smell after staying in the refrigerator, but none has its own pure smell.

We are all like these fruits, resembling one another, and it is for this reason that you see our lives are identical and not different. We all strive for the same thing, we all have the same inclination, and if a person emerges from this mediocrity, they appear entirely "unconventional" [9] to us, because they smell only of themselves. To us, they are truly abnormal. Now, we might react rudely and say they are mad or foolish, or we might not behave rudely and say, "This is a strange creature." "Strange" means they smell only of themselves, they possess only their own coordinates.

Asceticism brings a person to this state, bestowing upon them an individuation, meaning I am only myself, and this "I am only myself" means I do not smell of everyone else; I have only and exclusively my own distinctive scent. Individuals who emit their own distinctive scent—in the very expression I used—the further they advance on this ladder of asceticism, the more they reach this state. However, I will certainly mention in one of the other characteristics that this does not create any sense of judgment for such individuals.

The third characteristic: “Profound Insight”: And the third effect of asceticism is that it grants a person a depth that ordinary people lack; asceticism makes one profoundly insightful. Sohrab Sepehri has an interesting poem where he says that when you have no shoes, you feel the stones and the ups and downs of the alley better; the barefoot person understands that there is gravel here. Whoever suffers in life, their understanding of the entire universe becomes deeper, and they become more comprehending and profound towards the whole of existence.

The sixth characteristic: The rationally devout person gradually reaches the stage of “self-governance” [10]:

And the next characteristic, which is also a trait we must cultivate within ourselves, is that the rationally devout person must gradually reach the stage of self-governance, and not remain forever in the stage of “other-governance” [11]. Again, to explain the matter simply, I will give an example: You will notice that when you have never studied medicine and know nothing about the practice of medicine, you fall ill, then you go to a doctor and follow their prescription. As long as you remain in this state of ignorance and unawareness regarding medicine, anyone who asks you—so long as this state of ignorance towards medicine persists—why you are following this prescription, you will say, “Because the doctor said so.” In reality, you show yourself to be obedient, submissive, and compliant to the “doctor.” And, of course, there is nothing wrong with this. If you remain in this state for the rest of your life, meaning you never acquire any medical knowledge until the end of your life, then for the rest of your life, whenever you follow a prescription, you must say the same thing; you must say, “I am following the prescription because the ‘doctor’ said so.” As long as you are in this stage, in Tillich’s [12] terms, you are in a kind of “other-governance”; another individual is ruling over you, who, in this example, is the doctor. Of course, there is nothing wrong with this. But when does this discussion arise?

When you want to perpetuate this process forever. However, if during the course of your illness, you gradually, for instance, became interested in medicine and went on to study it, then one day you feel that from today onward, I am following this prescription the doctor wrote, but no longer because the doctor wrote it. From now on, I myself also understand that this very prescription is the correct one; I myself also understand that for treating my illness, this is the most beneficial course of treatment. From now on, you may still follow the same prescription, but you no longer say, “because the doctor wrote it”; rather, you say, “I myself, with the medical knowledge I possess, know that this prescription is the sole, unique, and exclusive prescription for my illness.” From this moment on, you are “self-governing” [13]; you are ruling over yourself. There is no doubt that religiosity in its first stage is “other-governance”; that is, in the first stage, anyone who becomes religious is obeying someone called “God,” obeying someone called the “Lawgiver,” whose holy book and religion serve for them as a prescription written by a doctor, and they follow this prescription because that doctor wrote it. But one must gradually strive and attain such religious depth, and one’s religious understanding must become so profound, that one says, “Even if God had not said it, this very thing would have been right.” Most of us never reach this stage until the end of our lives because we lack rational religiosity; until the end of our lives, we remain in that state of other-governance. Another effect of other-governance is that, in another expression used by Hegel [14] and Marx [15], the human being is alienated from themselves,

A person who is autonomous is alienated from themselves, not at peace with themselves, because they always see themselves as separate from another being who says "do" and they do, says "don't" and they don't. But a human being who reaches this stage of "autonomy" gradually says, no, even if God had not said so, there was no other way. You usually see mystics in all religions and denominations, from a certain phase onward, exhibiting a kind of autonomy. Of course, this does not mean that they no longer tolerate or cannot bear the prescriptions of their religion; it is not like that. Rather, they are no longer committed to that prescription simply because the founder of the religion or denomination said so; their commitment stems from their own personal realization. This is what the Iranian mystic meant when he said, "How long will you say, 'So-and-so narrated to me, from so-and-so, from so-and-so, from so-and-so, from so-and-so, from so-and-so,' until you reach the Messenger of God (PBUH)?"—because in our books of hadith, it is like this; we say, "haddathani" (narrated to me), so-and-so told me, who quoted so-and-so, and he from another so-and-so, and he from whom, and he from whom, until we reach the Messenger of God (PBUH). Then our mystic would say, "How long will you say, 'So-and-so narrated to me, from so-and-so, from so-and-so,' until you reach the Messenger of God (PBUH)? I say, 'My heart narrated to me from my Lord.' My heart heard from God, without an intermediary." This "my heart heard from God" does not mean rebellion; rather, it means that I have now understood that this very thing is correct. I have understood that what God has said is correct, and therefore, from now on, my commitment to religion is not merely because God has said it, but I say, because I myself have also understood it.

This state is one that emerges in cultured, devout individuals, but for me and the likes of me, such a state may never occur until the end of our lives, and therefore we must constantly be told "al-Baqir (AS) said" and "al-Sadiq (AS) said." They do not make mistakes; they understand. But their audience will not accept it until they say "al-Baqir (AS) said" and "al-Sadiq (AS) said." It is still transmitted, still received by hearing; they have not yet found anything themselves. Otherwise, you should not have to say so much about who said it, who said it. You should present the statement, and a person who had undergone such a condition would say, "This statement is true." There is no need to say who said it; whoever may have said it, whoever may not have said it, this statement is correct! This, too, is a state that has its own effects and consequences.

The Seventh Characteristic: The Rationally Devout Person Lives in Uncertainty and Lack of Assurance, Yet with Serenity:

And the seventh characteristic that we must cultivate within ourselves is to live in uncertainty. What does it mean to live in uncertainty? In the previous session, it was stated that a person who is rationally devout lives with a kind of peace of mind. But at the same time, I mentioned that in the next session, I would discuss a characteristic that you should not think is incompatible with the one I am now describing. This characteristic I am now discussing is precisely the one that explains that the devout person lives in uncertainty, in the sense that if it were necessary to provide proof for religious and denominational claims, there is no irrefutable rational proof even for a single religious or denominational claim. That is, in the way I can prove to you that "the sum of the angles of a triangle is 180 degrees," "the angle of incidence of light equals the angle of reflection," "the molecular composition of water is H2O," "the product of the pressure of a gas and the volume of a gas is a constant value," I can never prove to you in the same manner that "God exists." I can never prove that "there is life after death." Never. There is no proof for religious claims that no thinker could refute, that no meticulous thinker could cast doubt on one of its premises. That is, religious claims, although not "anti-rational," are "reason-elusive."

Religious claims, contrary to the view of those who believe they are contrary to reason, are not contrary to reason, but contrary to the view of those who have said they are “amenable to reason,” they are not amenable to reason either; they are neither amenable to reason nor contrary to reason, but rather they evade reason—all of them, without exception, evade reason. A proposition amenable to reason is one whose truth reason, by itself and on its own, can prove; a proposition contrary to reason is one whose falsehood reason, by itself and on its own, can prove; and a proposition that evades reason is one that reason, on its own, can neither prove to be true nor prove to be false. Some have said that religious and theological propositions are altogether contrary to reason, meaning reason can prove their falsehood; this claim appears to be incorrect.

On the other hand, many theologians and philosophers, especially in theistic religions and particularly in Islam, hold the belief that religious and theological propositions are amenable to reason, meaning reason can prove their truth; this is also incorrect. Reason alone cannot prove the truth of religious propositions either. We dwell in a space, atmosphere, and climate where all propositions evade reason, meaning one can mount no rational argument either for or against them, neither for their truth nor for their falsehood. Therefore, these propositions, if and only if the issue is one of rational proof, are, from an epistemological standpoint, equal and in the same scale with their contraries; neither has any preference over the other in terms of purely rational argument.

Now, if this is the case, then the religious person dwells in a state of uncertainty, in a state of lack of assurance. But the interesting story of rational religiosity lies in the fact that the rationally religious person is without assurance yet possesses tranquility; he lacks certainty but has tranquility. Let me show you a very interesting example of lack of assurance combined with tranquility. Kierkegaard [16], the valuable Danish thinker and mystic of the first half of the nineteenth century, was the first to draw all thinkers’ attention to a point in Socrates’ Apology—the Apology of Socrates, meaning the collection of speeches Socrates gave when he appeared in court for his trial, which Socrates’ student Plato compiled into a treatise and book, a book that is arguably Plato’s most important and famous work, called the “Apology.” Kierkegaard noticed a point in this Apology, and that is, he says:

If we pay close attention to this Apology, Socrates repeatedly emphasizes, “if there is a life after death,” meaning he is not certain of a life after death. Yet, observe that despite lacking certainty about a life after death, he faced death with a courage unparalleled in history; not the slightest fear, dejection, anxiety, or turmoil arose within him. He accepted his death sentence with complete courage, and later, when he could have escaped from prison and freed himself in the simplest manner, he rejected all proposals for escape and went to meet death with the utmost courage. Thus, Socrates was someone who had no assurance of a life after death, yet faced death with tranquility—tranquility in the absence of assurance. Kierkegaard then says: how many philosophers have appeared in history who, in their own estimation, proved a life after death with irrefutable proofs, yet were terrified even by the mention of death! The meaning of this is that, in their own estimation, they believed there was a life after death, but their assurance did not grant them tranquility, whereas our Socrates had no assurance but possessed tranquility; he had peace but no certainty. The religious believer—that is, the religiously devout person—is like this in his entire life: he has no certainty but possesses tranquility; he has no assurance but possesses tranquility.

If you pay close attention, you will see in the Quran, for example, regarding the Prophet (PBUH), it is stated: “And from the night, keep vigil with it as a supererogatory prayer for you; perhaps your Lord will raise you to a praiseworthy station” (Al-Isra / 79). “Perhaps,” meaning “maybe,” there is no certainty involved. Imam Sajjad (AS) says in the Sahifa al-Sajjadiyya: “O God, for salvation we rely not upon our deeds, but upon Your grace toward us.” O God, we have no assurance, meaning I am in a state of lack of assurance, but I preserve my tranquility.

این ناشی از این است که متدین متعقل، نه متدین سنتی، نه متدینی که دین را به ارث برده است، می‌فهمد که برای هیچ‌یک از دعاوی دینی نمی‌تواند برهان عقلی خدشه‌ناپذیر ارائه کند. شخص صادق به این اعتراف هم می‌کند، من اگر صادق باشم، اعتراف می‌کنم که در عین حال که من متدین هستم و پای‌بندی‌های معنوی هم دارم، اما در عین حال هیچ‌کدام از مدعیات دینی خویش را نمی‌توانم اثبات عقلانی خدشه‌ناپذیر کنم، اما این اثبات عقلانی نکردن، طمأنینه من را از من نمی‌گیرد، من همچنان طمأنینه دارم. این نکته، بسیاربسیار نکته ارزشمندی است و باز هم به تعبیری که از کاردینال نیومن [17] برایتان نقل می‌کنم - نیومن یکی از بزرگترین کاردینال‌های تاریخ مسیحیت کاتولیک است - ایشان یک جمله بسیار معروفی دارد که معمولاً در کتاب‌های فلسفۀ دینی و اندیشه شناسی دین گاهی نقل می‌کنند که ایشان می‌گفت که دو چیز است که در آن بی‌اطمینانی با طمأنینه جمع شده است:

یکی «ایمان دینی» است، دیگری هم «عشق» است؛ شما یک عاشقی را در نظر بگیرید که خودش را کاملاً آراسته است، از هر جهت خودش را کاملاً پاکیزه کرده است، و فرض کنید که هدیه‌ای، دسته گلی هم در دست گرفته و مثلاً به طرف منزل معشوق خودش می‌رود، ولی هیچ اطمینان ندارد که معشوق وی را راه بدهد و بپذیرد، هیچ اطمینانی ندارد، ولی با اینکه هیچ اطمینانی ندارد و هیچ بعید نمی‌داند که اصلاً معشوق در را هم به رویش باز نکند، ولی با اینکه این همه تمهیدات، مقدمه چینی‌ها و زمینه‌چینی‌ها کرده است، هیچ ناخشنود نیست و راضی هم هست. در عین حالی که اگر به او بگوییم حالا تو یقین داری که با این همه زحمتی که کشیده‌ای معشوق تو را راه بدهد؟ می‌گوید، خیر، یقین ندارم ولی با این همه راضی هستم، او یک «عاشق راضی» است.

حالا فرض کنید یک عاشقی همین وضع را داشته باشد و بعد هم با قاطعیت هر چه تمام‌تر بگوید یقین دارم که من را راه می‌دهند، یقین دارم که من را می‌پذیرند، من را نپذیرند؟ امکان ندارد!! به این عاشق، عاشق راضی نمی‌گویند، بلکه به او باید «عاشق از خود راضی» گفت؛ حال آنکه متدین متعقل، عاشق راضی است، نه عاشق از خود راضی، او می‌گوید یقین ندارم ولی با این همه هیچ پشیمان هم نیستم. متدینان متعقل بر اساس یک اصولی زندگی می‌کنند که دارند روز به روز در این ورزه، به حقانیت این اصول پی‌می‌برند، اما از خود راضی نیستند.

اگر بگوییم خدای تو حتماً همانطور که تو تصور می‌کنی وجود دارد، این درست نیست؛ آن کسی که می‌گوید من کوچه پس کوچه‌های آخرت را بلدم، او عاشق از خود راضی است؛ من اصلاً نمی‌دانم «ما یُفعَل بی غداً»، من نمی‌توانم بگویم فردایم چه خواهد شد، آن وقت از کوچه پس کوچه‌های آخرت خبر داشته باشم؟ من به اصل آخرتش هم یقین ندارم، «الذین یظنون انهم ملاقوا ربهم» گمان می‌برند که خدایشان را ملاقات می‌کنند، ظن و گمان دارند نه یقین، و من بارها گفته‌ام که دوستان یک بار از این دید به قرآن نگاه بکنند که قرآن هر چه مربوط به ماوراء طبیعت است با الفاظی مثل «ظن»، «لعل»، «عسی»، از آنها تعبیر می‌کند، «الذین یظنون انهم ملاقوا ربهم و انهم الیه راجعون» (بقره / 46) و متدینان سنتی هستند که از خود راضی هستند، عاشقان از خود راضی هستند، ولی متدین متعقل فقط می‌گوید ما در واقع اطمینان نداریم، اما در عین حال طمأنینه‌مان را حفظ می‌کنیم، هیچ هم از این وضعی که پیش آمده است ناراضی نیستیم.

این که شما بتوانید در عشق مثل ایمان و در ایمان مثل عشق زندگی بکنید، عشق و ایمان دو بی‌اطمینانی و دو طمأنینه است، بی‌اطمینانی در عین طمأنینه است، این را اگر بتوانید حفظ کنید، می‌شود گفت شما در واقع متدین متعقل هستید، دیتریش بُنهافِر [18] – متفکر پروتستان مذهب معروف که در زندان‌نازی‌ها کشته شد، که او یکی از بزرگترین الهی‌دانان پروتستان است و مجموعه نامه‌هایی که از زندان نوشته، با عنوان «نامه‌های زندانی» چاپ شده است - می‌گوید انسان بالغ، انسانی است که در بی‌اطمینانی و در عین حال با طمأنینه زندگی کند، انسان‌های غیربالغ یا اطمینان و طمأنینه را با هم دارند یا هیچ‌کدام را ندارند، انسان بالغ، انسانی است که در عین اینکه طمأنینه دارد، ولی اطمینان ندارد.

ویژگی هشتم: متدین متعقل، به هم نوع – فقط از آن جهت که هم نوع است – خدمت نوع‌دوستانه می‌کند:

اما مولفه هشتم این است که متدین متعقل خدمت نوع‌دوستانه به همنوع می‌کند، فقط از آن جهت که همنوع انسان است و نه از هیچ حیث دیگری، نه از آن‌رو که هم دین او هم هست، هم کیش و آیین او هم هست، با او در ملیت شریک است، با او در قومیت شریک است، با او در رنگ و پوست، نژاد، منافع یا عقاید شریک است، خیر، خدمت هم‌نوعانه به همه انسان‌ها فقط از آن‌رو که انسان هستند،

به تعبیری که باز در احادیث ما آمده است «الناس عیال الله، انفَعَهُم اِلیهِم اُحبهُم الی» یا در حدیث قدسی آمده است «الناس عیالی انفَعَهُم اِلیهِم اُحبهُم الی» مردم، زن و فرزندان من هستند، هر که به آنها بیشتر سود برساند، در نزد من محبوب‌تر است، یک چنین دیدی که «عاشقم بر همه عالَم که همه عالَم از اوست»؛ این دین‌های سنتی است که می‌گوید نزد من هم‌دینان اعتبار دارند نه ناهم‌دینان؛ قرآن می‌گوید پیامبر «رحمه للعالمین» است، ولی اگر دست من و شما می‌دادند می‌گفتیم نخیر، فقط «رحمه للمسلمین» است، آن هم فقط مسلمینی که شیعه باشند، آن هم فقط مسلمینی که شیعه دوازده امامی باشند و گرنه هشت امامی، اسماعیلیه، کیسانیه، زیدیه و ... هم که نه، فقط مسلمان شیعه اثنی عشری و اگر باز هم دست ما می‌دادند می‌گفتیم نه، باید حتماً مسجد جمکران هم برود و یک چیزهای دیگری که بعد از انقلاب هم تازه به آنها اضافه کردند؛ این کار را اگر بکنید فقط علی می‌ماند و حوض او، کسی نمی‌ماند؛

اما شخصی که واقعاً تدین متعقلانه دارد، می‌گوید انسان از آن‌رو که انسان است محترم است و از آن‌رو که انسان است من باید خدمت نوع‌دوستانه به او داشته باشم. ویلیام جیمز [19] روان‌شناس و فیلسوف معروف آمریکایی، در کتاب معروف خود «انواع حالات دینی» [20] ویژگی‌های انسان‌های قدیس - به تعبیر خودش - را بیان می‌کند، ایشان در آنجا در میان ویژگی‌های مختلفی که می‌گوید یکی از این ویژگی‌ها این است که می‌گوید: من تاکنون در طول تاریخ ندیدم یک قدیسی که از کسی پرسیده باشد که «دین تو چیست؟»، «مذهب تو چیست؟» یا به گدایی گفته باشد که «عبادیات خود را بجا می‌آوری یا بجا نمی‌آوری؟»، یعنی آنهایی که قدیس هستند، یک نوع عطوفت، محبت و شفقتی نسبت به همه انسانها از آن‌رو که انسان هستند، نه از آن‌رو که دارای دین و مذهب خاصی هستند، دارند؛

این شفقت و عطوفت داشتن نسبت به انسان‌ها وقتی حاصل می‌آید که شما بتوانید در مواجهه با هر انسانی سه چیز را از ذهن و ضمیر خودتان دفع کنید: یکی اینکه وقتی با یک انسانی مواجه باشیم، بتوانید گذشته او را فراموش کنید؛ اکثر ما که نمی‌توانیم با همۀ انسان‌ها داد و ستد عاطفی مناسب داشته باشیم، برای این است که نمی‌توانیم گذشتۀ انسانی را که مخاطب ما است و با او مواجه هستیم، پیش چشم نیاوریم؛ وقتی گذشته را پیش چشم آوردیم، آن وقت تا آنجا پیش می‌رویم که می‌گوییم: «آقا! این ملت، ملتی است که پدرانشان هفتصد سال پیش به کشور ما حمله کردند، ببینید تا کجاها رفته‌ایم!! ... [21]

داستانی از حضرت سلیمان نقل شده است که وقتی حضرت سلیمان که دارای مُکنت و ثروتی بود گفت که خدایا یک روز بگذار من متکفل رزق مخلوقات بشوم و ... در این داستان چند نکته است که من حالا قصد ندارم همه آنها را مطرح سازم، ولی یک نکته است که سلیمان وقتی به کسی بر می‌خورد از او اعتقاداتش را می‌پرسد و او را می‌راند و از خود دور می‌کند؛ بعد گفته‌اند که خدا به او گفت که، من عمری به این فرد روزی می‌دادم ولی هیچوقت از او نمی‌پرسیدم که خدا را قبول داری یا نداری؟

واقعاً متأسفانه این تلقی در ما راسخ شده است که ما باید فقط به کسانی که شبیه خودمان هستند احسان بورزیم و بعد هم که بخواهیم در این شباهت تدقیق کنیم، آهسته‌آهسته می‌بینیم که کسی باقی نمی‌ماند که بتواند متعلق و طرف مقابل احسان ما قرار بگیرد. اما کسی که متدین متعقل است می‌گوید همه اینها آثار خداوند هستند و «مَن احَبُ شیئاٌ، احَبُ آثارَه» هرکس موجودی را دوست بدارد، آثار آن موجود را هم دست می‌دارد. این تلقی در میان ما وجود ندارد.

The mystics themselves always said that sometimes, precisely by acting contrary to others' expectations, we bring them to the path. Suppose you have struck me, and I have now gained the power to take revenge on you. The greatest transformative factor in you is for me to act contrary to your expectation; you expect revenge from me, but I am acting contrary to your expectation. In the words of Michel Foucault [22], the famous thinker with mystical leanings, "Instead of opposing people, oppose their expectations; then you will become beloved to them." If they expect you to take revenge, do not take revenge, and this is an elixir that transforms others.

The fourth through eighth components are four components of "religious striving," and we must undertake these four strivings to be able to claim that we possess rational religiosity. But there are four other components as well, namely that we must have four specific "religious inclinations"—"inclination," "attitude," "way of looking at society." One must look at the world in four specific ways. These specific ways of looking, looking at the world with this eye, of course affect both our beliefs and insights and our strivings, thus having an impact on the level of the two previous parts. However, it is itself not of the type of "striving," nor of the type of "insight," but rather a kind of "inclination," a kind of "attitude," a kind of "disposition."

The Ninth Characteristic: The Rationally Religious Person Has a Realistic View of Themselves:

The first inclination is that the rationally religious person can look at themselves realistically, just as I can look at you realistically. If one day I gain the power to look at myself realistically, meaning I can confront my naked soul without any concealment, then I can find my strengths and weaknesses, my errors and correct deeds. Have you ever noticed that in all religions, "repentance" is encouraged? Repentance is looking at oneself objectively [23] and realistically. Someone who does not look at themselves objectively cannot repent. Someone who can look at themselves just as they look at others, such a person can repent; because if one does not look at themselves objectively, they cannot see their own faults. The one who looks at themselves objectively can repent. In reality, repentance is an impartial attitude toward oneself. The person who repents has looked at themselves impartially; and because they have looked at themselves impartially and not partially, they have seen their own evils. That I can see myself as others see me, and even have a more stringent view of myself than the view others have of me, this is a rational attitude. This is a kind of correct disposition. Saadi has said:

The wise mentor Shahab gave me two counsels upon the water's face

One, be not optimistic about yourself; the other, be not pessimistic about others

In the boat, my master gave me two counsels: "Be not optimistic about yourself" and "Be not pessimistic about others." In reality, we do the opposite; we are optimistic about ourselves but pessimistic about others. That I can look at myself just as I look at others, and even more stringently, to be, in the words of Abu Sa'id Abu'l-Khayr, the "executioner of my own nature," to whip my own nature myself—this kind of attitude is the attitude of the rationally religious. The rationally religious are the most pessimistic of all toward themselves; they are optimistic toward others and pessimistic toward themselves, they love others and are pessimistic toward themselves. But those who have inherited religiosity have the utmost optimism toward themselves—for the very reason I explained in the previous session—and are pessimistic toward others.

Rational believers are individuals who, firstly, see themselves in the present moment and say,

Years ago I was reading in a book—I don't recall now which book it was—that in a penitentiary in America—since usually in these penitentiaries, every so often they would bring a priest to preach to the young men and adolescents and give them counsel—they had placed this sentence above the entrance: "Reverend Priest, be patient; our work with God is not yet finished." Do you think that because we have committed a crime, our file with God is now closed? No, our file with God is still open; we still have ups and downs in our lives;

"Be patient; our work with God is not yet finished." If you have this view, you look at everyone with the perspective that their file is not yet closed, and when their file is not yet closed, I can love them, especially if you consider that sometimes transformations occur within an individual. Whoever underwent a transformation in their heart last night does not come out the next day shouting to the four corners of the world, "O people! I have changed and been transformed!" Well, perhaps they changed last night.

"Preacher, be patient, for we still have our ups and downs with this God of your religion and creed." We still have our ups and downs with this God of your school of thought. Did you think that we took a fall and said, "There is no God," and now everything is finished?! No, we still have dealings with God; sometimes God throws us down, and sometimes we throw God down. We are still friends with God; we still have our ups and downs with your God. Do you think that now that we have refuted God with a proof and said He does not exist, everything is concluded?! Far be it from being so.

This viewing of human beings as a process, with a process-oriented perspective, is very important, and you should have this view toward yourselves as well. It is from this standpoint that William James—the famous psychologist—said that one of the great characteristics of saints is that they have a state of forgiveness and pardon toward everyone, and they also have this state toward themselves. They say, "My file is not yet closed either; I too can be better than this." They also forgive themselves, and this pardon and forgiveness includes themselves as well.

When we consider personality as a course and a process, and not a phenomenon and a product, then we can have such a view toward everyone. The result of this is that we love humanity despite all its flaws, and I have expressed many times that if we are to love someone only when they are flawless, then such a human being does not exist at all, and you must only love the Infallibles—if you believe in the existence of an Infallible. But the art lies in loving the human being with all the perfections and flaws they possess, not when a person is pure, immaculate, and perfect in every way; that kind of loving is, in fact, no significant loving at all. This state of loving in the way I described, which is the result of seeing an individual's life as a process, creates three characteristics in a person, which I will only name:

The first characteristic, "Forbearance": We develop "forbearance" toward all human beings, including ourselves.

The second characteristic, "Universal Forgiveness": Secondly, we develop a kind of "universal forgiveness" toward all human beings, which, in my opinion, is also very important.

The third characteristic, "Penetration into the Inner Depths of Human Beings": Thirdly, if we attain this state, we can gradually burrow into the inner depths of human beings. If you have noticed, our penetration and burrowing into human beings is only through their actions and words, and we cannot burrow into their inner depths. Therefore, with the aid of that view and conception, we can reach for such an inner deep-sightedness that enables us to burrow into the inner depths of human beings.

The eleventh characteristic: The rationally religious person, despite the opposition that may be mounted against his principles, preserves his principles:

Another characteristic that we must, again, acquire through a certain outlook and disposition is that we should be able to uphold our own principles despite the opposition that our norms [25], beliefs, hypotheses, and principles encounter in our lives. A rationally devout person is one who, despite all the opposition to their rules—that is, despite the fact that the world is not a world that conforms to their rules—can advance their life based on those rules, without violating or trampling upon them.

We should not expect society to become orderly one day so that we may become orderly. This view has two problems: a logical problem and a problem concerning reality [26]. If someone says, "One day society will become good so that I may become good," this, first of all, has a logical problem, which is that society is nothing but the sum of its individuals. If I say that until society becomes good, I cannot pursue the right path—well, who constitutes society right now? It is you! If each of you also says, "Until society becomes good, I cannot become good," and others say the same, then what or whom should we be waiting for? Hence, this has a logical problem; in reality, everyone would be waiting for no one, and since no one is no one, naturally no one comes, and since no one comes, everyone remains in a state of waiting.

The problem concerning reality is that you must know that an ideal society will never emerge on the face of the earth. It will never emerge for you to say, "I am waiting for it to emerge so that I may become good." No religion or creed—despite all that has been said, and what you have especially heard in these years—has ever said that an ideal society will come about on earth. It has said: strive to make society better; strive to make your society today better than it was yesterday, and its tomorrow better than its today. But it has also said: be realistic at the same time; an ideal society will not emerge on earth. Make societies better, but do not seek an ideal society.

All those who have sought to bring about an ideal society have also destroyed the half-finished, crooked, and ailing society they already had. All those who possess revolutionary thinking have this same problem, whether religious revolutionaries or non-religious revolutionaries. All those who say, "Let us overturn everything and establish an ideal society," end up overturning everything and cannot create the ideal society either—if I had the time, I would explain why this notion is a notion that cannot be realized in practice. Our problem is that all revolutionaries, both religious and non-religious, citing certain phrases in their own texts, think they can promise the establishment of an ideal society.

But no sacred scripture has said that an ideal society can one day be created on earth. Rather, they have said: strive to make society better. Some thinkers have even said that the opposite is abundant in the sacred texts of religions and creeds. When it was said, "Get ye down, all of you" (Al-Baqarah / 38)—that is, when they were told to leave Paradise—it means that there is no longer a paradise here on earth. However, you can certainly improve your own condition and that of your society. "And whensoever there cometh unto you from Me a guidance, then whoso followeth My guidance, no fear shall come upon them, nor shall they grieve" (Al-Baqarah / 38). When a guidance comes to you from Me, accept it, but you have already left Paradise; paradise is not realizable here. And all those who wish to realize paradise on earth only realize hell. History demonstrates this; test it a hundred more times, and the result will be the same.

Whoever says, "Sir, let us overturn everything so that we may rebuild everything anew," can never rebuild anything anew; rather, they will destroy even those things that were already built. Therefore, we cannot do such a thing. We can only, despite all the opposition that society shows to our moral and spiritual laws, continue to pursue them. In fact, our conception of society and of ourselves must be a conception of something within which we must walk and journey, despite the incompatibilities.

I have stated many times in various places that in interpreting why, in Hinduism and even in Buddhism, when they want to enter a temple, it is usually—in our Muslim terms—recommended to hold a lotus flower in one's hand or pin it to one's garment and enter the temple, Radhakrishnan [27]—the renowned Indian scholar who is one of the greatest interpreters of Hinduism in the twentieth century—in his very famous book The Hindu View of Life [28]—which is an interpretation of Hinduism—has said: Do you know why in Hinduism it is said to take a lotus flower in your hand and go to the temple? Because the lotus is a flower that, despite all its beauty, grows only in swamps, bogs, marshes, and putrid places. When they say take a lotus flower in your hand and enter the temple, it means that

O God! You who have the power to bring forth such a flower from a putrid place, from a swamp, and from a place of corruption, I also ask You to bring forth a flower from the swamp of society, and let that flower be me; I know that this society can never be without a swamp, society has more or less a swamp, but You can bring forth a lotus flower from the swamp, and I too want to be the lotus flower of society.

This view and perception is a realistic view; a person can keep themselves steadfast and firm in a society, despite all the adversities and misbehaviors that society shows toward their moral principles, but they must not wait for society to one day become favorable so that they may become well-adjusted, for in that case they will encounter the aforementioned problems. This means that a person must have an awakened moral conscience, a moral conscience that the corrupting lullabies of society do not put to sleep, for the lullabies of society are usually meant to put our moral conscience to sleep.

Society wants us to become mediocre, society wants us all to be alike; all mediocre individuals in society wish that those who are not mediocre would make themselves mediocre, but the individual who possesses rational religiosity says: If it is established that my principles are these, I must preserve my principles. The meaning of this, of course, is that, firstly, they do not take values from society in a traditional way, but rather, based on their own understanding, they derive their principles, and in this sense, they live an authentic life; and secondly, society's opposition in no way causes them to turn away or deviate from their own values.

The Twelfth Characteristic: The Rationally Devout Person Turns Away from All Forms of Idolatry and Holds No Idolatrous View of the World:

And the final characteristic is that the rationally devout believer is a believer who turns away from all forms of idolatry, meaning they do not hold an idolatrous view of the world. But what does idolatry mean? Idolatry means considering as God matters that are not God, or, in more philosophical terms, considering "relative" matters as "absolute"; whenever a relative matter is taken as absolute, then you have, in fact, made a god out of that relative matter—which you have taken as absolute—you have made an idol, and you are, in reality, worshipping it;

If I want to speak in the language of the Islamic faith, I must say that in Islam, on the one hand, you say "La ilaha illa Allah" (There is no god but God), and this is one of the important slogans of Islam and one of the two testimonies of faith; on the other hand, it has been said that there is no deity worthy of worship other than "Allah," meaning no entity other than Allah is worthy of becoming our idol, worthy of us worshipping it. So only "Allah" is worthy of worship.

On the other hand, one of the characteristics that no Muslim denies is that God is not visible, "Vision perceives Him not" (Al-An'am / 103). Therefore, firstly, if we are to worship only God, and secondly, God is not visible, the conclusion is that "anything visible must not be worshipped"; but do we worship visible things?! We can worship countless visible things; we can worship wealth, power, fame, popularity, and social status; we can worship the successes we achieve within the vessel of society.

But there are even subtler forms than these: we can worship human beings, we can worship personalities, we can worship our own opinions, and we can worship our own religion. Religion is not God either, and therefore religion should not be worshipped; the Prophet is not God and should not be worshipped; the great figures and founders of religion, the leaders of religion—none of these are God, and they should not be worshipped. Religion itself should not be worshipped either; religion is not God, but rather something sent down by God. Worship God, not religion.

Now, how do we know what we are worshipping and what we are not? There are two analyses on this matter, and both have been emphasized by psychologists of religion. If we want to see what we are worshipping in life, there are two analyses, and whichever path we take, we will not have gone astray:

The first analysis is that whatever we are willing to sacrifice everything for, but are not willing to sacrifice it for anything else—that is our idol and our god, whatever it may be. One of the Arab poets of the third century AH says that once a ship was sailing at sea when suddenly the sea grew turbulent and great waves rose, putting their lives in danger of destruction. They saw no solution but to lighten the ship. Then they told the ship's passengers to throw whatever they could into the sea. People first threw in the things they loved less. They said it was of no use; the ship still needed to be lighter. They came again and threw other things into the water, and this continued. He says, see what the situation came to: a scholar even threw his books into the water! This means that for him, books were more valuable than everything else, because the last thing he threw into the water was his books.

Now, if one day we were to rid ourselves of our things and attachments and throw them away, what is it that we truly cannot detach from and say, no, whatever happens, I must keep this? That very thing is our god. In this sense, there are many people whose god is not the God of religion and creed. It is something else for which they sacrifice everything—not that God of religion and creed that exists in their own faith, whatever that faith may be. So one method is this: what are we willing to throw away, and what will we not throw away at any price?

The second analysis: But there is also a second method, and that is: to what are we submissive without question, without scrutiny? Now, see what you are actually submissive to without scrutinizing it; that thing is your god. Personalities can be like this, clerics can be like this. The Quran says that the Jews and Christians were like this: "They have taken their rabbis and their monks as lords besides God, and [also] the Messiah, the son of Mary. And they were not commanded except to worship one God; there is no deity except Him. Exalted is He above whatever they associate with Him" (At-Tawbah / 31). The Quran says that the Jews and Christians worshipped the scholars of their religion, so it is possible to practice clericalism. Clericalism is also a form of idolatry. Anything can be worshipped.

Now, if you are to avoid having an idolatrous attitude toward the world, this means that you should regard as absolute only that which is truly absolute, not relative things. Whenever we regard a relative thing as absolute, firstly, we sacrifice everything else for it, and secondly, we are not willing to question or critique it. We are not willing to hear anything contrary about it. Everything will, in fact, be a matter of "be blind and keep your distance"; we have kept our god in a container and say, look at it from afar and do not touch it.

This absolutizing of the non-absolute—to use Tillich's phrase—is the greatest problem afflicting some societies today, including our own; for each of us, something other than the God of religion has become an idol, and we worship that very thing. Incidentally, in connection with the verse “They have taken their rabbis and their monks as lords besides God,” a companion asks Imam Baqir (peace be upon him) or Imam Sadiq (peace be upon him): Did the scholars of the Jews and Christians really tell their people, “Worship us”? The Imam then swears an oath and says, “No, by God,” it was not like that. Their scholars did not tell them, “Worship us,” and even if they had, the people would not have accepted to worship their religious scholars. The companion then asks, “So what does it mean? The Quran says they worshipped their own scholars!”

The Imam then replies that when the Quran says they worshipped their own scholars instead of God or in addition to God, it means they treated their scholars in a way that they should only treat God. He then explains and says that only God is the one whose word must be heard and accepted without question. They treated their own scholars in this same way, without asking, “What, after all, is your reason?” They say, “Because the religious scholar has said it, it must be accepted.” You must not treat a religious scholar the same way you treat God, for only God is “not questioned about what He does”; only God is not subject to questioning. If you treat any other matter or individual in this same way, you have worshipped them.

Therefore, if I were to have such a state toward power, wealth, social prestige, social successes, popularity, the state, the government, the religious scholar, religion itself, our own beliefs, or toward the view you hold of me—if I want to preserve these at any cost—I am, in reality, an idol-worshipper. The rational person is always pruning the forest of his life of false gods. This is a very interesting phrase from Dante [29]: “pruning the forest of life of false gods.” Why does the rational person do this? Because he is rational, and the religiously rational person says: I am meant to be submissive to only one being—whether you want to call that being “God,” “the soul of existence,” “Absolute Reason,” “Infinite Reason,” whatever expression you want to use, it makes no difference—I am submissive to one thing, not submissive to a hundred gods.

The Holy Quran says: “God sets forth an example: a man owned by several quarrelsome partners, and a man belonging entirely to one man. Are the two equal in comparison? Praise be to God! But most of them do not know” (Az-Zumar / 29). I (God) give you an example: compare a servant who has several masters who themselves quarrel with one another, and a servant who has a single master. A servant who has several masters and commanders, where the masters themselves quarrel with one another—if these masters did not quarrel with one another, well, they would all say “Sit,” and he would sit; they would say “Go,” and he would go. But the masters themselves quarrel with one another; one says “Sit!” and another says “Speak!” How does this compare with “a man belonging entirely to one man”? Is someone who is the servant of only one man and has a single master not different from someone who obeys multiple masters? And because the Quran itself senses that everyone will say, “Yes, they are different,” it therefore says, “Praise be to God.” So, thanks be to God. Honestly, are we not all like this?!

We have all filled the forest within ourselves with false gods; personality worship is not worship of God, but idol worship. Unfortunately, this personality worship exists in our lives and is not exclusive to religious scholars. If you worship your own teacher, it makes no difference. We have been forbidden from worship, not from a specific worship; we have been forbidden from any worship. We must have only one object of worship and one deity—if, of course, we are religious. Throughout these two sessions, I have been speaking within a religious context, meaning I assumed I was speaking to a religious person. Otherwise, if someone says that the story of religiosity is a story of pure self-alienation, that the story of religiosity is a story of superstition-worship, that the story of religiosity is a story of narcosis—these, of course, have their own arena of discussion, and I do not wish to enter into those debates.

O God, so bring the matter to an end / That You are pleased, and we are saved.

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Footnotes:

[1]. Practice

[2]. Purity

[3]. Rigor

[4]. Benedict de Spinoza

[5]. Sacrifice

[6]. Individuation

[7]. Mediocrity

[8]. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

[9]. Unusual

[10]. Autonomy

[11]. Heteronomy

[12]. Paul Tillich (1886-1965)

[13]. Autonomous

[14]. George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831)

[15]. Karl Marx (1818-83)

[16]. Soren Aabay Kierkegaard (1813-55)

[17]. John Henry Newman (1801-90)

[18]. Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-45)

[19]. William James (1842-1910)

[20]. James. William (1902) The Varieties of Religious Experience, New York; Collier Books

[21]. Unfortunately, due to the tape running out, a portion of this discussion was not recorded.

[22]. Michel Foucault (1926-84)

[23]. Objective

[24]. Process

[25]. Norms

[26]. Factual

[27]. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan

[28]. Radhakrishnan, S. (1927) The Hindu View of Life, London; Allen & Unwin

[29]. Alighieri Dante (1265-1321)

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Audio of Rational Religiosity, or Reason-Guided Devotion, Session Two

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Lecture by Mostafa Malekian titled "Rational Religiosity" - Session Two

19 Azar 1380 | Kanun-e Tawhid, Tehran

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Related Content:

Rational Religiosity, or Reason-Guided Devotion, Mostafa Malekian (Session One)

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