Should I say "Peace be upon you", or simply "Hello"? Where are you from, and where am I from? What do you believe, and what do I believe? What is your environment, and what is mine? I know you might be as puzzled as I am. Why are we so different? Does our difference mean I am superior to you, or that you are superior to me? Does it mean my religion is true and yours is wrong, or that I am right and you are mistaken? This is my question to you: who are you, and who am I? What is right, what is more right, and what should we actually do to simply be on the correct path?
If we reflect on the world for a moment, I am a teenager born in Syria, and you are someone born in another corner of the globe. You believe in one framework, and I in another. Like most of humanity, you likely opened your eyes to find a ready-made architecture of belief waiting for you—following the exact footprints of your ancestors to spare yourself the agonizing burden of independent thought. Do you truly believe this is right? Of course not. Why else would there be such a vast multiplicity of religions and sectarian divides? Surely not so we can wage tribal wars over who is wiser, who is foolish, who embodies good, and who represents evil. I am young, but my intellect refuses to remain silent.
When we look closely, we see that non-religious traditions focus on causing no harm; Muslims emphasize helping others through charitable duty; Christians practice moral integrity and grace; Hindus and countless others cultivate rich, transcendent ideals. Beyond the human flaws, all these paths converge at a single baseline: humanity. You might tell me: "Prophets and messengers came throughout history; who are you to try and change religion?" I would reply that I am someone thinking deeply rather than remaining on the superficial surface. It makes no sense for monumental, cosmic events to span centuries just for a prophet to arrive, utter a few literal commands, and vanish. They did not leave mere words; they left an allegorical map for us to decode to reach the ultimate treasure: human conscience itself.
You might ask: "What is the purpose of religion if you believe it is not completely accurate as commonly understood?" I believe religion is valid, but not in the literal, uncritical way most people interpret it.
Take a famous example: strict literalists insist that divine authority commands the physical cutting off of a thief’s hand. Does it make rational sense that a merciful Creator would prescribe physical mutilation? Of course not. Analyzing this metaphorically, "severing the hand" means providing the socio-economic support necessary so the individual no longer needs to steal—stopping the transgression by curing the systemic cause, not mutilating the human body.
Consider another crucial subject: rules, rituals, and prohibitions. Rigourous, absolute rules were constructed for those who choose not to think. Does the Divine truly demand that you execute mechanical physical routines while reciting phrases you do not sense in your soul? Does He forbid things you naturally desire without an underlying moral purpose? Let us examine a major topic among millions of doctrines: casual or non-marital relationships. Traditional dogmas strictly forbid them. An uncritical mind simply submits: "It is forbidden, so I will abstain lest I burn in hell." A reflective mind pauses and asks: "Why was it forbidden?"
The root concerns are clear: unwanted pregnancies and emotional betrayal. A thoughtful, ethical individual will not betray anyone and acts with personal integrity. Regarding pregnancy, modern medicine provides complete prevention, allowing responsible adults to engage with care and genuine affection without inflicting harm. However, if traditional dogma explicitly stated this nuance, an uncritical person would only read the word "permitted," act recklessly, ruin their life, and betray others. This is precisely why rigid religious boundaries exist: as necessary guardrails to restrain those who do not think for themselves from committing catastrophic mistakes.
Do you believe God created human desire and human intellect to exist in perpetual warfare? Of course not. Desire is the engine that moves us, while reason orbits around it like planets around the sun, continually guiding our impulses toward a noble outcome.
I share this because even if you disagree with my conclusions, the fact that you are engaging with these ideas means your sense of humanity is active. As a teenager in Syria, I could have easily succumbed to extremism or abandoned deep thought like many around me. Instead, I carved out my own philosophical path. Even if I make errors, what matters is that I am reasoning consciously rather than existing passively.
Take the concepts of life, death, heaven, and hell, which are often explained in a shallow, cartoonish manner. Does it make rational sense that a human soul dies only to be roasted perpetually like meat in eternal punishment? Of course not. Through a reasoning lens, a logical perspective emerges: existence is a series of evolutionary, learning lives. If someone commits severe harm and remains ignorant, they face a harsher environment in their next stage of existence—suffering sufficiently to learn from their transgressions and evolve. A Creator desires your enlightenment, not your mere torture. A comfortable life leaves no room for profound contemplation; hardship is the necessary friction that forces you to evaluate your values and refine your mind.
Finally, consider prayer. Do repetitive physical routines and chanted verses truly develop the soul, or do they become mere habituated songs? Rigid rituals exist for those who do not reflect on their daily existence. For a thinking person, every intricate detail in the universe becomes an ongoing prayer—a trigger to ponder: "Why did my Creator design this?"
There are millions of other doctrines we could deconstruct. I leave the rest to you, my reader. Question who you are. Construct your own authentic philosophy grounded in rigorous reason. Do not let your environment or inherited dogma suppress your extraordinary mind. Do not confine your existence to ancient texts dictating what you must and must not do.
Ask yourself: Who are you? Why are you here? What ought you to do? And what is true religion—is it inherited dogma, or is it humanity?