Friday, June 13, 2014

     As I indicated I would do, I offer the text/outline on which I based my talk of a few nights ago.  It's not intended to be comprehensive (this would consume many, many books), but it does present the basic elements of the "history" of death as well as the essential fundamentals of each major religion's (and the non-religious) viewpoint on death.


Death and Dying

Religious and Non-Religious Perspectives and Viewpoints

William E. Marsh*


The Fact of Death

      Death is inevitable:  we all are going to die.  Death is a part of life:  to be born is to         die, and to live is to die.  For many, the fact of death drives life
      Death is an idea, and death is an experience:  we think about it, we face it, we taste it—but do we ever really know it?  Indeed, how can we?
      Death is a terminal experience, that is, it’s nothing that can be reversed, and nothing that can be otherwise.  It represents a final extinction, an absolute end to this present existence.  Afterlife or not, death vanquishes and ends, without appeal, present consciousness, awareness, remembrance, space, time, morality, and value:  earthly sentience is gone and over forever.
      To repeat, for most people, there is a connection, of some kind, between life and death
      For some, the fact of death gives life meaning, be it a call to live this life wisely and fully, knowing that nothing will follow it, or a call to live wisely and fully, knowing that something will follow life, something whose parameters and conditions are shaped by how one lives it.
      For still others, death is an interloper, an intruder, a point of grief and anguish; for others, a necessary though perhaps distasteful fact; for others, an entry way; for others, a welcome release; for others, wholly nothing:  it just happens; for others, nothing that one wishes to ever image or contemplate; for still others, a blend of all these and more

Death’s Connections
      In addition, most people see death as a medium of connection with some larger purpose
      That is, most people die believing that in some way they will live on, be it in the memories of loved ones, the real or imagined impact of their offspring; the ecological cycles of the planet; the acclaim or hatred of others; the works they have done; the people they may have touched, and more.  Many people tend to think, perhaps want to believe that even if at death they are totally and materially gone, the fact of their life is not.  Somehow, some way, they “live” on
      Many people draw connections between death and religion and all that comes with it, including transgression, judgment, and sin; sacrifice; the afterlife; and more.  For them, death carries a transcendent moral value, whereas for those who do not see connections between death and religion, death carries a material and worldly moral value
      Either way, most people view death in moral—broadly speaking—terms
      In addition, religious or not, most people cope with death according to the five stage process identified many years ago by psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross:  denial, anger, negotiation, depression, acceptance (Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying

A History of Death
      Since the dawn of humanity, every people group, tribe, and civilization on the planet has dealt with death.  Until the appearance of writing, however, we had no good way to discern precisely how people were thinking about it.  Archaeological evidence from east Africa, east central Europe, and the ancient near east (generally acknowledged as the epicenters of human emergence and activity) indicates that “primitive” human beings engaged in a variety of funerary rites and rituals to mark the passage from life to death.  Although we do not have written evidence of religion from early Africa or central Europe (we have an abundance from the ancient near east), we can say with reasonable certainty that judging from the artifacts left behind, religion, of some kind, was implicit in these rites and rituals
      (See Marija Gimbutas, The Living Goddesses; George Roux, Ancient Iraq; Will and Ariel Durant, Civilization; The Cambridge Ancient History; Olduvai Gorge, edited by George Leakey and authored by Louis and Mary Leakey; W. H. McNeil, The Rise of the West; and many more.)
      This brings us to the question of the appearance and development of religion.  Many theories have been put forth to explain the appearance of religion in the human race, ranging from Max Müller’s idea of “naturism” (the gods as personification of natural forces); Edward Burnett Tylor’s notion of animism (the idea that spirits inhabit all things); Emile Durkheim’s thought that totemism and ritual constitute the bases of human activity; Sigmund Freud’s contention that religion is a projection of a need for a father figure; and more recently Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins’s (and others) view that religion is an irrational crutch that people invent to feel better about their lives.
      More broadly speaking, however, it seems clear that if religion is to be regarded, as most sociologists and anthropologists think today, as a vehicle by which people seek meaning in their lives, then religion’s connection with death should be apparent.  In the face in the intractability of death, human beings began to look outside of (and occasionally, even with religion, within) themselves to find answers for it.
      (See James George Frazer, The Golden Bough; Max Müller, The Sacred Books of the East; Emile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life; Sigmund Freud, Totem and Taboo, Ego and the Id, Future of an Illusion, Moses and Monotheism; Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity; Rodney Stark, Discovering God; Sam Harris, The End of Faith; Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion; Christopher Hitchens, God is not Great; James Henslin, Sociology; Philip Weiner, ed., Dictionary of the History of Ideas, Volume I, Gregory McMahon, Cultic Boundaries in Ritual; Eliad Mircea, A History of Religious Ideas, Vols 1 -3, trans. Willard Trask; and many more.)
      The earliest written evidences of humanity’s dealings with death appear in the inscriptions of the Old Kingdom of Egypt (roughly 2575 – 2134 B.C.).  Principal among these is the Book of the Dead.  This is a lengthy set of prayers and rituals designed to ensure a supplicant’s safe passage into the afterlife.  It includes penance, confession, petition, and thanksgiving.
      The first surviving genuine meditation (or as some put it, the “discovery” of) on death is the Epic of Gilgamesh.  Versions of Gilgamesh appear in Akkadian, Sumerian, and possibly Hittite, in Sumer, Babylon, Assyria, and Anatolia.  Gilgamesh, likely named for a historical king (king of Uruk) whose name appears in the Sumerian king lists, tells the story of Gilgamesh and Enkidu and their lives together.  They meet after Enkidu, termed a “savage,” finds, through a liaison with a woman, his humanity and, with Gilgamesh, proceeds to roam about the earth.  Their quest is driven ultimately by their mutual anxiety about death and the seemingly ineluctable fact of certain extinction.  In numerous laments similar in form to the early chapters of Job (written later; see chapters 5 - 9), the two men groan, weep, even wail about death and its impact on them and the human race.  Gilgamesh overflows with belief in the presence and activity of the gods, and like the Book of Dead, underscores that the gods ultimately have power over all human life.  (Gilgamesh also contains an account of a global flood, replete with the building of an ark.)
      (See Wallis Budge, trans., Book of the Dead; James Pritchard, editor, Ancient Near Eastern Texts; and The Epic of Gilgamesh, trans. N. K. Sandars.)
      Even as the peoples of the ancient near east (and elsewhere in the world) tried to view death in the compass of some sort of divine presence, the Greek culture and, later, that of Rome, produced history’s first recorded dissents to this approach.  Although most Greek thinkers (Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle) affirmed the idea of God and an afterlife, they did not believe in a personal God, setting the divine instead in their concept of the logos (Phaedo, Phaedrus, On the Soul, and Metaphysics), several Romans rejected the notion of a supernatural and another world.
      The most well known of these is Lucretius, whose De rerum natura (On the Nature of Things), along with Epicurus’ On Nature and Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations assert materiality as the prime source of meaning (although Aurelius talked about the everlasting) and reject any notion of heaven or hell or, for that matter, any afterlife at all
      With the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in 476 and Europe’s descent into the so-called Dark Ages, the Christian Church gained near universal control over the minds and hearts of the continent’s inhabitants.  Consequently, as monks in France, Ireland, and the islands of Iona and Lindsfarne off the eastern coast of England labored to preserve the learning of Greece and Rome, and kings like Charlemagne and others were crowned Holy Roman Emperor, fusing church and state in a lengthy and painful bondage, nearly everyone in Europe came to believe in an afterlife.  The Church taught its people a doctrine of otherworldliness.  This life is unbearably difficult, it told its people, so focus on the next one and see this life as mere prelude to one far better.
      (See Keith Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic; Arthur Lovejoy, The Chain of Being; Sidney Painter, Medieval Society; Jacques le Goff, Medieval Civilization; Jeffrey Russell, Witchcraft in the Middle Ages; Warren Treadgold, A History of the Byzantine State and Society; John Wippel, ed., Medieval Philosophy, and many more.)
      All this was to change with the Renaissance.  Although most Europeans (and Asians as well) continued to believe in God and any afterlife he may provide them, humanity’s focus steadily shifted from the next world to the present one.  Whereas during the Middle Ages, people regarded God’s grace as superior to nature, during the Renaissance, they set nature—themselves and the world—above God’s grace.  Though most people still believed themselves to be creations of God, they also dignified what they considered to be the goodness and majesty of the human being.  Humanity was the crown of creation, able to do, with God’s help, anything.
      (See Jacob Burckhardt, The Civilization of the Renaissance; Frederick Artz, From the Renaissance to Romanticism; Thomas Cahill, How the Irish Saved Civilization; Francis Schaeffer, How Should We Then Live?; Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, The Dignity of Man; Marsilio Ficino, The Soul of Man; Pietro Martire d-Anghiera, The Golden World; James Saslow, trans., The Poetry of Michelangelo; Julia Kristeva, This Incredible Need to Believe; and many more.)
      The Scientific Revolution accelerated this trend.  Although the leading scientists of the age affirmed their belief in God, they came to view the world’s systems, as they discovered them, as the primary impetus for the workings of the planet.  God and his afterlife were still considered to be there, but were largely no longer discussed.  The elements and patterns of astronomy, cosmology, biology, chemistry, all came to be explained without recourse to God.  In addition, the advent of the scientific method tended to render God an assumed yet unprovable assumption.
      This perspective laid the groundwork for the pivotal event in Western history regarding belief in God and the afterlife, the Enlightenment.  With the Enlightenment, many Europeans came to reject the necessity of God (David Hume and Denis Diderot), the physicality of God (Immanuel Kant), the aseity of God (Voltaire), and more.
      In due course, this viewpoint birthed the American and French Revolutions and, eventually, the Industrial Revolution.  In addition, it encouraged the rise of modernity at the close of the nineteenth century, whose ethos was perhaps captured best by Friedrich Nietzsche’s memorable phrase, “God is dead.”
      (See Peter Gay, The Enlightenment; Isaac Newton, Principia; Francis Bacon, Novum Organum; Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone; David Hume, On Miracles, Dialogue Concerning Natural Religion; Denis Diderot, Encyclopedié; Voltaire, Philosophical Dictionary; Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science; Birth of Tragedy, Will  to Power; Peter Watson, Ideas:  A History of Thought and Invention; Jacques Barzun, From Dawn to Decadence; and many more.)
      In the aftermath of World Wars I and II, modernity, along with its successor, postmodernity, has spawned numerous and varied ways of looking at death without religion.  These range from the existentialists (life is meaningless, people are lonely, but they are to live nonetheless and see death as just another authenticating experience); to the postmodernists (life is a social construction in which people live as unknowing or absent selves, but they are to cope responsibly with it); to the generally irreligious (life is here, though we are not sure why, but we are to live it as best we can)
      (See Jean Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness; Martin Heidegger, Being and Time; Richard Rorty, Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature; Bertrand Russell, Why I Am Not a Christian; Jesse Bering, Belief Instinct:  the Psychology of Souls, Destiny, and the Meaning of Life; Jacques Derrida, On Grammatology; Don Cupitt, Taking Leave of God; Slavoj Žižek, The Monstrosity of Christ; Peter Watson, ibid.; and many more.)

Death without Religion
      Responses are varied and often depend on the degree to which a person, irreligious or not, looks at “life” after death
      For the thorough going atheist, there is no question that death is the final end of her conscious existence and that upon death she, or at least her perception of herself, and everything she ever was, will vanish into a vast nothingness (this is not to say that this person may well believe that her life will, from a social or environmental standpoint, continue to affect or shape the world)
      For the irreligious but perhaps not unbelieving (in God) person, death is viewed in a countless number of ways, ranging from a belief that she will occupy some type of “spirit” world; a conviction that she will be consciously sleeping for eternity; the notion that she will be united in some way with deceased loved ones; or many other scenarios and visions
      (See Victor Brombert, Musings on Mortality; Christopher Hitchens, Mortality; Samuel Scheffler, Death and the Afterlife; D. J. Enright, Oxford Book of Death; Carol and Philip Zaleski, eds., The Book of Heaven; Leo Tolstoy, The Death of Ivan Ilyich; and many more.)
      Some examples of these include Susan Sontag’s admission that, “I’m going to die,” only to break down weeping (from Swimming in a Sea of Death); Larry Miller’s (a friend of mine) opinion that, “After I die, I look forward to talking with Albert Einstein;” Eddie Ostyan’s (another friend of mine) thought that, “Now that I am dying, I will go into the spirit world;” Karl Marx’s retort to his handlers, “Go on, get out.  Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough” (from Famous Last Words); John Keats’s, “If I had had time, I would have made myself remember’d” (from a letter to Fanny Brawne); Jim Holt’s suggestion that we have come from nothingness and one day “will go back into nothingness” (from Why Does the World Exist?); to an North American plains Indian who remarked as he passed away, “Nothing lives long, only the earth and the mountains” (from Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee); and many, many more.

Near Death Experiences
      Opinion differs widely on the authenticity of near death experiences.  Most cases, however, reflect some common themes.  These include visions of a bright or white light; feelings or intimations of care and concern; some sort of reunion with loved ones; unawareness of the passage of time; gardens; gates; and more
      Although it is clear that those who have had these experiences indeed experienced them, what is not clear is whether that which they experienced actually and factually happened.  That is, it is uncertain as to whether what these people saw in fact exists.  Moreover, it is also difficult to discern the degree to which their prior beliefs shaped what they claim to have seen or experienced
      (See Susan Blackmore, Dying to Live:  Near Death Experiences; Pim van Lommel, Consciousness Beyond Life; Janice Holden et al, The Handbook of Near Death Experiences; Lynn Vincent and Todd Burpo, Heaven is for Real; Cecil Murphey and Don Piper, 90 Minutes in Heaven; Betty Eadie, Embraced by the Light; and countless others from religious traditions across the globe, including Hinduism, Catholicism, New Age, Native American, and more.)

Judaism
      Initially, as we have observed, humans identified the gods with forces of nature.  Beginning around 1800 B.C., however, one sector of humanity, firmly embedded though it was in this cultural ethos, took a different turn.  In the Hebrews (and their modern day representatives, the Jews), we see the first attempt of humans to understand death with a belief in a God who was not a part of nature but rather the creator of it.
      With a few exceptions, however, Judaism has historically entertained a fairly undeveloped and hazy notion of the afterlife.  Beginning with the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh) (Psalm 16, Isaiah 26, Daniel 12) and continuing into the Dead Sea Scrolls, Talmud (with the Mishnah), and the present day, although most of Judaism has affirmed the idea of an afterlife, it has not precisely defined its contours and content.
      For some Jews today, the afterlife is intertwined with belief in Messiah.  That the Messiah will appear one day confirms the possibility of an afterlife.  For the Orthodox groups that believe Messiah has already come in the form of deceased New York rabbi Menachem Scherr, it is therefore even more incumbent on them to live righteous lives so that they, too, will enter this afterlife.
      For most modern Jews, however, the afterlife is relatively unimportant.  Far more important is that one lives righteously, that one does good deeds without any thought of eternal reward.  Most critical is that one seeks what is best for the world (a conviction embodied in the phrase tikkun olam, the “healing of the world”), to at all times do what is best for all.
      On the other hand, many Jews would like to think that an afterlife exists, that there is something beyond death.  But it does not include Hell.  For most Jews, people suffer their hells, whatever they may be, in this life.  The next life is almost always positive and good.  As one rabbi remarked after Dr. Seuss died, “I imagine Dr. Seuss sitting with the children before God (Shem:  the name) and telling everyone stories.”  On the other hand, many Jews will die believing in God (Yahweh) but not necessarily that they will see him upon death.  The most important thing is to die with faith—even if it does not produce eternal dividends—for affirming the fact of God is the most important thing.  Either way, faith in the “Name” is the path to a good, even possibly eternal life.
      (See the Talmud, in particular, the second and fifth orders (Mo’ed and Qodashim); Hebrew Bible; Tikkun Olam (the journal); Robert Cole, The Spiritual Life of Children; Geza Vermes, trans., The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English)

Hinduism
      Around the time the Hebrews began to coalesce as a people, the Hindu religion started to take shape in India.  Unlike Judaism, which in Abraham has a definable founder, Hinduism has no known founder, but rather emerged gradually, a mix of Indo-European religion (imported by the Aryans), the Indus Valley culture, and indigenous Indian beliefs.  Hinduism’s theological bases are grounded in a series of writings called Vedas (“knowledge).  The Vedas span from 1600 B.C. to A.D. 300, and are a mix of story, history, theology, and instruction.
      As a polytheistic religion, Hinduism does not hold to belief in one god, but many, all at once.  Indeed, many Hindus participate in a different festival for a different god every month of the year.
      Over and above all the gods, however, is Brahman.  Brahman is indefinable, the unconditioned reality, the beginning and end of all things.  Everything comes from Brahman and everything goes into Brahman.  Nothing is outside of Brahman, and everything—good as well as evil, being as well as non-being—is in Brahman.
      For the Hindu, to live is to strive, through doing good deeds and accruing good karma (from a word meaning “to make”), to become one with Brahman.  The Hindu’s goal is to become part of Brahman.  If one dies with insufficient amounts of good karma, she will live again in a different life form.  This cycle will repeat itself over and over (reincarnation or eternal recurrence) until the adherent achieves enough good karma to be holy before Brahman and consequently subsist, as an atman (soul) with Brahman for eternity.  For the Hindu, this is salvation (moksha).
      (A major question here is whether the Hindu is aware that she is living with Brahman for eternity.  Answers vary widely.)
      Unlike the monotheistic Jews, who viewed their lot in the afterlife as dependent on how God judged them, the Hindus see themselves as the arbiters of their eternal destiny.  Their only judges are themselves and their karma.  While sin and holiness are concepts in which they believe, Brahman does not judge the Hindu.  Moreover, although Brahman expresses himself in a personal way through avatars like Krishna or Jesus, Brahman himself is not a personal deity.
      Rather than pursue harmony with a single god, Hindus, like followers of other Asian religions, pursue balance between themselves and the universe (in the beingness of Brahman).  And they are pleased to use anything in other religions to do this:  Hinduism is eclectic, open to a wide range of religious belief.
      (See Wendy Doniger, The Hindus:  An Alternate History; Dominic Goodall, ed., Hindu Scriptures; Mahabharata, Ramayana, Bhagavad Gita, Upanishads)

Buddhism
      Buddhism arose as a revolt against Hinduism in the seventh and eighth centuries B.C.  It sought an alternative to what it perceived as the empty rituals of the latter.  Its founder was a prince named Siddartha (“one who awakens”), now called the Buddha (a title that means “enlightened one”) whose words, although he did not write them down, were subsequently recorded and transmitted by his followers across the Orient.
      Buddhism’s primary goal is the cessation of suffering.  Its Four Noble Truths assert that humans suffer because they crave what is impermanent and that they must therefore pursue the permanent by following the eight fold path of the Buddha.  For the Buddhist, to live is to, through mindful acts and rightful meditation, gradually divest oneself of worldly want or need, to divorce oneself of any attachment to this world and, eventually, achieve salvation (moksha).
      (The Buddha came into his enlightenment after a lengthy journey of inner conquest and self-abnegation.  See Hermann Hesse’s Siddartha for an intriguing, if fanciful look at the Buddha’s quest.)
      Like Hinduism, Buddhism believes in karma and holds that those who through doing good deeds and avoiding the impermanent accrue good karma will move ever closer to achieving Nirvana.  Nirvana is a state of total nothingness (anitta), a permanent state of detachment from all that is permanent.  In this state of nothingness, the adherent enters into emptiness (sunyata), the final and ultimate state and foundation of being.  To experience emptiness is to experience the Absolute or Ultimate Void, the Original Substance (the Pre-Socratic Urstoff), the ground of all that exists, the heart of all that is real.  There are no more attachments.  To be fully empty is to in fact be completely full.
      Although some Buddhists worship the Buddha or various ancillary deities, most Buddhists do not believe in God, nor do most Buddhists believe in heaven or hell.  For the Buddhist, to die rightly is to enter into a blessed state of emptiness in which one is totally free, that is, free from every possible attachment, so free that one finds the beginning of freedom itself.
      Buddhism sees death as a glorious end of all that one has known because only then will one be completely free.  Unlike Hinduism, Buddhism does not believe that each person is an atman, a soul, and that no one is permanent.  When a Buddhist dies, she becomes what she has been all along, but which due to sin and worldly desire, she could not yet be.
      Will a Buddhist be aware that she is in Nirvana?  As with Hindus and Brahman, answers vary, but the consensus seems to be that this person will have some degree of awareness of herself but not in the way that she is presently aware of herself.  But it is not fully clear.
      Also, like Hinduism, Buddhism is in pursuit of not necessarily harmony with the gods, but harmony with oneself and one’s world.  Again, unlike the monotheistic traditions of the Middle  East and West, the Asian religions view universal balance as the most important thing.  Taoism and Jainism echo this sentiment as well.
      (See William de Bary, ed., The Buddhist Tradition; Tibetan Book of the Dead; Dalai Lama, The Art of Happiness; The Universe in a Single Atom; the Purva and Agama (Jain texts); the I Ching; A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, trans. Wing-Tsit Chan; and Lao-Tzu, The Way)

Confucianism
      Confucianism arose around the same time as Buddhism, but in China.  Its founder, Confucius, like Buddha, left no written record, but his followers recorded his sayings and set them in the Analects. 
      Confucius’ primary concern was maintaining harmony and order (like most eastern religions).  To this end, he advocated kindness and respect in all relationships.  Those in relationships are to serve one another and be loyal to them.  The goal of every man is to become a “gentleman” (“Chün-tzu”) a person who is well read and studiously helpful and kind and respectful to all.
      Confucianism’s three guiding principles are jen (goodness); li (observing correct behavior); and i, doing what is fitting or seemly.
      Although Confucianism was more a moral code than a supernatural religion, Confucius talked often about heaven.  Though he never fully defined it, he appeared to frame it within the traditional Chinese commitment to the Mandate of Heaven enjoyed by its rulers.  Confucius likely saw the idea of heaven as a way to connect doing well on earth with a larger ethical ethos.
      (See Analects; Mencius, The Book of Mencius; Stark, ibid.; Wang-Tsit Chan, ibid.)

Christianity
      As Hinduism and Buddhism were spreading across eastern Asia, Israel had returned to Palestine after its seventy year exile in Babylon, and the Roman Empire commenced, Christianity appeared in Palestine.  Jesus, a Jew and its founder, left nothing written.  His followers recorded and transmitted his words after his death, resurrection, and ascension, which occurred around 27 A.D.
      Although Christianity shares much common heritage with Judaism, its vision of the afterlife is singularly more precise, and includes Heaven as well as Hell.  According to Christian belief, if a person has placed her trust in Jesus as Messiah and forgiver of her sin, that person can expect to experience upon death a bodily resurrection and eternal communion in a visible, palpable heaven with God.  Unbelievers will be in Hell.
      Some Christian theologians believe that in the end all people will spend eternity in heaven with God, and others believe that one will enter heaven on the basis of faith and good deeds.  Nonetheless, Christianity is unanimous in affirming the idea of a material, visible (to those in it), and eternal afterlife, be it Heaven or Hell.
      (See the Hebrew Bible, particularly Job and Isaiah 40-66; New Testament, particularly 1 Corinthians 15; 1 Thessalonians 4; Revelation 20-22; John Calvin, Institutes; Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, and many more.)

Islam
      Founded by the prophet Muhammad (“one who praises”) in 600 A.D., Islam, like Judaism and Christianity, is a religion of the book (kitab).  It is rooted in the writings of the Qur’an (“recitation”), which Muslims believe Allah (“God”) revealed, through an angel, to Muhammad over a period of twenty years.  Composed nearly six hundred years after the New Testament and nearly a thousand after the completion of the Old Testament canon, the Qur’an shares much in common with both.  It reveres the same prophets, including Moses, David, Isaiah, and others (along with Jesus), and continually affirms the idea of one and only one God, Allah, who is, as the Qur’an puts it in its opening lines, “Beneficent and Merciful.”
      For the Muslim, death means entrance into the afterlife.  For the most devout the afterlife is Paradise (“pardes” or garden, a word borrowed from Persian).  Paradise is the most beautiful place that anyone could imagine, an idyllic land of green trees, copious fruits, still and soothing waters, and eternal companionship.  Those who enjoy Paradise will experience it in bodily form and will be, upon death, ushered into it by Allah and his angels
      Who will be in Paradise?  On this, Muslims differ.  Some say that all people who believe in God (Allah), including Christians and Jews (people of the book) will be admitted into the Garden.  Others say that only Muslims will enjoy it, and all others will be consigned to the “hellfire.”  Either way, however, Muslims believe that all people, unless they resolutely refuse to believe, will eventually gain entrance into paradise.  Except for a few, Hell is not permanent.  It is a place of purification, a temporary setback on the road to eternity.
      In addition, although Muslims are to do good deeds and thereby gain greater favor with Allah, in the end, Allah will determine, on the basis of belief, who enters Paradise.  If a Muslim sincerely believes and has done everything she can to please Allah she will, even if she has stumbled along the way, gain entrance.  Like the Hebrew and Christian God, Allah looks at the heart.
      Like Judaism and Christianity, Islam views the afterlife as a reward for belief and good deeds.
      (See Qur’an (9:72, 10:10, 11:108), 6:128, 11:106,107, 29:7, 5:18; 6:164, 11:114); Albert Hourani, A History of the Arab Peoples; and Fazlur Rahman, Islam)



*  (@2014, William E. Marsh)

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