Questioning God Through Creation
I once doubted God. That doubt did not come from hatred or rejection, but from a sincere desire to understand: is there truly something above humanity, and if so, how can it be understood in a rational way? Over time, instead of looking outward for answers, I began to reflect on something much closer—what human beings themselves are capable of creating. Humans, through reason and accumulated knowledge, can build remarkably advanced robots. These robots can even be designed to construct production machines, which in turn manufacture tools with increasingly specific functions. This chain of creation alone already reveals how extraordinary humans are as thinking and creative beings.
Yet when this chain is observed more carefully, a clear pattern emerges. No matter how advanced a robot may be, it still operates within the limits of instructions and purposes given by humans. A production machine understands only a single, predefined function. A more specialized machine may produce just one object—say, a doll. And the doll itself lies at the very bottom of this hierarchy: it can do nothing, create nothing, think nothing, and possesses no awareness whatsoever. What appears here is a spectrum of capability and freedom. The higher we move, the greater the ability to act, create, and decide. The lower we move, the more passive and limited existence becomes.
From this perspective, it began to make sense to me that above humanity there could exist an entity at the very peak of this spectrum. If a doll represents absolute incapacity, then at the opposite end must be an existence that is not created, not dependent, and unlimited in ability. Such an entity would not simply be “greater” than humans in degree, but entirely different in kind. God, in this understanding, is the complete inverse of the doll: unmade, unrestricted, and capable of everything.
This idea deepens further when considering dependence and limitation. Every human creation relies on something else—energy, materials, maintenance. Humans themselves depend on nature, physical laws, time, and causes beyond their control. No one chooses their birth or fully commands the reality they inhabit. If everything depends on something else, then logically there must be a final point of independence: a first cause that depends on nothing. God fits naturally into this role—not as a convenient answer, but as a necessary one.
There is also the question of meaning and morality. Machines and robots have no true purpose of their own; they merely execute assigned goals. Humans, however, possess self-awareness. They ask why, create art, define values, and bear moral responsibility. Right and wrong, good and evil, accountability and conscience—these are uniquely human concerns. Their existence suggests a highest standard beyond humanity itself, a source of meaning and value rather than merely power. In this sense, God is not only the greatest being, but the source of purpose itself.
Through this way of thinking, my doubt slowly transformed into understanding. God can do everything. Humans can do many things. Robots can execute complex procedural chains. Machines know only a single task. Dolls can do nothing at all. This hierarchy feels coherent and logical. Even doubt itself has a place within it—only humans can doubt God, because only humans stand in the middle: free enough to question, yet limited enough to seek. In the end, God no longer appeared to me as something opposed to reason, but as the completion of it—a way to understand reality, existence, and humanity’s place within it.
Why God Is Real Yet Unseen
During my university years, I took a course called Fundamentals of Microscopic Analysis. One of the things that left a lasting impression on me was the Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM). What struck me was that the images produced by this microscope are always monochrome, without color. At that moment, I began to realize something simple yet fundamental: color is not an intrinsic property of objects. What we commonly perceive as color is merely the result of interaction between light and matter—reflection, absorption, or transmission of light to our eyes. Without light, color would not exist at all.
Scanning Electron Microscopes were created because not all aspects of reality can be clearly observed using light. Optical microscopes depend on visible light, which is limited by its wavelength and cannot resolve extremely small structures. To overcome this limitation, scientists turned to electrons, which behave like waves with much shorter wavelengths. In an SEM, a focused beam of electrons is scanned across the surface of a sample. When these electrons interact with the atoms on the surface, they produce secondary electrons and other signals. These signals are detected and translated into a detailed, high-resolution image of the sample’s surface. Rather than revealing color, SEM reveals structure, texture, and interaction—showing us that understanding does not always come from seeing more light, but from using the right way to interact with what already exists.
An entity is not called existent because it can be seen, but because it possesses properties. The monochrome images produced by SEM remind us that color is not an inherent feature of objects. Color exists only as a consequence of interaction between light and matter. Without light, there is no color; without interaction, there is nothing for the eye to perceive.
This makes the question of atoms especially interesting. What color does an atom have? What shape does it possess? Intuitively, the answer is that an atom has neither color nor shape in the way we normally imagine. If I were to shrink to the scale of an atom and try to “look” at it, I would likely see nothing at all. Yet if I tried to touch it, my hand would not simply pass through. The atom exists—not because it is visible, but because it has properties: mass, charge, tendencies to interact, and predictable behavior.
If light had never existed, the world would not merely be dark—it would be unknowable. Objects, no matter how large or complex, would have no visual presence at all. Mountains, oceans, and even our own bodies would pass unnoticed by sight, not because they do not exist, but because there would be no medium to reveal them. We would only become aware of existence through direct interaction—through touch, resistance, or effect. This thought reveals an important truth: visibility is not a requirement for existence. Light allows us to perceive reality, but it does not create reality itself. Things exist independently of our ability to see them; light only determines whether they can be visually known.
This is the key insight: an entity is said to exist because it has properties. An oxygen atom is considered real not because we can see it, but because it has distinct characteristics—different from hydrogen, carbon, or iron. It reacts in specific ways, forms certain bonds, and produces measurable effects. Its existence is recognized through its properties, not through visual appearance.
The same principle applies at the macroscopic level. Without light, even large objects would be invisible. We would only become aware of them when we touched them or when they interacted with something we could sense. Oxygen is the clearest everyday example: it is invisible and mostly intangible, yet its existence is undeniable because its properties sustain life. In fact, the absence of oxygen is often felt more strongly than its presence.
This understanding carries an important theological implication. In Islam, one of God’s attributes is wujūd—existence. But existence does not require visibility. If atoms, the foundation of all matter, do not reveal themselves visually yet are undeniably real because of their properties, then there is no contradiction in God being existent without being visible. Existence means possessing being and attributes, not conforming to the limitations of human senses.
Atoms teach us that reality does not depend on our ability to see it. Something exists because it has properties and effects, not because it reflects light. Seen in this way, the concept of existence becomes deeper and more rational: being is not about appearance, but about essence.
Why Did God Create Humans?
The question of why God created humans is one of the oldest questions in human thought. In Islam, this question is not answered with a single simple statement, but through several explanations that complement one another. Muslim scholars and thinkers have long understood that the purpose behind human creation is not shallow, but layered with meaning.
One of the most well-known explanations in Islam is that humans were created to worship God. The Qur’an states that humans and jinn were created so that they may know and worship Him. However, worship here is not limited to ritual acts alone. It also refers to awareness—recognizing God’s existence and living in alignment with His will. In this sense, worship becomes a way for humans to understand their place within a reality far greater than themselves.
Another widely accepted explanation is that humans were created as khalifah (stewards) on Earth. Humans are given intellect, free will, and responsibility to manage the world, maintain balance, and make moral choices. In this view, humans are not passive beings, but active participants in history and existence. The world becomes a trust, and human life a test of how that trust is handled.
There is also the understanding that life itself is a test. Humans are created with the potential for both good and evil, awareness and limitation, in order to reveal how they respond to uncertainty, hardship, and choice. Life, within this framework, is not a punishment, but a process through which meaning and responsibility are formed.
Beyond these established explanations, there is an additional reflection worth considering: it may be that the most fundamental reason God created humans and the universe cannot be fully understood by humans—not because the reason is irrational, but because human perception is limited.
Human understanding is always shaped by the senses through which reality is experienced. We know the world through sight, sound, touch, and other senses. When something exists beyond the reach of these senses, our understanding of it will always be incomplete. This limitation can be clearly illustrated through the analogy of a person who has been blind since birth. Such a person is fully aware that colors exist, because language, science, and society constantly refer to them. They know that the sky is described as blue and fire as red. Yet no matter how long or how vividly colors are explained, true understanding never occurs. Metaphors may approximate it, physics may describe wavelengths, and poetry may try to evoke it, but none of these can replace direct perception. The barrier is not intelligence, but the absence of the sense required to experience color itself.
In the same way, humans may be fully aware that God has a perfectly reasonable and complete purpose in creating humans and the universe. We may grasp fragments of its wisdom through theology, philosophy, and revelation. We may observe its effects and consequences in the world around us. Yet fully understanding that purpose may be impossible, because we do not possess the “existential senses” required to perceive reality from the level of the Creator. We exist as creations, not as the Creator.
Recognizing this limitation makes the question “why did God create humans?” more intellectually honest, not less. Not everything we fail to understand is meaningless. Some things remain beyond understanding simply because we are not equipped to comprehend them. Just as color is inaccessible to the blind, or microscopic reality requires special instruments to be seen, there may be dimensions of existence that lie beyond direct human perception.
We are aware that our senses are limited, and from that awareness arises intellectual humility. If you are interested in exploring this idea further, you can read the article on eunseen existence. In the end, perhaps the most honest conclusion is this: there is a rational reason why God created humans, but human senses and intellect are not sufficient to fully grasp it. And in that realization lies the true position of humanity—beings who question, seek, and recognize their own limits.