In the beginning, there was God. He created the universe and placed humankind on this blue speck of dust in which we call home. We named this home, “earth”. There was no need for a term for God. We all knew who He is. Then we sinned.
In a miraculous turn of events on the plains of Babylonia, languages were formed. Along with it, culture and identity. Confusion sets in, but life must go on. We were dispersed to the ends of the earth, each with our newfound identity. In this vast open land we once called home, things turned foreign.
We knew God, but there’s no way of addressing Him amongst ourselves. We knew our neighbour, but there’s no way of communication. So we closed up into clusters of families, organised ourselves and built nations. Things were hard, but we moved on with it.
We were confused. Why must God do this? We had a common history. We had our story. We were united. We were one. Why must God do this? We begin looking for ways to document it. We need a way to say, “God did this.” How should we go about doing this? Should we start from His attributes? Should we start from His power? We recall the story of the beginning, about how our forefathers said the earth was made. Was it dark? Was it chaotic? Let’s call Him Khaos. Let’s call Him Allah. Let’s call Him Shang Di (上帝). Let’s call it Ahura Mazda. Let’s call Him Purusha. Let’s call Him God.
We turn to worship Him. But with a change in identity, are we even worthy of worship? We questioned ourselves and sought the counsel of our peers. We took what was left of our memory and execute it in our respective land. We burn sacrifices to the Lord in a manner that felt so distant in our vanishing memory.
Though our hearts ache for the damage God had inflicted upon us, we know, deep down, that we need to worship. Only God is worthy of all worship. That’s what we did. We built the statues and altars that enabled worship, and we offered what we thought would please God. We prayed with all our heart that we’d one day be restored to the glory days; that the world would be one, that we would be with God.
We wrote our deepest yearnings in text. We wrote of creation, of identity, and of the after-life. We wrote about God and the manifestations of God. We wrote about life and all the wonders of the universe. We compiled them and taught them to our younger generations. Generations after generations, the stories were passed on. Deep down in our consciousness, we yearn for the love we once had. But on the outward, we’ve lost sight of life. Is this all there is? We incorporated education and political structures. Along with these came legalism. Soon, we forgot what all these were about. We forgot the reason why we were doing all these. We forgot God.
Millenniums passed. Legal structures of worship are now called religion. Religions are woven deep into the cultural fabric of society. The colours of societies are now what we call diversity. And diversity is what we wanted to preserve.
But with the age of enlightenment ever-evolving, we are beginning to understand that there is no need for legal structures of religion. And even if there are, they are targetted on the here-and-now . They will be gone over time when newer discoveries were made. And even then, just as how Frederick Engels has predicted way ahead of his time, there will come a time when there is a “stage of historical development which makes all existing religions superfluous and brings about their disappearance” .
This is as far as what academia can predict. But as deep as the wisdom of academia, the deepest yearnings of the heart remains the same. No matter what happens in future, we will never be able to change our past.
It’d sound absurd to look at the future so as to describe one’s past. It’d sound crazy to look at our common destination to determine our place of origin. But in all truth, this is the harsh truth of reality when we venture beyond the seen and into the infinite; where birth and death are on a single plane, where the destination is our origin, and God is the central figure of existence.
There will come one day where we will all look inward into the depths of our hearts. We will see the common desire we all share; to be in union with the One who made us all. We will all come to the Maker, as diverse as our cultural history has made us, worshipping and serving He who gave us life eternal. Only then, will we return to the glory we once had; to be with the Maker for all eternity.
 – The Principles of Communism, by Frederick Engels. Retrieved at: https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1847/11/prin-com.htm