As the spacecraft passed to the far side of the Moon, it lost communication with Earth for about forty minutes. There was silence. This silence actually meant something much beyond an ordinary technical interruption. Imagine you are at the furthest point a human can go from Earth, and no one can even hear your voice. These forty minutes were actually a time for contemplation, both for those in space and those on Earth. What are we? Where do we come from and where are we going? One day we too will lose communication with Earth, what will we do then? Mission expert Christina Koch, the first female astronaut on a lunar mission, described the far side of the Moon as follows: “It was absolutely fascinating…It was nothing like the Moon we see from Earth.”

In this mission, the astronauts not only orbited the Moon, but also had the opportunity to observe the lunar surface, including the Mare Orientale, lava plains, and many formations known as the Grand Canyon, so clearly and up close. These observations were not just an image, but also an experience that reshaped humanity’s view of the universe. For example, on April 5, 2026, for the first time in human history, the Orientale Basin of the Moon was fully visible to the human eye. Robots had looked at this region before, but what the human eye saw was completely different.  

A gigantic structure approximately 965 kilometers (600 miles) wide. A place scientists call the Grand Canyon of the Moon. Its age? 3.8 billion years. Science considers this canyon a young formation. Your life is 70 or 80 years; what science calls “young” is measured in billions of years.

This basin was formed by the impact of an asteroid approximately 64 kilometers (40 miles) in diameter. After the impact, the lunar surface collapsed and then rebounded, creating the remarkable concentric rings we see today. A destruction, yet there is order within it. A chaos, yet there is mathematics within it.

The astronauts were not merely looking at a landscape—they were looking at time. Because this basin lies along the terminator, the boundary between the Moon’s near and far sides, it is extremely difficult to observe from Earth. Observing it directly with the human eye allows for a better analysis of its color variations, surface texture, and the effects of light, deepening our understanding of lunar geology. Moreover, this basin is considered one of the best-preserved large impact structures on the Moon, providing valuable clues about the violent collisions that shaped the early Solar System.

Space race

Experts say that Artemis II is not just a space mission, but it also carries a geopolitical message. China’s rapidly developing space program, in particular, shows that this race is heating up again. NASA’s Artemis program is seen as an effort by the US to maintain its leadership in space. However, China is also accelerating its own lunar program and planning manned lunar missions by 2030. This shows that space will be an area of economic and strategic competition in the future.

The Artemis II mission has already ignited this competition by taking humans to the furthest point from Earth. Immediately after breaking the record for the furthest distance humans have ever traveled from Earth, a very emotional moment occurred inside the capsule.  

The crew proposed that a crater on the Moon be named after Carroll Taylor Wiseman, the wife of mission commander Reid Wiseman, who died of cancer in 2020. The proposal was made by Jeremy Hansen, the first non-US citizen to go beyond low Earth orbit and the first Canadian astronaut to participate in a mission around the Moon.  

Speaking to Houston, mission specialist Jeremy Hansen’s voice trembled with emotion as he said:

“We started this journey years ago, and we’ve continued as a close-knit family of astronauts… and in the process, we lost someone we loved. There’s a formation in a very special place on the Moon. On the border of the Moon’s near and far faces… or even a little closer to that border. So, at certain times as the Moon orbits the Earth, we will be able to see this point from Earth.”

He paused… then continued:

“We lost someone we loved. Her name was Carroll. Reid’s wife… Katie and Ellie’s mother.

If you want to find this point, look at the Glushko crater. A little northwest of it, at the same latitude as Ohm, you’ll see a bright spot on the Moon. And we want to name that point Carroll.”  

Following these words, Mission Control fell silent for approximately 45 seconds. It was perhaps one of the most meaningful silences in humanity’s history. In the NASA broadcast, the crew was seen embracing Reid Wiseman. Afterward, the communications officer Jenny Gibbons responded:

“Integrity and Carroll Crater… clearly received. Thank you.”

You may travel to the Moon, but you take your pain with you. You gaze at the stars, yet your memories remain by your side.

Perhaps the greatest truth to understand is this:

We are not merely exploring space; we are exploring ourselves.

An astronaut leaves his wife’s name on a crater that is billions of years old. What will you leave behind in your own life on Earth?

That is why Artemis II is more than a space mission. It is a letter humanity writes to itself. Even as we look at the Moon, we are, in truth, looking at our own story.

The Qur’an makes a powerful appeal at this point:

“It is He who created the heavens in seven layers. You will not see any inconsistency in the creation of the Most Gracious. Turn your gaze and look; can you see any crack?” (al-Mulk, 3) The astronauts looked. They looked again. They found no crack. They only saw a perfect order, and they were amazed.

Now we come to the critical question. What will going to the Moon bring us? Faster internet?

More powerful technology?

A chance for life beyond Earth?

The possibility of discovering new planets?

Yes, these are some of the benefits. But they are not the main point. The main point is the perspective it gives us.

That is why the words of Artemis II astronaut Victor Glover, spoken live during the mission, are so striking: “I think these observations are important because we are so far from Earth and we are looking back at the beauty of creation. I think one of the most important personal perspectives I have here is being able to really see Earth as one whole. And you know, when I read the Bible and look at all the amazing things that have been made for us—we as created beings—I feel like you have an incredible place, like a spaceship. You are talking to us right now because we are in a spaceship very far from Earth. But actually, you are also in a spaceship called ‘Earth’; this ship was created to offer us a place to live in the universe, in the cosmos.”

We always think that we live on Earth. But we live more in a spaceship than on a planet. This ship is such a ship that it knows no borders. It doesn’t require a passport. It doesn’t ask for identification. In contrast, what do we, the inhabitants of the spaceship, do? We start wars. We blow small issues out of proportion. We inflate our egos. We tear one another down.

Let’s be honest:

Is what’s consuming you right now really that significant? Or are you making it bigger than it is? From space, your title is invisible. Your wealth is invisible. Your ego is invisible. None of it can be seen.

What is visible is a magnificent, deep blue sphere.

The Qur’an says elsewhere: “We created everything with a measure.” (al-Qamar, 49)

The universe exists in balance. But what about humanity? The journey to the moon should help humanity rediscover that balance in four ways:

1. It should help you change your perspective. Learn to look at your life from above.

You really need to learn this. Ask yourself this question: “Will this problem still exist when viewed from space?” Most of the time you will see that the answer is a resounding “No.”

2. It should cause you to begin your inner journey. Humanity managed to go to the moon. But it still hasn’t managed to go on its own inner journey. This is a bigger problem. Because a person who conquers the outside world but loses their inner world has actually gained nothing.

3. It should help you stop fighting. There is a photograph of planet Earth taken by the Voyager 1 space probe on February 14, 1990, from a distance of approximately 6 billion kilometers before leaving the Solar System. In this photograph, our world is seen as a “Pale Blue Dot.” Such great conflicts over such a tiny speck are tragicomic. We are all in the same boat. We are drifting in the same void. Yet, we remain of one other. Why?

4. It should make you take the present moment seriously. Because that’s all you truly have. Only the now exists. The past? It’s gone. The future? It has not yet arrived. And yet, you are missing the present moment as well.

In this tiny blue dot suspended in the infinite universe, in this brief life, we are drowning in the crises of our own making. We fight one another, and we fight ourselves. The regrets of the past that haunt us, the endless anxiety about the future, the insatiable pursuit of wealth… You exhaust yourself chasing a title at work, losing sleep over what others think of you. You live under the illusion that everything is so important, as though you will live forever. Your ego has grown so large that it no longer fits even within that pale blue dot.

Yet the truth is unmistakable. One day, we will all disappear—silently. Our names will be forgotten. Our bank accounts will be closed. The titles we once prized will vanish. Not a single trace of our earthly existence will remain.

And that is precisely why the certainty that everything will one day pass away is not a tragedy but one of life’s greatest freedoms. Stop taking yourself, your endless worries, and your inflated ego so seriously. Nothing is as important as you think. All you truly have is the present moment, and even that is quietly slipping through your fingers.

Now look once more at the photographs of Earth taken during the Artemis II mission, and ask yourself: What, exactly, is worth worrying about as you spend your brief life on this tiny rock suspended in the vastness of space?

One evening, as the last light of dusk faded over the Grand Canyon, I found myself in the company of a friend, walking toward the dock that spanned the Colorado River. Our plan was to visit the Havasupai Falls, and we had no other choice but to board a small rowing boat to cross. Yet as we neared the dock, my friend hesitated, a shadow of anxiety crossing his face.

“I can’t,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’m afraid it’ll sink.”

I tried to reassure him. “Think of it this way: there are thousands of boats here on the water, night and day. How many do you think sink each year?”

He paused, calculating. “Maybe one or two,” he conceded, “or perhaps none at all.”

“Then,” I said, “out of all those days in the year, why worry about the slim chance that something might go wrong tonight?”

Still, he hesitated. So, I gently urged him further, “Let’s think about life itself. We’re each given a set span of years, yet any day might be our last. How does this small risk compare to life’s uncertainties?”

He came to his senses, and though his hands still trembled, he allowed me to guide him aboard. Once seated on the small wooden bench, he looked out at the gentle sway of the dark water and held tight to the edge, as if his life depended on it. I leaned in close, choosing my words with care. “Listen, my friend,” I said, “fear is a gift, a sense given to us not to imprison life but to protect it. The Creator gave it to preserve us, not to make us captives of groundless anxieties. Life wasn’t meant to be burdensome, filled with dread, nor to be an endless fight against the shadows of what be.”

He listened, his gaze fixed on the faint stars reflected in the water. I continued, “If there’s a chance, a real risk—say one in two, three, or even five—then yes, caution is wise. It’s a fear that warns, a precaution that has value. But to dwell on a chance as faint as one in twenty, thirty, or forty, that’s not caution; that’s giving fear the reins. When fear is left unchecked like that, it twists life into a form of torment.”

He released his grip slightly and nodded, his expression shifting from one of fear to quiet acceptance. As the boat glided forward, it seemed that the weight on his heart lifted, the once-paralyzing fear replaced by a newfound calm. The night stretched on, cool and quiet, as we sailed across the Colorado River, each of us more at peace than before.

Life is meant to be lived

Just as our rowing boat glided quietly along the waters that evening, the truth settled in: life is meant to be lived, not constrained by irrational fears. Stepping off the boat, the realization dawned on my friend that fear, while an instinctual safeguard, can become a burden when unchecked. This wisdom echoed in the simple observation that we should fear what is reasonable to fear—grounded, tangible threats—not distant shadows.

Some fears are, in fact, rational. Those who avoid cigarettes consider the well-known risks of heart disease and death. Many refrain from sweets or red meat, well aware of links to serious illnesses such as diabetes, cancer, or stroke. Fear of speeding, a key cause of car accidents, is similarly grounded in solid reasoning. But when we step back to examine society’s most widespread fears, an interesting contradiction emerges. Among the most common fears—like spiders, heights, or snakes—their actual threat to our lives pales in comparison to more mundane risks, like heart disease or cancer.

Phobias

Consider arachnophobia, the most common fear of all. In reality, only about six people die from spider venom in the United States each year, yet this is a prevalent terror. The probabilities are not on the side of these fears: there’s a better chance of surviving a shark attack than falling prey to a spider’s bite. Similarly, the fear of flying—statistically safer than driving—is far more common than fear of heart disease, even though it’s the leading cause of death. Fear, then, can misguide us away from real dangers toward distant, unlikely scenarios, ensnaring us in what we cannot easily control.

Individuals with agoraphobia, for example, face a particular challenge, as their condition severely limits their quality of life. During the recent pandemic, many could finally empathize with those trapped in their homes by this fear. Similarly, the claustrophobic will avoid enclosed spaces, even critical medical scans that might save their lives. These conditions highlight the hidden impact of irrational fears, quietly reshaping lives in ways most of us will never see.

Some say the only phobia with practical value is mysophobia—the fear of germs—especially since the pandemic intensified our awareness of bacteria and viruses lurking around us. Those with this phobia avoid handshakes, public restrooms, and even loved ones in social settings. Mysophobia can lead to excessive handwashing, avoiding physical touch, and constant sanitation, often disrupting daily life.

Curiously, a different phobia also deserves mention—trypophobia, the fear of clustered holes. Although it does not align with any logical threat, it can evoke a visceral reaction of disgust and anxiety, from a honeycomb or lotus pod to the pebbled surface of a sidewalk. This curious phobia is widespread, yet cancer phobia ranks lower. And, finally, at twelfth place, sits the fear of death itself.

We fear things that are unlikely to hurt us; spiders, snakes, and heights. You may find many of these fears ridiculous. Some people experience panic attacks in open spaces or when encountering dogs or lightning. Others fear elevators and flying. These fears can severely disrupt people’s lives. Yet, in nearly all cases, the fears themselves are not the direct cause of death. Although the most common cause of death is heart disease, it is not in the top twelve among fears. Cancer, the second most common cause of death, is the eleventh most feared thing. In addition, while aerophobia—the fear of flying—is sometimes linked to the fourth leading cause of death, which is “accidents” (unintentional injuries), this association is misleading. Only about 1000 people die while flying yearly, which is the odds of approximately 1 in 11 million compared with 1.24 million who die in ground-traffic accidents. The odds of being killed in a car crash are approximately 1 in 5,000. However, most people feel safe in their cars, not on a plane. Fear is an emotion, and facts do not easily tame emotions. Individuals with claustrophobia may refuse to get an MRI even if the procedure is essential for diagnosing a medical condition because they are uncomfortable in the tight space of the scanner. Ultimately, fear is more than just an emotion—it’s a lens that distorts reality, a winding path through fields of both danger and illusion. True peace lies in understanding which threats are worth the worry and which can be set aside. Life’s real value unfolds only when we release the imagined perils that bind us and learn to sail freely, even when the waters seem uncertain.

According to the National Lightning Safety Council, 2021 marked a new milestone for the fewest documented lightning-related deaths in the U.S., with only 11 fatalities. Previously, the record low, documented by NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration), was 16 deaths in 2017. Statistically, in a given year, only about one in 30 million Americans will be killed by lightning, underscoring how extraordinarily rare such incidents are. However, the distribution of lightning strikes varies significantly by location, creating unusual and even repeated encounters with this phenomenon for some individuals.

One notable case is that of Jorge Marquez, who, remarkably, survived being struck by lightning for the fifth time in 2002. While he emerged uninjured, he did experience some consequences: his hair was burned in the first incident, and he lost his fillings. Marquez’s experience might seem to defy all probability, yet his circumstances may partially explain his repeated misfortune. As a Cuban farm worker, Marquez likely spends much of his time outdoors, even in inclement weather. Furthermore, Cuba is recognized as one of the most lightning-prone regions globally. Although his line of work and geographical location increase his risk, Marquez still exemplifies an unusually unlucky streak. Another such case of misfortune is that of assistant director Jan Michelini, who was struck by lightning twice while filming Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ in Italy. Although Michelini was not seriously harmed, his double encounter with lightning raises questions about the role of chance—and perhaps divine intervention—in such incidents.

Beyond sheer probability, Marquez and Michelini’s stories touch on a broader human response: fear, especially fear of the uncontrollable. Many people feel heightened anxiety when they cannot influence or control their surroundings. For instance, passengers on airplanes often feel uneasy, as they are not in control; the pilot holds that power. Similarly, people generally prefer to drive rather than be driven, as driving provides a sense of control. Congested traffic becomes frustrating partly because we can’t freely move through it. As a result, limited control often leads to heightened worry and anxiety. Underneath these reactions lies a desire for control over every situation, whether reasonable or not.

Yet this fear of losing control is only one factor in the complex landscape of human anxieties and phobias. Unpredictable and untameable elements—such as lightning, wild animals, and confined spaces—tend to evoke more anxiety than situations we perceive as manageable, like riding a bike, handling a firearm, or taking medications ourselves. Even when these “controllable” activities carry real risks, they may feel safer because they appear to be within our grasp.

The human drive for control can even influence drastic decisions, such as the choice to end one’s life, seen by some as a final attempt to assert control over an otherwise uncertain existence. Moreover, the desire to regulate one’s environment and body often manifests in psychological issues, including eating disorders, addiction, and even suicidal ideation. In eating disorders, individuals obsessively control what enters their bodies, reflecting a need to dominate their physical self. With addiction, a person may be attempting to modulate their internal state and emotions artificially. Each of these struggles highlights how attempts to impose control can, paradoxically, become destructive.

Our quest for control, while rooted in the natural desire to manage risks, can drive us to harmful behaviors when taken to extremes. Understanding this urge might help us approach anxiety with compassion and awareness—recognizing that some things will always be beyond our control, and that acceptance can bring a peace that rigid control cannot.

“The thunder glorifies Him with His praise, and so do the angels, in awe of Him. And He lets loose the thunderbolts and strikes with them whom He wills. Yet they stubbornly argue about God, (notwithstanding all evidence that) He is severe in repelling and retribution” (Qur’an 13:13). This verse reminds us of a higher order beyond our understanding, a power that commands nature itself—thunder, lightning, and all the forces we perceive yet cannot control. As the thunder praises the Creator, even the angels tremble, not out of irrational fear, but out of a reverent awe that aligns them closer to truth. And so, this passage calls us to reflect on what we choose to fear, teaching us that the highest purpose of fear is reverence and humility before the Creator, not to be burdened by the uncertainties of the world.

Say: “Death, from which you flee, will surely meet you in any case. Then you will be returned to the Knower of the Unseen and the witnessed, and He will make you understand all that you were doing (and call you to account)” (62:8). No matter how much we fear or try to evade death, it is an inevitable reality. It will find us, no matter where we hide or how hard we try to avoid it.

The true essence of this message lies in understanding what we should genuinely fear. It is not the uncertainties of life or the inevitability of death, but rather failing to fulfill the duties we are assigned with in this life. The real fear should stem from the accountability of our actions when we stand before our Creator. Life is a test, and its true success is determined by how well we adhere to divine guidance.

When we focus solely on the fears of this world—whether they pertain to failure, loss, or even death—we risk overlooking the greater purpose of our existence. Such fears are fleeting, temporary, and often exaggerated. However, the fear of standing before God unprepared, having neglected His commands, is a fear that is both real and worthy of reflection. Thus, our energies should not be spent running from death but rather preparing for what comes after it. In this preparation lies true peace, as it aligns us with our ultimate purpose and brings clarity to our actions. Let us redirect our fears toward accountability to God, for only in fulfilling His commands can we find salvation and eternal tranquility.

When we anchor our lives in this perspective, fear transforms into wisdom, liberating us from the false dangers conjured by our imagination. Fear, often born from the unknown, becomes a shadow that looms over every step we take. However, when we shift our mindset and accept that uncertainty is a natural and inevitable part of life, we realize that it is not our enemy but an integral part of our growth. Life, in its essence, is unpredictable—a complex dance of joy and sorrow, triumph and failure, discovery and loss. By resisting this truth, we trap ourselves in a cycle of anxiety, trying to control what cannot be controlled. But when we embrace life’s unpredictable journey, something remarkable happens. Fear gives way to peace—a deep, abiding peace that comes from knowing that we are not meant to foresee every turn or avoid every challenge. Courage begins to take root, not as the absence of fear but as the strength to move forward despite it. This courage fuels a faith that empowers us to rise above fleeting worries, grounding us in a profound trust in the process of life itself. In this new perspective, every challenge becomes an opportunity, every setback a lesson, and every unknown a chance to grow. We cease being prisoners of uncertainty and instead welcome it as a companion that propels us toward self-discovery and resilience. By transcending fear, we break free from the illusions of control and security, allowing ourselves to fully embrace the present moment. Life, with all its unpredictability, becomes not something to endure but something to cherish. In the end, it is this freedom—the courage to face life with an open heart—that reveals the true essence of living. Fear dissolves, and in its place, we find the boundless possibility of life itself.

References

http://lightningsafetycouncil.org/

https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/the-top-10-causes-of-death

https://www.fearof.net/

https://www.statista.com/statistics/263443/worldwide-air-traffic-fatalities/

https://theweek.com/articles/462449/odds-are-11-million-1-that-youll-die-plane-crash

An ordinary person has to make up to 35,000 trivial decisions every day. Two hundred twenty-seven of them are about food alone. If you make the wrong choice, it is not a significant event in your life if it comes to your coffee; you make a face and move on. What about your decision to choose your soul mate, health, or work? Errors in decision-making lead you in the wrong directions. Your choices can irreversibly impact not only that day but also the years after.

Some choices can be easier than others. Let’s say there is a bicycle behind one door and an expensive car behind the other. Before asking you which door you would choose, you also know which door the bicycle is behind and which door the car is behind. There is a bicycle at door A and the car door is B. Now let’s ask our question: Which door would you choose? A or B? The answer is pretty obvious: of course, you would choose door B. 

Let’s make the decision a little harder: things might not be as they seem. We have doors A and B again. There is a possibility that there is a bicycle behind door A and a car behind door B. There may or may not be a bicycle and a car behind doors. I don’t think your choice will change. In the end, the chance of them existing or not existing is the same, but because the car’s worth outweighs the bicycle’s worth, it is the most sensible decision.

We can prove what we said by calculating the expected value in probability. First considering door A: there is either a bicycle behind it or there is nothing. The chance of getting a bicycle is ½, and let’s say the bicycle is worth $100; the profit will be $100. If there is no bike behind door A, the probability of this happening is ½ again, but there is no profit this time. In statistics and probability analysis, the expected value is calculated by multiplying each of the possible outcomes by the likelihood each outcome will occur and then summing all of those values. So, expected value in this scenario is calculated as:

E(A) = $100 x (1/2) + $0 x (1/2) = $50.

The expected value of door A is $50. The expected value for door B is also considered and calculated in the same way. Let’s say the price of the car here is $100,000. From the same formula:

E(B) = $100,000 x (1/2) + $0 x (1/2) = $50,000.

The expected value of door B is a thousand times that of door A. If a choice is to be made between two doors, the wise choice will undoubtedly be door B.

Pascal’s stake is very similar to this game of chance. Blaise Pascal was a scientist and mathematician who lived in the 17^th century and developed his own theory of probability. His theory was quite successful. Using his own approach, he showed the existence of God and the necessity of believing in God. Instead of the door metaphor we used, he used two people, one who believed in God and one that didn’t believe in God. We assume that there is a fifty percent chance of God’s existence—that God either exists or he doesn’t. People that believe in God would pass through door B, similar to the example above. Under these conditions, if a person believes in God and God doesn’t exist, they lose or gain nothing. If God does exist, the believers go to Heaven and achieve infinite happiness. When we formulate this situation, we find out that the expected value of believing in God is infinite. We consider the probability of not believing in God is fifty percent, and there is no gain if it is true. On the other side, the existence of God is also fifty percent, and one gains infinity of happiness. Therefore, the expected value of believing in God, E(Believing), is calculated as above in the car/bicycle example:

E(Believing)= 0 x (1/2) + ∞ . (1/2) = ∞

Remember that half of infinity is also infinite.

So, even if God doesn’t exist, the faith that the believer has is priceless.

For those people who choose door A (not believing in God), there is nothing so beneficial for them. Even if they are correct, there is no gain for them in the end. If there is no God, then there is no afterlife. They receive finite pleasure from this life: choosing the bicycle still has some value but choosing the car is way more sensible. What if the other possibility happens? If a person does not believe in God and God exists, they will be deprived of all believers will get. When we think of the second option, that is door A, we formulate the expected value of not believing as:

E(not Believing)= 0 x (1/2) + (-∞) x (1/2) = -∞

Not believing in God also has infinite value but in the opposite way. You are in debt, bankrupt.

One of our choices is God existing, which is fifty percent. Someone may say that it is a high probability. So, despite all the evidence to believe in God, what if we reduce the probability of His existence to one in a thousand? Then the chance that God does not exist is 999/1000. In this case:

Probability of God not existing: 999/1000 and no gain.

Probability of God exists: 1/1000 and the gain is infinite.

E(Believing)= 0 x (999/1000) + (∞) x (1/1000) = ∞

As can be seen, the expected values do not change. Likewise, an atheist will get the same negative infinity. According to possibility calculations, belief in God means an infinite gain in any case. According to mathematics, believing in God, even if the likelihood is one in a googolplex, is still profitable. This topic leaves no room for choice. The chance to gain infinite value is infinite, and the value you lose is finite or, more likely, non-existent. There is no doubt that you have to give everything in this game of life that you are obliged to play. There is no other way to end it than to risk your finite life to win eternal life. Preferring the other option is like resigning from one’s mind.

On the other hand, you may say that the profit is uncertain, and everything is left to luck. But when considering the infinite distance between the certainty of the misery endured and the uncertainty of gain, it makes no sense to argue that the finite life we have should be used to endanger the infinite gain. Everyone who enters a game of chance tries their luck by putting in something sure, but it is always doubtful whether they will win. He puts something limited and negligible in danger without offending the mind. As Pascal states, “Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.”

The following story is related to Pascal’s argument. Someone came to Ali, the Caliph. The man denied resurrection, reckoning in the hereafter, heaven, and hell. He asked Ali:

“Ali, you believe in hereafter; we don’t. You worship, spend a lot of money, and go through the trouble to be saved from hell and enter heaven. Is it worth it? And how do you know that there will be a resurrection after death?”

Ali (R.A.) listened to the man calmly, then gave him the following answer:

“Let’s first assume that what you say is true. If there is no afterlife, we are in the same situation as you. We are even, and there is no gain for you or us. In the meantime, our prayers, good deeds, good morals, and charity we give for the sake of God will not harm us. On the contrary, it will be beneficial for improving the community. But what if there is an afterlife, and what we say turns out to be true? What will you do?”