“Be”: The Monosyllabic Prompt of Divine Creation

God can bring anything into existence in the blink of an eye. Creation, as He affirms, occurs through a single command: “Be,” and it is. No conception, no design, no execution in the human sense is required.
However massive or complex, divine projects bypass the stages we associate with making. Instead, creation unfolds effortlessly, as if all creatures lie in waiting for the call of their Creator. When that call comes, they burst forth into being at the appointed time.
The astonishing power of generative AI to conjure entire digital worlds within seconds from a simple prompt offers a remarkable, albeit limited, glimpse into the awe-inspiring ease with which God creates. While AI operates within the constraints of data, algorithms, and human design, divine creation is bound by nothing.
Yet this immediacy does not imply chaos or lack of planning. On the contrary, the universe presents itself to our eyes as a masterpiece of order, scrupulously conceived, meticulously designed, and flawlessly executed. Every element follows a set course. From the orbiting of planets to the budding of voluntary plants, the fluttering of birds between branches to the stars scattered across the night sky, nothing happens by accident or without purpose.
All things, whether rooted in soil or floating in galaxies, follow a natural rhythm, evolving through cycles of growth, decline, and renewal.
Nature is rhythmically patterned, abundant in diversity, and efficient in function. So how do we reconcile this observable order with the idea that everything is created by a single, instantaneous command, “Be”?
The answer lies in the weight and depth of that word. “Be” is not a hollow utterance. It is a divine decree packed with infinite intricacies. Encoded within that monosyllable is the entirety of a thing’s essence, design, and destiny.
What we observe as a process is simply the unfolding of what was already complete in the word. Just as a seed contains the potential to become a towering tree, or a single drop of sperm encodes the vast complexity of a human being, or a uranium atom holds immense nuclear energy, so too does “Be” contain within it the entirety of a thing’s existence.
Creation from the divine perspective is unlike our understanding. “Be” is not merely a moment of consent; it is the expression of divine knowledge — complete, infinite, and all-encompassing. God’s knowledge includes the past, present, and future of every creature, across every dimension of its existence.
Therefore, nothing lies outside the realm of “Be”. It is, metaphorically, the click of a divine button that initiates a flawless, perfectly measured, and infinitely informed act of creation.
In contrast, our knowledge is fragmented, relative, and ever-changing. We only begin to understand a thing once we encounter it, and our knowledge fades when we stop engaging with it.
We learn by observing, analysing, and interpreting, and our conclusions are shaped by time, context, and the limitations of our perception. We see the colour, feel the shape, taste the flavour, hear the sound, and smell the scent — but all of these are subject to change, and with them, our understanding changes too.
Our pursuit of knowledge begins and ends; it is influenced by countless factors and remains provisional. Even after our time ends, the world continues to evolve and generate meanings, often in ways we never anticipated. Our accumulated knowledge, the vast libraries of interpretation and discovery, are ultimately just attempts to decode the mystery behind that divine command “Be”.
While God’s knowledge is absolute, stable, and all-encompassing — so precise it can be summed up in a single, perfect word — our knowledge is piecemeal and tenuous. That is why, even with oceans of ink, we could not record the full depth of the divine decree. The Qur’an itself tells us that were the seas ink for God’s words, the seas would run dry before the words were exhausted.
We can never reach a final, conclusive understanding of anything, however small or seemingly insignificant. There is always more to discover — new insights that challenge or refine what we already know.
To study even a single particle or living being requires teams of experts, each focusing on different aspects in labs around the world. Because we cannot grasp the whole at once, we divide it into ever-smaller segments.
Thus, we interpret the universe through a thousand lenses — diverse, conditioned, and incomplete. Time, space, context, and personal perspective colour every conclusion. Our knowledge moves from the One into the many, while divine knowledge moves from the many into the One. We dissect in order to understand; God unifies in order to create. Where we divide to comprehend, God merges all distinctions and differences into a unified act of creation.
When we create something, we must start from scratch — assembling parts, mixing components in precise ratios, ensuring every element is carefully constructed. But when Allah creates, no such deliberate effort is needed. His act of creation already contains all the necessary elements in perfect proportion and harmony. It is not a top-down or bottom-up process — it simply is.
Our journey in the pursuit of knowledge is a return from fragmentation to unity, from appearances to essence, from the many to the One.
Like our lives, our knowledge has a beginning and an end. It requires a location and context — it is always in something or of something. But God is beyond time and space, unbound by the dimensions in which we dwell and through which we understand. Our entire pursuit — of science, philosophy, art, and spirituality — is a striving to glimpse the depth of meaning in that single, divine word: “Be.”
The Wonders of Creation
At first glance, it seems we are now privy to many of the secrets of ourselves and the universe, thanks to the extraordinary advances in science and technology. Through remarkable feats of intellect, we have achieved a degree of mastery over the natural world — though not without dire consequences that threaten the sustainability of our habitat.
Our understanding of the properties of matter has enabled us to discover, design, and develop what was once unimaginable. The high-speed information networks we now navigate with ease were inaccessible mysteries to our predecessors just a few decades ago.
We are producing tools and ideas that not only make our lives more comfortable but are also rendering many long-celebrated skills and professions obsolete. Some even speculate that human innovation has reached its zenith, heralding the twilight of civilization.
Every generation believes, often smugly, that it is more advanced than the previous one. After all, we inherit all that earlier generations knew and then build upon it. With superior tools and greater expertise, we can confront challenges the past could not.
And yet, despite this unprecedented explosion of knowledge and creativity, we still lack satisfying answers to age-old existential questions — the proverbial chicken-and-egg riddles of life, death, and the origins of the universe.
What lies behind the curtains of existence — before birth and beyond death — remains shrouded in mystery. A confusing blend of theism, atheism, creationism, evolutionism, scientific theories, pseudoscientific claims, and superstition scramble for dominance.
While genetic engineering and biotechnology have advanced dramatically — bringing us close to decoding the mechanics of life — we are still unable to bridge the final gap: the transformation of non-living matter into life.
We may now be able to identify the essential components of life, assemble them correctly in precise conditions, and wait for life to emerge. Yet, something vital remains missing. What animates these lifeless elements into a living being remains a profound mystery. We understand how life functions and can simulate its processes to an extent, but how this intrinsic rhythm of nature began remains unanswered.
This rhythm of creation pulses continuously within us — whether or not we are aware of it. It echoes in the heartbeat ticking some 70 times a minute, in the breath cycling oxygen and carbon dioxide, in the blood coursing through arteries and veins, in the digestion of food, and in the ceaseless transmission of information by neurons. Millions of cells die and regenerate every moment, silently maintaining the miracle we call life.
The most intricate act of human creativity occurs in procreation — beginning with the union of sperm and egg, leading to the formation of an embryo, developing into a fetus, and culminating in the birth of a fully formed human being.
Medical science has made impressive strides in understanding and even assisting this process, but its inner workings remain fundamentally beyond our control. The deeper we delve, the broader the horizon becomes, with new frontiers of inquiry constantly emerging.
Creation is a phenomenon that permeates every particle of the universe, manifesting in a staggering diversity of life — from the microscopic amoeba to the complex human, from fragile gnats to powerful beasts. Our knowledge merely attempts to make sense of this process through our limited senses. The wonders of creation unfold in myriad ways: in the quiet bloom of a flower or the roaring chaos of ocean waves; in the whisper of a breeze or the crash of thunder; in the scent of blossoms, the taste of food, the softness of silk, or the allure of human intimacy. Only living beings can experience these marvels — and life, to be fully appreciated, demands engagement with all these sensations.
Moreover, we are surrounded by countless tiny creatures — flies, bees, mosquitoes, earthworms — that form an incredible, interdependent ecosystem. Many are invisible to the naked eye, yet each one carries within it the miracle of life — a force we still barely understand. We often take life for granted because, to us, being alive is the norm and death the anomaly.
Yet none of us has memory of a time before we were alive, nor knowledge of what lies beyond death. This breeds a paradox: familiarity with life dulls our awe of it, while unfamiliarity with death heightens its mystique.
In reality, it is the reverse. Life is the anomaly, the extraordinary. Death is the natural conclusion, the inevitable stillness that follows the vibrant unpredictability of life. Life is dynamic, colorful, and filled with twists, turns, and uncertainties. Yet because we are immersed in it for so long, we begin to lose our sense of wonder, imagining that true magic lies elsewhere.
We exist within this infinite cycle of creation — sometimes actively participating in it, sometimes passively observing it, and often oblivious to it. And the more we learn, the more its complexity humbles us.
This is why, despite our proximity to it, life remains an enigma. Creation is a realm we cannot penetrate. We still do not know how life originates, and this alone forces us to concede that creation is a domain to which we are denied access. No matter how advanced human knowledge, science, or technology becomes, we remain outsiders to the act of creation.
It is through this lens — the exclusivity of creation — that the Qur’an draws our attention to the exclusivity of the Creator. It asserts that creation is a divine prerogative, a territory none but God may enter.
The Qur’an presents vivid examples of creation for our contemplation: how camels are fashioned, how the heavens are raised, mountains anchored, and the earth spread — all from nothingness.
The title Al-Khaliq — “The Creator” — belongs exclusively to Allah, who brings into being a dazzling array of things, from absolute nothing, in forms, functions, and designs as He wills.
If creation is the exclusive domain of the Creator, then attributing it to anyone or anything else is both irrational and spiritually misleading. No creature, however elevated, can claim the status of the Creator while still remaining a creation. Ascribing the credit of creation to others is akin to spiritual copyright infringement — a dangerous path that leads to the proliferation of false beliefs and exploitation of human ignorance.
The Qur’an states unequivocally: “Indeed, those you invoke besides Allah will never create [as much as] a fly, even if they gathered together for that purpose. And if the fly should steal away something from them, they could not recover it from it. Weak are the pursuer and pursued.” (Surah Al-Hajj: 73)
This striking metaphor underscores the absurdity of assigning divine attributes to anything other than the One who truly possesses them. If God is the one who creates all things from nothing and sustains their existence, then only He is worthy of worship. Even the collective might of all false gods could not bring into being the smallest speck of life.
It is this singular ability — to create from nothing, to determine destinies, to give life and cause death — that establishes Allah as the one and only Creator.
The Mystery of Life: Beyond Biological Boundaries
If the mystery of death can be attributed to our lack of direct experience with it, what, then, can explain the enigma of life — something we so intimately live and breathe every moment, yet understand so little about?
We have managed to decipher much of the machinery of our bodily functions, tracing the interplay of organs, cells, and biochemical processes from the microscopic to the macroscopic. But the spark that sets this intricate system in motion — the vital force that animates inert matter — remains elusive. We do not know from where it originates or where it disappears when life ceases and the body falls still.
Life pulses throughout the universe in countless forms and manifestations — from the simplest unicellular organisms to the most complex multicellular beings. Plants, animals, and humans serve as diverse instruments through which the primordial symphony of life is played, producing an astonishing variety of rhythms and harmonies.
Yet, precisely because life is so familiar and ubiquitous, we often fail to appreciate just how extraordinary a phenomenon it truly is. We have become accustomed to its patterns and processes. Seeds sprout into plants. Birds and reptiles hatch from eggs. Humans and mammals develop from embryos formed through the fusion of sperm and egg. These have become “natural” to us — biological norms that we seldom question.
But what renders these methods “natural”? Who scripted these processes and set them in motion? Are these biological mechanisms the only possible modes through which life can originate?
This is the central point of debate between creationists and evolutionists: whether life is a product of divine design or the result of nature’s blind selection. But beyond that, a more profound question arises — could the One who established this biological order have chosen to bring life into existence through entirely different means?
Can Life be Created in a Non-Biological Manner?
The answer is affirmed in the case of Prophet Isa (Jesus, peace be upon him), who, according to Islamic belief, was born to the Virgin Mary without a biological father. His miraculous birth defied the conventional laws of human reproduction and has been the basis for claims of divinity. However, the Qur’an directly challenges the logic behind such claims.
The Qur’an draws a striking parallel between the miraculous birth of Jesus and the even more unique creation of Adam (peace be upon him), who was brought into existence without either parent. While Jesus was born to a mother without the involvement of a male, Adam had neither mother nor father. If Jesus’ birth qualifies him to be called the “Son of God,” then, by that logic, Adam would be even more deserving of such a title.
Yet the Qur’an makes it clear that both were created through Divine Will. Adam was formed from clay, shaped by the Creator, and brought to life by a Divine command: “Be,” and he was. Jesus, too, was born through Divine Will, his soul placed into Mary’s womb by the word of God. But his extraordinary birth — though unlike that of ordinary humans — does not place him outside the bounds of creation or elevate him to the status of a creator.
Thus, Jesus’ birth was indeed extraordinary, but only in comparison to the biological patterns familiar to us. In the eyes of God, who created Adam from nothingness and who is not bound by the systems He created, Jesus’ birth is neither anomalous nor divine — it is simply another demonstration of divine power.
Both cases — Adam and Jesus — serve as reminders of the Creator’s freedom and creativity in bringing life into existence. Adam was the first human, formed without precedent or biological process. Jesus, a descendant of Adam, was given life in a way that defied human expectations, reaffirming the message that God is not constrained by the mechanisms we know.
These examples are not merely theological points, but philosophical reminders that the processes we observe are not exhaustive of reality. The biological pathways we now take for granted are only one method among many possible ones. God may bring life into existence through any means He chooses — biological or otherwise. There are countless creatures whose creation we know nothing about and countless processes beyond our comprehension.
It is a mistake to assume that the Creator must operate within the patterns familiar to His creation. God is the author of all systems, yet He is not bound by any. He can create with a word. He can design without precedent. And He can sustain without visible means.
The miraculous births of Adam and Jesus serve as profound illustrations of the limitless possibilities of creation and the absolute sovereignty of the Creator. These examples remind us that creation itself is a divine prerogative — an exclusive domain of God, who alone has the knowledge, power, and will to bring forth life in all its diversity and wonder.
The Enigma of Death and Resurrection
The question of death and resurrection has long baffled the human mind. It is one of the great mysteries of existence — inescapable, yet shrouded in uncertainty. We have no reliable first-hand account of death; the dead do not speak back to the living.
Even the most prolific writers, who filled volumes with thoughts and ideas during their lifetimes, left not a single word about their experience of death. One wonders: how must they now look back at life from the vantage point of death?
To the living, death is both terrifying and strangely captivating. Our curiosity about it remains unresolved, destined to be answered only when we experience it ourselves. Death is the ultimate threshold, the final point of no return — beyond which human knowledge cannot extend. When we peer ahead, we see nothing but the thickening darkness that engulfs the vast, silent fields of death.
Death is inaccessible from life; only those who have passed through it can enter that nebulous realm. But how are the dead brought back to life? When does resurrection occur? How are individuals, cities, nations, and civilizations — once vibrant but now reduced to dust and ruin — restored?
These were the questions that haunted the mind of a lone traveler — Uzair — while passing through the ruins of a desolate township. He wondered: How can God bring life back to this place, long since dead? His questions were answered in a way more profound than he could have imagined — not through mere explanation, but through experience. Since death and resurrection cannot be fully understood through intellect alone, Uzair was made to live through it.
God caused him to die for a hundred years. During that time, he felt no passage of time. When he was resurrected and asked how long he thought he had remained in that state, he answered, “A day, or part of a day.”
He was astonished to learn it had been a full century. Even more remarkable was that while his food and drink had not decayed, the mule he had been riding had decomposed completely. God then showed him the process of resurrection firsthand — how bones are reassembled and covered with flesh, brought back to life by divine command. After this experience, Uzair had no doubt left in his heart about God’s power to resurrect the dead.
This story also subtly touches on the relativity of time and space. To Uzair, the ruined city symbolized the past, while the idea of its resurrection belonged to the distant future. Yet, when he died and was resurrected, the linear boundaries of time collapsed. What we consider to be past, present, and future became jumbled — demonstrating that divine time operates on a different axis.
His perception of time during death — believing it was only a day — shows that the time of the dead passes at a rate completely unlike ours. Meanwhile, the preservation of his food and drink highlights God’s absolute control over both time and matter. He can accelerate or suspend the passage of time and the effects of decay as He wills.
This insight helps resolve questions many ponder about the afterlife: What happens to those who died thousands of years ago? Will they be resurrected together with those who die in the future? Divine time renders such concerns moot. The conventions of linear time and chronology do not apply to God’s script of creation and resurrection.
Ultimately, creation and resurrection are within God’s exclusive domain. We should not burden ourselves with the ‘how’ of His process. God is not bound by the systems we observe; He is not obligated to follow the rules we understand. To impose our limited frameworks on His infinite power is not just arrogant — it is absurd. His creative artistry defies human imagination, and it is not our place to dictate how the Creator should work.
A similar discussion is found in the concluding verses of Surah Ya-Sin, where God addresses the paradox of human skepticism. A man — created from a mere drop of fluid — dares to question the possibility of resurrection. Forgetting his own origins, he cynically asks how decayed bones can be restored to life.
God responds with clarity and power: “He who created them the first time is capable of resurrecting them. He has complete knowledge of all creation.” The logic is undeniable — if God created man from nothing, from a microscopic drop of semen, then surely He can recreate him from bones, which are far more substantial. In fact, creating something from nothing is more wondrous than reassembling it from existing parts.
If we accept the initial act of creation — from fluid to flesh — as logical and natural, how can we then deny the plausibility of resurrection from bones? God, the Master Creator, is not limited to one method. He creates in forms and processes we cannot even begin to comprehend. The transformations we see in nature — from seeds to towering trees, from green twigs to dry firewood, and from organic matter to fossil fuels — are all part of His grand design.
The argument concludes with a rhetorical question steeped in divine sarcasm: “Is not He who created the heavens and the earth capable of creating the like of them?” Indeed, He is. For He is the All-Wise Creator. When He wills something to be, He merely says: “Be!” — and it is.
If God can create the vast cosmos — the galaxies, the stars, the heavens and the earth — how can we doubt His ability to recreate human beings? The chapter closes with a powerful declaration: “So exalted is He in whose hand is the dominion of all things, and to Him you will be returned.”
Let us stop speculating on how resurrection will happen. It is enough to know that it will happen. Instead of debating the mechanics, let us prepare for the certainty of that ultimate return.
The article was originally published at Medium and it can be accessed here.
Topics: Islam And Science, Quranic Reflections On Creation
Related Suggestions