having no freedom or power to embark upon any good, nor even the slightest awareness of it.
He is also like a man who tumbles from the sky, only to be snatched up by the birds and ripped to shreds.
Those whom the idolaters claim to be gods—who are called upon for benefit—could they all unite to create the weakest of creatures, a mere fly, they would still be incapable of producing it. If they cannot do so collectively, then how could a portion of them? How could a single one out of the hundreds of thousands they worship? More telling still: were a fly to rob them of anything, they would be powerless to recover it. Can weakness be imagined beyond this? And is there any delusion greater than that in which the polytheist is trapped?
Yet, despite this self-deception, frailty, and impotence, his heart is split among numerous deities—like a slave owned by quarrelsome partners who cannot satisfy one without displeasing the others. With them he lives in constant evil and accumulating misery. Were the polytheist to contemplate even a portion of these ruinous realities, he would elevate himself above his present state and realise that, after squandering his religion, he has squandered his intellect and judgment as well.
The monotheist, by contrast, belongs solely to his Lord: he worships none but his Creator and Maker, pins his hopes on none besides Him, and fears no one but Him. His heart is serene and at ease. He knows that this religion is the Truth, that its outcome is the finest of outcomes, and that his ultimate end is goodness, success, and everlasting happiness. Thus he enjoys a wholesome life here, while yearning for an even better life to come.
Allah has likewise portrayed deeds as gardens. He speaks of the deed that is complete and purely for Him—untouched by anything that might spoil it—as a garden situated in the finest and highest location, visited by beneficial breezes, bathed in the full light of the forenoon sun, its midst traversed by flowing, abundant streams. Even if those streams are not copious, they suffice for it like the gentle rain that descends from the sky; and, beyond all this, its soil is the most fertile