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Table of Contents
Introduction
Theology can be extremely complex. Thousands of years of history have produced books, commentaries, schools of thought, interpretations, religious laws, and debates that have sought to understand GOD and the relationship between the Creator and His creation. This entire heritage can be of immense value. Yet, when we return to the fundamental principles of Scripture, we discover something surprisingly simple: seek GOD, do good, turn away from evil, and improve ourselves.
Perhaps it is precisely this simplicity that we sometimes risk losing.
Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have developed different theological traditions, yet throughout their Scriptures we continually encounter the principle of personal responsibility before GOD. No rabbi, however wise; no priest, however holy; no imam, however devout, can live our lives for us. They can teach, advise, correct, pray with us, and show us a path, but no one can do good in our place, repent in our place, or answer to GOD for our choices.
This principle applies equally to women and men. Before GOD, there is no part of humanity exempt from spiritual responsibility, nor any part excluded from the possibility of rising higher. Every human being receives a life, opportunities, trials, and a particular path. And precisely because our paths are different, it makes little sense to measure our own lives by using the lives of others as our standard.
What matters is not only where we started. What matters above all is the direction in which we are going.
A person may have spent years committing even very serious wrongs, living in selfishness, falsehood, or injustice. The evil committed still carries consequences and, whenever possible, must be repaired: repentance does not automatically turn an injustice into something that never happened. But as long as the possibility of choosing remains, so does the possibility of changing direction. The great spiritual question then becomes remarkably simple: what am I doing today, and what do I intend to sow from this moment forward?
Moses continually calls Israel to choose between the way of life and the way of death. Jesus calls for repentance and the transformation of the heart. Muhammad calls a community to purify itself, correct itself, and submit its will to GOD. Their missions belong to different times and contexts, yet all of them place the human being before the seriousness of their own choices.
Life, then, can be imagined as a ladder.
We do not all begin on the same rung, nor do we all encounter the same difficulties. We may climb, stop, and even fall. But a fall does not necessarily have to be the end of the journey. We can rise again and continue climbing.
This image will accompany us throughout our study. We will encounter it in the ancient Ladder of Jacob and in later Jewish mysticism; in the spiritual ladders developed within Christianity and its paths toward holiness; and in the Islamic tradition of purification of the soul and the spiritual stations through which a person seeks to draw ever closer to GOD.
And perhaps it is precisely here that we can rediscover a Simple Theology: not a theology poor in thought, but a theology capable of bringing thought back to what is essential.
Seek GOD. Improve yourself. Do good. Be patient. And keep climbing.
Do Good and Good Will Return
There is a principle as simple as it is ancient: what we sow, sooner or later, we reap.
This does not mean that every good action must immediately produce a material benefit, nor that every hardship is the consequence of wrongdoing. It means something deeper: before GOD, goodness is never wasted. Every act of justice, every act of mercy, every rejection of selfishness, every time we choose truth instead of falsehood, we are sowing something that becomes part of our journey.
This principle runs throughout Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, although expressed in different ways.
In the Torah, we find one of its simplest formulations in the choice placed before Israel:
“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil.”
(Deuteronomy 30:15)
A few verses later comes the invitation: “Therefore choose life” (Deuteronomy 30:19).
The choice comes before the consequence. The Torah does not present existence as morally indifferent: there are different paths, and different paths lead in different directions. Deuteronomy 28 develops this relationship extensively through the language of blessings and the consequences of disobedience.
The Psalms also return repeatedly to this principle. The very first Psalm describes two ways: the way of those who seek righteousness and the way of the wicked. It does not promise that every day in the life of a righteous person will be easy, but compares those who follow the way of GOD to a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season (Psalm 1:3).
In its season. This detail is fundamental.
In Christianity: What We Sow, We Will Reap
Jesus continually draws attention to the consequences of our actions. In the Sermon on the Mount, he teaches:
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.”
(Matthew 5:7)
And again:
“With the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
(Matthew 7:2)
Paul would later use the very image of sowing:
“Whatever one sows, that will he also reap.”
(Galatians 6:7)
We are therefore dealing with something more than a simple invitation to be “good.” There is a spiritual responsibility. Our actions transform us and produce consequences that can extend far beyond the moment in which they are performed.
Christian holiness is also born from this daily perseverance. We do not become righteous people through one extraordinary action, but through the repetition of right choices: forgiving when it would be easier to hate, sharing when it would be easier to keep, telling the truth when lying would be more convenient.
In Islam: No Good Is Ever Lost
The Qur’an expresses this principle with extraordinary clarity:
“So whoever does an atom’s weight of good will see it.”
(Qur’an 99:7)
And immediately afterward:
“And whoever does an atom’s weight of evil will see it.”
(Qur’an 99:8)
It is difficult to imagine a simpler expression of personal responsibility.
Even an apparently insignificant amount of good matters before GOD.
The Qur’an also repeatedly returns to the relationship between faith, righteousness, and divine reward. In 16:97, it states that whoever acts righteously, “whether male or female,” while being a believer, will receive from GOD a good life and a reward according to the best of what they have done.
This verse is particularly important because it removes any possible ambiguity: the spiritual journey concerns women and men equally.
GOD Is Not a Merchant
We must, however, avoid one mistake.
Doing good does not mean entering into a commercial contract with GOD: I have done this, therefore You must now give me that.
Faith does not work that way.
We may help someone and receive no gratitude. We may act righteously and still be treated unjustly. We may pray and nevertheless go through a difficult trial. If we demanded an immediate reward for every good action, we would turn spirituality into bookkeeping.
Divine reciprocity is far greater than that.
GOD determines the time, the form, and the measure of the blessing.
Sometimes good returns through a visible consequence. At other times, through a door that opens many years later. Sometimes it returns through the inner transformation of the person. And from a religious perspective, the story of existence does not necessarily end with what we are able to see during this earthly life.
For this reason, patience is an integral part of the journey.
A person who plants a seed does not dig it up the following day to check why it has not yet become a tree. They water it, protect it, and wait.
So it should be with our relationship with goodness.
Sow good even when no one sees you.
Sow good even when no one thanks you.
Sow good even when you cannot yet understand the outcome.
Because if we truly believe that GOD is just, we must also believe that no good seed can ultimately be lost.
And once we begin to understand this principle, we can take the next step: recognizing that spiritual growth does not happen all at once.
Life is a ladder. And every good choice can become a rung.
Life Is a Ladder Toward GOD
If the good we sow has value, then spiritual life cannot be something static. We are called to grow.
Perhaps one of the most beautiful images representing this growth already appears in the Torah, in Jacob’s dream:
“And behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and its top reached to heaven; and behold, the angels of GOD were ascending and descending on it.”
(Genesis 28:12)
The ladder symbolically joins two realities: the earth on which we live and the heaven toward which we look.
Jacob does not simply see heaven. He sees something connecting what is below with what is above. Over the centuries, this image would become particularly fruitful within spirituality and mysticism.
A ladder, in fact, already contains a small theology of its own.
There is a point from which we begin. There is a direction. There are rungs. And above all, we cannot reach the highest rung without passing through those that come before it.
In Judaism: Rising, Repairing, Drawing Nearer
Within Jewish tradition, Jacob’s Ladder has received many interpretations. There is no single definitive reading: it has been understood in relation to the history of Israel, prayer, the Temple, angels, and also the relationship between the earthly and heavenly realms.
With the development of Jewish mysticism, particularly Kabbalah, the image of the Tree of Life, structured through the ten Sefirot, also became highly significant.
The Sefirot should not simply be reduced to ten rungs that a person must climb. Within Kabbalistic tradition, they represent far more complex realities: modes through which divine action and attributes are manifested and through which the relationship between GOD, creation, and existence is contemplated.
Nevertheless, the Tree of Life also offers an extraordinary representation of the journey of spiritual transformation.
Concepts such as Chesed, mercy and generous love; Gevurah, strength, restraint, and discipline; and Tiferet, harmony and beauty, can also become a mirror through which we examine ourselves.
Generosity without discipline can produce disorder. Strictness without mercy can produce cruelty. To grow means learning to bring our qualities into proper order and direct them toward what is good.
Connected to this is another major concept of Jewish mysticism: tikkun, repair or rectification.
Before attempting to repair the entire world, we must learn to repair what we can within ourselves and around us.
One rung at a time.
In Christianity: The Ladder of Holiness
Christianity developed this image in a remarkably explicit way.
In Chapter VII of the Rule of Saint Benedict, devoted to humility, Jacob’s Ladder is applied directly to spiritual life. Benedict interprets that ladder as an image of our present existence and describes a succession of steps through which a person learns humility and draws nearer to GOD.
The ladder, therefore, is no longer merely something Jacob saw thousands of years ago.
It becomes our life.
An even more explicit example is Saint John Climacus, a monk who lived between the sixth and seventh centuries. His most famous work is appropriately called The Ladder of Divine Ascent.
John describes thirty steps along the spiritual journey. A person progressively struggles against the passions, learns self-mastery, develops virtue, grows in prayer, and advances toward faith, hope, and love.
For our purposes, it is not necessary to turn these thirty steps into a rigid formula. What matters is the underlying insight:
holiness is a journey.
No one wakes up one morning completely transformed. Even those who would later be remembered as saints struggled against weaknesses, temptations, fears, and falls.
The difference is that they continued climbing.
In Islam: Purifying the Soul and Passing Through the Stations
Islam also possesses a profoundly developed language of spiritual growth.
The Qur’an states:
“Indeed, GOD does not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.”
(Qur’an 13:11)
This verse contains an immense principle.
We often ask GOD to change what exists around us. Yet the Qur’an first directs our attention toward what must change within us.
From this necessity comes the great Islamic theme of tazkiyat al-nafs, the purification of the soul.
The Qur’an states:
“Successful indeed is the one who purifies it, and failed indeed is the one who corrupts it.”
(Qur’an 91:9–10)
Islamic spiritual growth, therefore, does not consist merely in belonging to a religious community. It requires concrete work upon oneself: fighting pride, restraining greed, developing patience, gratitude, sincerity, mercy, and trust in GOD.
Within Islamic spirituality, and particularly within Sufism, we also encounter the concept of the maqāmāt, the “stations” on the journey toward GOD.
Their classifications differ among various masters, but recurring stations include repentance (tawbah), patience (sabr), gratitude (shukr), trust in GOD (tawakkul), and other stages of progressive purification.
Here too, therefore, we find a journey.
Not necessarily a ladder represented graphically, but something very similar in essence: a spiritual condition is passed through, internalized, and becomes preparation for what follows.
Muhammad himself did not build a new community merely through rules and institutions. Qur’anic preaching first demanded moral transformation: abandoning idolatry, protecting orphans, practicing charity, restraining injustice, creating solidarity among believers, praying, fasting, and learning to place trust in GOD.
The transformation of the community proceeded together with the transformation of the people who composed it.
Three Traditions, Three Languages, One Shared Responsibility
We should not claim that the Jewish Sefirot, Christian sanctification, and the Islamic maqāmāt are the same doctrine.
They are not.
They arose in different periods, respond to different theological frameworks, and should be respected in their distinctiveness.
Yet we can observe something remarkable.
Jewish mysticism speaks of rectification and elevation.
Christianity speaks of conversion, virtue, and sanctification.
Islam speaks of purification of the soul and spiritual stations.
Three different languages seem to remind us of one shared responsibility:
do not remain spiritually in the same place where you were yesterday.
Nor should we constantly compare our rung with that of others. A person may be further ahead in one aspect of life and much further behind in another. Someone struggles against greed; someone else against anger. One person must learn to forgive; another must learn discipline; another still must find the courage to acknowledge their own mistakes.
The fundamental question is not:
How high am I compared with others?
The question is:
Am I climbing compared with who I was yesterday?
And here theology once again becomes simple.
We are not required to reach the top of the ladder today.
We are asked to face the next rung.
Correct something. Forgive someone. Repair a wrong. Help someone in need. Control a passion. Speak a difficult truth. Become more just. Pray with greater sincerity.
Then another rung.
And another.
Because perhaps spiritual growth does not consist in suddenly becoming perfect, but in never ceasing to climb toward GOD.
Do Not Judge the Story Before Its End
One of the easiest mistakes to make is to judge an entire existence by looking at only one moment of it.
We see a righteous person suffering and ask: where is GOD’s justice?
We see a dishonest person prospering and think: what is the point of doing good?
But both conclusions arise from the same mistake: we are judging a story before we know its end.
If we truly believe in GOD, we must necessarily broaden our horizon. Divine justice cannot be measured solely by what happens today, this year, or even throughout the entire span of our earthly life.
The Abrahamic traditions, in fact, ask us to look beyond.
In Judaism: Job and a Story That Must Be Read to the End
Job is perhaps one of the most powerful examples.
He is described as a person of integrity and righteousness, yet he loses his possessions, his children, and his health. If we stopped reading halfway through the book, we might reach a terrible conclusion: being righteous is of no use.
But the Book of Job does not end there.
Job passes through suffering, protests, questions GOD, and reveals all the possible fragility of a human being. In the end, however, his story changes once again:
“The LORD restored the fortunes of Job […] and gave Job twice as much as he had before.”
(Job 42:10)
Job once again receives family, prosperity, and a long life.
This does not mean that the children he lost can simply be replaced, nor that his previous suffering becomes irrelevant. The book is far more profound than a simple equation between suffering and reward.
But it teaches us at least something fundamental for our argument:
we could not have understood Job’s story by stopping halfway through it.
Jewish tradition also developed further reflection on what happens beyond a single earthly existence.
Belief in the resurrection of the dead, Techiyat HaMetim, would become an important element of Rabbinic Judaism. In parallel, certain currents of Jewish mysticism would develop the concept of gilgul ha-neshamot, the transmigration or reincarnation of souls.
In Kabbalah, and particularly in the later Lurianic tradition, gilgul can be connected to the process of tikkun: a soul may still have something to rectify, complete, or elevate.
It is important to distinguish these two ideas. Resurrection and reincarnation are not the same doctrine, and gilgul does not represent a uniform belief throughout Judaism.
Yet this mystical tradition introduces a fascinating possibility: perhaps the journey of the soul is longer than what we are able to observe within a single lifetime.
From this perspective, death does not necessarily interrupt the ladder.
In Christianity: The Cross Is Not the End of the Story
If there is one story that cannot be judged before its conclusion, it is the story of Jesus.
Seen only from Golgotha, it would appear to be a defeat.
A righteous man is betrayed, abandoned, humiliated, tortured, and crucified. If the narrative ended with his body being placed in the tomb, we might ask where the victory was.
But for Christianity, the Cross is not the final page.
After the Cross comes the Resurrection.
After humiliation comes exaltation.
Paul expresses this dynamic in the Letter to the Philippians: Christ humbles himself to the point of death on a cross, and “therefore GOD has highly exalted him” (Philippians 2:8–9).
Suffering, therefore, was not the conclusion of the story.
The Resurrection becomes the very heart of Christian hope: death does not have the final word over existence.
This completely changes the way we can look at our own trials.
A difficult life is not necessarily a failed life. A person who experiences poverty, illness, persecution, or injustice cannot be considered less blessed simply because, at that particular moment, all we can see is suffering.
Christianity extends the story beyond death through resurrection and judgment.
The true conclusion, therefore, does not necessarily belong to this life.
In Islam: This Life Is Not the Final Judgment
The Qur’an also repeatedly warns against judging everything according to present prosperity.
Wealth does not automatically demonstrate GOD’s favor, just as a trial does not necessarily demonstrate His abandonment.
The Qur’an explicitly corrects this way of thinking:
“As for the human being, when his Lord tests him by honoring him and granting him blessings, he says, ‘My Lord has honored me.’ But when He tests him by restricting his provision, he says, ‘My Lord has humiliated me.’ No!”
(Qur’an 89:15–17)
That “No!” is fundamental.
Our present condition is not GOD’s final verdict.
Islam therefore places enormous emphasis on the Ākhirah, the life to come. This life is temporary; our deeds are recorded, and a time will come when what now appears incomplete will be judged with perfect justice.
The Qur’an states:
“We will set up the scales of justice on the Day of Resurrection, so no soul will be wronged in the least.”
(Qur’an 21:47)
Here the principle of the previous chapter returns: even what appears very small has weight.
Goodness performed in secret, patience during a trial, charity that no one witnessed, forgiveness offered without receiving anything in return: none of these things must necessarily produce their complete reward today in order to have value before GOD.
The story continues.
Even the Final Rung Can Change a Life
This principle leads us to another important consequence.
We should not consider a person permanently lost simply because of their past.
Someone may have spent much of their existence in error. They may have lied, committed fraud, harmed other people, or committed very serious injustices.
This does not erase responsibility.
Whenever possible, wrongdoing must be acknowledged, abandoned, and repaired. Authentic repentance does not simply consist of speaking a few words before GOD while deliberately continuing the same behavior.
But if the change is genuine, even a person who has wandered very far from goodness can begin to climb.
In all three traditions, despite important theological differences, we find an open door to return.
Judaism speaks of teshuvah: literally, return.
Christianity speaks of metanoia: conversion, a profound transformation of mind and life.
Islam speaks of tawbah: a repentant return toward GOD.
Three words born from different languages, yet all contain movement.
We can change direction.
This does not mean that a conversion at the final moment automatically transforms an entire life into a righteous one, nor can we know GOD’s particular judgment upon any individual. It does mean, however, that we are not the ones who can declare who is permanently beyond redemption.
As long as GOD grants the possibility of return, the door of transformation remains in His hands.
Our Story Is Still Being Written
Perhaps many of our questions arise precisely from impatience.
We want to know immediately why something happened. We want to see the results of our good actions at once. We want to understand why someone else seems to receive more than we do.
But we are looking at only a few pages.
Job teaches us to keep reading.
Jesus teaches us that even a tomb may not be the conclusion.
Jewish mysticism goes so far as to envision a journey of rectification of the soul that may extend beyond a single earthly existence.
Christianity looks toward resurrection and eternal life.
Islam looks toward the Day of Resurrection and the Ākhirah, where no deed will be forgotten.
These explanations are not identical, and we should not make them artificially the same. But all of them compel us to broaden our vision beyond the immediate.
Therefore, when we pass through a difficult period, perhaps the question should not be:
Why has GOD not rewarded me yet?
Instead, we might ask:
What is the next rung I can climb?
Continue doing good.
Continue correcting yourself.
Continue seeking GOD.
Continue climbing.
Because we cannot judge a story until GOD has written its final page.
Conclusion
Theology, before becoming complex, can be very simple: seek GOD, do good, correct your mistakes, and continue improving yourself, one rung at a time. No matter how distant the destination may seem, what matters is the direction in which you are walking and what you choose to sow today. If you wish to approach theology, even before turning to a teacher—whether a rabbi, a priest, or an imam—try first to encounter the Word directly: for Jews and Christians, we recommend reading, or simply listening to, the Book of Proverbs, which speaks with remarkable clarity about wisdom, righteousness, and foolishness; for Muslims, we recommend Surah 2, al-Baqarah, which through faith, prayer, charity, fasting, patience, justice, and responsibility can also be read as a progressive journey in the formation of both the individual and the community. Then, by all means, seek good teachers, because they can help you understand what you have read, but always remember that no one can climb the ladder in your place: the responsibility to choose what is good, seek GOD, and take the next step belongs to each one of us.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- ASH — Book of Proverbs
On the ASH website, the Book of Proverbs is included among the Wisdom Books of Scripture.
Book of Proverbs – Abrahamic Study Hall - ASH — Surah 2, Al-Baqarah – The Cow
This resource is particularly relevant to this study because the ASH page includes the text, interlinear translation, and audio, presenting Al-Baqarah as an important introduction to the theological understanding preached by Muhammad.
Surah 2 – Al-Baqarah – Abrahamic Study Hall - Chabad — What Is Kabbalah?
A highly authoritative Jewish resource offering readers an introduction to Kabbalah, the Tree of Life, and Jewish mystical tradition without relying on generic esoteric sources.
What Is Kabbalah? – Chabad.org
- Vatican — Saint John Climacus and the Ladder of Divine Ascent
A particularly valuable source for the second chapter of this study. The catechesis explicitly describes the different stages of John Climacus’ spiritual ascent, from renunciation to charity as the summit of the journey.
Saint John Climacus – Vatican - Quran.com — Complete Surah Al-Baqarah, with Audio and Tafsir
An accessible and reliable Islamic resource that allows readers to read and listen to the entire Surah 2, with translations, recitation, word-by-word study tools, and tafsir. It is supported by the Quran.Foundation.
Surah Al-Baqarah – Quran.com - Chabad — The Menorah and the Sefirot
This resource directly addresses the Sefirot and, through a teaching from the Zohar, explores the symbolic relationship between material reality, spiritual rectification, and the structure of the Sefirot.
The Menorah and the Sefirot – Chabad.org
