A reflection from the House of Wisdom on the origins of our universe, where modern cosmology and timeless revelation meet.

The Moment of Fataqna – The Great Unfurling

Our story begins before the beginning. Before stars, before light, before time itself as we know it. The science of cosmology, through rigorous observation and calculation, takes us back to an initial state of almost unimaginable nature. It suggests that everything we see, every galaxy, every star, every atom in our bodies, was once compressed into a single, infinitesimally small point of infinite density and temperature—a singularity.

For fourteen centuries, readers of the Quran have contemplated a profound verse that speaks of the primordial state of the cosmos. It asks a powerful rhetorical question:

أَوَلَمْ يَرَ الَّذِينَ كَفَرُوا أَنَّ السَّمَاوَاتِ وَالْأَرْضَ كَانَتَا رَتْقًا فَفَتَقْنَاهُمَا

“Have those who disbelieved not considered that the heavens and the earth were a joined entity (ratqan), then We separated them (fafataqnahuma)?” (Surah Al-Anbiya, 21:30)

The word ratqan in Arabic implies a seamless, sewn-together, unified whole. The word fataqna means to un-stitch, to cleave, to separate, to tear open. For centuries, commentators reflected on this verse through the lens of their own knowledge. Today, the language of cosmology gives us a new and powerful lens for this reflection. When we hear physicists speak of a “singularity,” a unified point from which all of creation emerged, we cannot help but reflect on the word ratqan.

And when we learn of the Big Bang, that explosive moment of creation that initiated the universe, we can see it as the ultimate act of fataqna—the Great Unfurling. In an instant, the universe was born. In the first fraction of a second, from approximately 10⁻³² seconds, the fundamental force of gravity separated and the universe underwent a period of exponential expansion known as inflation. It was a moment of incomprehensible power and speed, an expansion that continues to this day. It is an echo of another celestial declaration in the Quran:

وَالسَّمَاءَ بَنَيْنَاهَا بِأَيْدٍ وَإِنَّا لَمُوسِعُونَ

“And the heaven We constructed with strength, and indeed, We are [its] expander (wa inna lamoosi’oon).” (Surah Adh-Dhariyat, 51:47)

The scientific description of cosmic expansion and the Quranic statement of lamoosi’oon are not identical; one is a detailed physical theory, the other a statement of divine power. Yet, they resonate. Science provides a new, powerful language through which we can appreciate the depth of the Quranic message. It provides the “how” that illuminates the “why”—the why being that this creation was not an accident, but a purposeful act of a powerful and wise Creator.

The Limits of Knowledge: The Planck Scale and the Unseen

But here, at the very threshold of existence, our human knowledge meets its first great horizon. Our current laws of physics, the equations of general relativity and quantum mechanics, work beautifully to describe the universe moments after its birth. However, if we try to push them back to the very first instant, to the time before approximately 10⁻⁴⁴ seconds, they break down. This boundary is known as the Planck time. Below this scale, our physics stops working; it yields nonsensical answers, like infinities.

This is not a physical wall in the universe. It is a wall in our current understanding. It is the point where empirical science, by its own rules, must pause and acknowledge a realm it cannot, as of yet, penetrate. This scientifically-defined frontier of humility is a profound physical reminder of a timeless spiritual concept: al-Ghaib, the Unseen. It affirms that our knowledge, however vast it becomes, is finite and gifted. It echoes the Quranic principle of intellectual humility, as when God states of realms beyond our perception:

مَا كَانَ لِيَ مِنْ عِلْمٍ بِالْمَلَإِ الْأَعْلَىٰ إِذْ يَخْتَصِمُونَ

“I had no knowledge of the exalted assembly [of angels] when they were disputing.” (Surah Sad, 38:69)

Here, at the very edge of time, science itself tells us there is a veil. It is a humbling reminder that we encompass only what the Creator wills of His knowledge. This is not a failure of science, but one of its greatest successes: to know the limits of what it knows.

The Cosmic Soup and the Grand Design

As the universe expanded and cooled, the story of creation continued to unfold with breathtaking precision. In the first few minutes, the “particle soup” of quarks and electrons began to coalesce, forming the first atomic nuclei. For the next 380,000 years, the universe was a hot, opaque fog of plasma. Then, a critical threshold was crossed. The universe cooled enough for electrons to be captured by nuclei, forming the first stable atoms. At this moment, called Recombination, the universe suddenly became transparent. Light could travel freely for the first time, and this is the light we see today as the Cosmic Microwave Background radiation—the faint afterglow of creation itself.

Yet, the story gets stranger. All of this visible matter—the stars, the galaxies, everything we have ever seen or touched—makes up only 5% of the universe. The vast majority of the cosmos is invisible to us. About 27% is something we call Dark Matter, a cosmic scaffold upon which galaxies are built. The remaining 68% is even more mysterious: Dark Energy, a strange repulsive force causing the expansion of the universe to accelerate. We call these components “dark” not because they are ominous, but because they are a profound mystery, a testament to how much we still have to learn.

The very nature of our reality is counter-intuitive. At the quantum level, solid matter dissolves into probabilities and waves of energy. The atom is 99.99999999999999% empty space. And some of our most advanced theories suggest reality may be composed of up to 11 dimensions.

Could such a finely-tuned, magnificent, and frankly bizarre reality—mostly invisible, fundamentally empty, and potentially multi-dimensional—truly be a cosmic accident? Could it be a creation batilan, as the Quran says, “in vain” or “without purpose”? Or is every discovery, every new mystery, another of the ayat—the signs—pointing to a reality far grander than our senses can grasp? The Quran invites us to this very conclusion:

وَيَتَفَكَّرُونَ فِي خَلْقِ السَّمَاوَاتِ وَالْأَرْضِ رَبَّنَا مَا خَلَقْتَ هَٰذَا بَاطِلًا سُبْحَانَكَ

“And they reflect upon the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], ‘Our Lord, you have not created this without purpose.’ Exalted are You [above such a thing]!” (Surah Aal-E-Imran, 3:191)

Naming the Heavens: A Human Legacy

As we look up at the stars, we are connected across centuries to our ancestors who also gazed at the heavens in wonder. The act of mapping and naming the stars is a timeless human story. Written across this celestial map is the legacy of a civilization that was profoundly inspired by faith to pursue knowledge.

Many of the star names officially used by astronomers today are derived directly from Arabic, a legacy of the scholars of the Islamic Golden Age. Look at the Big Dipper, where six of its seven bright stars bear their Arabic names: Dubhe (ẓahr ad-dubb al-akbar, “the back of the Great Bear”), Merak (al-marāqq, “the loins”), Phecda (fakhth ad-dubb, “the thigh”), Megrez (al-maghriz, “the base of the tail”), Alioth (al-jaun, “the black horse”), and Mizar (mi’zar, “the girdle”).

Across the sky, we find hundreds more. Aldebaran (ad-dabaran, “the follower”), Algedi (al-jady, “the goat”), and Algol (ra’as al-ghūl, “the head of the ghoul”).

This is more than trivia. It is a tangible link, a thread of light connecting us to the scholars we will meet later in our journey. For now, as we leave this cosmic dawn, know that the quest to understand the heavens is a shared human heritage, and the language of those who sought knowledge as an act of faith is still written on the night sky.