Marlon looked at Romo again. "And what I don't like, Rom... is that the religious teachings being preached often seem unbalanced. For example, the relationship between parents and children. We often hear in detail about the child's duties to their parents to avoid being disobedient. But... I rarely hear a sermon that truly discusses the parents' duties to their children in detail."
Romo fell silent for a moment, then replied cautiously, "There are hadiths that mention the parents' duties to their children, but perhaps the delivery of this message isn't discussed as frequently."
Marlon nodded. "Yes, and that's what puzzles me. Why is balance in preaching often absent? When you think about it, the parents' duties to their children are greater. They are the ones who choose to have children, not the children who choose to be born into this world."
Romo sighed. "So... you mean to say that our preaching tends to be one-sided?"
"More or less," Marlon said. "I once read a quote from Elon Musk: 'My children didn't choose to be born; I chose to have children. They owe me nothing; I owe them everything.' When you think about it... there's some truth to it, right? It doesn't seem to be Musk's original words, but many associate it with him."
Riri added, "So, you mean that the responsibility of parents isn't just about providing food and schooling, but there's a larger moral obligation?"
Marlon nodded. "Yes. I try to summarize something. We are often taught that children are a blessing from God. But when you think about it, having children is the parents' decision, not purely a 'gift' from God."
Romo furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"
Marlon smiled slightly. "We're not like Siti Maryam, Rom. We can't just have children without marriage or any biological process. At the very least, someone has to have sex before having a child. Meaning, when someone decides to have sex, they are indirectly accepting the risk of having a child. So, if a child is born, it's not just a blessing, but also a consequence of their own decision."
Pak Herman chuckled softly. "Well, if everyone thought like this, there could be a lot of parents with mental breakdowns."
Romo exhaled deeply. He tried to digest Marlon's words. On one hand, he couldn't deny the logic. But on the other hand, there were values in religion he wanted to preserve.
"But Mar," he finally said, "religion still teaches that children are a trust from God. If we regard children merely as a biological consequence, doesn't that reduce them to just a product of our decisions? And what about the concepts of blessing and destiny?"
Marlon smiled slightly. "That's the thing, Rom. I'm not saying that children aren't a blessing, but I just want to highlight the other side. If we think of children as a blessing, sometimes parents feel entitled to expect something in return from their children. But if we shift the perspective, it's actually the parents who owe everything to their children. It's not the children who should serve, but the parents who should ensure their children have a good life. Because they are the ones who chose to bring the child into this world."
Romo fell silent. Part of him wanted to argue, but another part began to understand what Marlon meant.
Riri looked at Romo with curiosity. "Are you starting to have doubts?"
Romo stared blankly at the table, deep in thought. "Not doubts... But I'm starting to feel that there's something that needs to be reexamined in the way we understand the concept of family in religion. Maybe... there are indeed some things more complex than what has been taught so far."
Pak Herman smiled. "Hahaha, if this keeps up, we might start our own philosophy school!"
They all laughed softly, but in his heart, Romo knew this discussion was just the beginning of a larger train of thought.
In the warm living room, Marlon leaned back on the couch, his eyes gazing at the ceiling as if searching for answers. He sighed deeply before speaking with a serious tone.
Marlon: "I'm starting to suspect, Romo. Maybe the reason why the topic of the relationship between parents and children is rarely discussed in preaching is to maintain the status quo. They probably want to save face. If this topic were frequently discussed, I'm sure almost 90% of parents in Indonesia, or maybe the world, would be judged as bad parents."
Romo fell silent, contemplating Marlon's words. Pak Herman, sitting across from him, nodded slowly, showing his interest in the direction of the conversation.
Marlon: "According to research, Indonesia has a fairly high 'fatherless' rate. Data from UNICEF in 2021 shows that around 20.9% of children in Indonesia grow up without the presence of a father. That means almost 3 million children are missing a father figure in their lives."
Romo furrowed his brows, trying to recall lessons about the parents' duties to their children in Islam. He felt there was much to reconsider and clearly communicate to the people.
Romo: "In Islamic teachings, there are many duties that parents have toward their children that might not be conveyed deeply in our preaching."
Pak Herman: "Such as what, Romo?"
Romo: "For example, giving a good name and clear lineage, providing breast milk, fulfilling material needs like food and clothing, providing adequate education, teaching social values, marrying children off to righteous spouses, and being patient and forgiving with children."
Marlon: "But, Romo, how often are those points really discussed in detail from the pulpits? What we often hear are the duties of children to their parents. It's as if the moral burden is always placed on the children."
Pak Herman: "Maybe there's an imbalance in the way we convey religious messages. Focusing too much on one side can make us neglect the other side."
Romo nodded slowly, realizing that there might have been a disparity in how the teachings were delivered. He felt there needed to be a change in how religious education and messages were communicated to ensure a balance in the parent-child relationship, in accordance with Islamic values.
Marlon leaned back in his chair, looking seriously at Romo and Pak Herman. Riri, sitting next to him, sipped her warm tea, as if already predicting that Marlon would bring up something heavy.
"Do you realize," Marlon began softly but piercingly, "that humans were not created to be honest beings?"
Romo frowned. "What do you mean? Honesty is part of human nature. All religions teach honesty as a core value. Even in Islam, honesty is a defining trait of the Prophet."
Pak Herman chuckled lightly, but it wasn't out of amusement—it was more out of unease. "You really love throwing around wild theories, Marlon. If humans weren't created to be honest, then why is honesty valued and upheld in every civilization?"
Marlon crossed his arms, enjoying the surprised expressions on both of their faces. He had anticipated this.
"That's exactly it," he said, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Because humans are not naturally honest, honesty becomes something incredibly valuable. If honesty were a natural trait, why would God give a great reward for those who are honest? Why do we have to be taught honesty from a young age if it's already in us?"
Romo fell silent for a moment. He tried to find an answer, but Marlon continued before he could object.
"Humans are not honest beings. Humans are social beings," he continued. "And as social beings, we must survive in groups. Sometimes, honesty becomes a threat to the harmony of the group."
Pak Herman crossed his arms over his chest, his expression now serious. "Go on. I'm curious where your thoughts are headed."
Marlon smiled, then began to explain.
"Imagine human life in the early days of civilization, when we were still hunting and living in caves. In any group, there's always a hierarchy—the leader, the hunters, the gatherers. The leader, due to their strength, has more privileges compared to the others. Now, here's where the dilemma of honesty begins.
Imagine there's a group member who feels the division of the hunting spoils is unfair. If they're honest and voice their dissatisfaction, what would happen?"
Riri chimed in, understanding where Marlon was leading them. "He could be kicked out, or even killed."
Marlon nodded. "Exactly. So he chooses to stay quiet, to hold back, to lie in order to maintain group stability. This is where honesty begins to fade from human nature. Because in a social group, being too honest can destroy relationships, even lives."
Romo took a deep breath. "But that's an extreme case. In religious teachings, honesty is a principle that must be upheld, no matter the consequences."
Marlon gave a wry smile. "Then why, in Islam, is there the concept of taqiyah, or the dispensation of lying in emergency situations? For instance, if someone's life is at risk, they are allowed to lie. That means, honesty does have limits in social reality."
Pak Herman rubbed his chin, thinking hard. "So, you believe that honesty isn't innate in humans, but something that must be enforced and taught?"
Marlon nodded firmly. "Exactly. If honesty were truly inherent in us from birth, God wouldn't need to impose severe punishment on those who lie. But the reality is? In almost all religions, honesty is always rewarded greatly. This means humans are naturally inclined to dishonesty, and they need strong motivation to be truthful."
Romo slowly shook his head. "This theory of yours... makes me uncomfortable. I understand the logic, but something inside me wants to deny it."
Pak Herman chuckled softly. "That's because you want to hold on to ideal values, Romo. But when we talk about reality, honesty is often harder than lying."
Riri, who had been quietly listening, added, "I think this also ties into the concept of sin. Sin isn't just about good and bad; it's about temptation. If something is innate in us from birth, why would there need to be rules against it? It's precisely because we are inclined to sin that religion seeks to control it with rewards and punishments."
Marlon looked at Romo with anticipation. "So what do you think, Romo? Still believe that humans are naturally honest beings?"
Romo sighed. He couldn't deny that there was logic in Marlon's words, but on the other hand, there were values he had held onto since childhood that made it hard to fully accept this idea.
"I... don't know, Marlon," he finally answered. "I need time to process all of this."
Pak Herman lifted his tea cup. "This is what I like about discussions like this. No one walks away with an immediate answer, but at least, we start questioning things."
Romo was still trying to digest Marlon's theory about honesty not being an inherent human trait. Pak Herman also appeared to be deep in thought, while Riri quietly enjoyed the chaos of their minds. But Marlon wasn't finished.
"Even crazier," Marlon said with sparkling eyes, "my philosophy professor once said that politeness is actually a tool to suppress honesty and truth."
Pak Herman, who was sipping his tea, nearly choked. "What?! Politeness suppresses honesty? That's nonsense!"
Romo furrowed his brow. "I can understand that honesty is difficult in social life, but politeness is a good thing. It's a value taught in religion and culture. How can something good take away the truth?"
Marlon chuckled. He enjoyed seeing their confused expressions.
"Think about it carefully," he said, then leaned back casually. "How many times have we had to lie for the sake of politeness? How many times have we held back the truth because we were afraid of being rude? A simple example: when someone asks, 'What did you think of my speech?', and we answer, 'It was great,' even though we felt it was boring."
Pak Herman raised an eyebrow. "But that's part of social etiquette. If we're too honest, we could hurt someone's feelings."
"True," said Marlon, "but that's the point. Politeness was created to make life more comfortable, not to uphold the truth. People prefer to be entertained by lies rather than slapped with the truth. That's why honesty often conflicts with social etiquette."
Romo grew more uneasy. "But then, what does that mean? Should we discard politeness for the sake of honesty? The world would be chaos if everyone spoke the truth without a filter!"
Marlon smiled faintly. "I'm not saying that. I just want us to realize that politeness and honesty often contradict each other. And more importantly, we need to know when to be honest and when to 'adjust' the truth to avoid unnecessary conflict."
Pak Herman sighed deeply. "So all this time we were taught to be polite, but really we were being taught to lie in a socially acceptable way?"
Marlon nodded. "Pretty much."
Pak Herman, who had been listening calmly all this time, suddenly chuckled softly. "Heh, now that I think about it, it makes sense. When I was young and running my business, if I was too honest with customers, the business would've failed. For example, if something wasn't great quality, I still had to say it was 'good' to make it sell. If I said, 'Honestly, this is just average,' who would buy it? I had no choice but to wrap the truth in more pleasant words."
Romo furrowed his brow, feeling more uncomfortable. "But isn't honesty a core value in Islam? Even in business, there's a principle of honesty?"
Marlon gave a wry smile. "Yes, that's what's taught in the scriptures. But in practice? Often, it's the honest ones who get ruined, while those who know how to wrap their words survive. Don't get me wrong, Romo, I'm not defending lying. I'm just saying that social reality doesn't always align with religious or moral idealism."
Pak Herman nodded slowly, his gaze distant. "It reminds me... of an old friend who worked at a big company. He used to be a very honest person, didn't like to get involved in anything shady. But because of his honesty, he never got promoted. He once refused to manipulate the company's financial reports, and in the end, he was pushed out. Who replaced him? Someone who was more 'articulate'—someone better at covering things up."
Romo fell silent. Pak Herman sighed deeply. "Ugh... the more I think about it, the more it makes my head spin. So, are we actually being taught more about politeness than honesty?"
Marlon tapped the table lightly. "Exactly! Politeness often becomes a tool to suppress honesty. And this isn't just about business or work. It happens in everyday life too. Children are taught to be polite to their parents, but they're rarely taught that they can express their discomfort. Subordinates must be polite to their superiors, but if the superior is wrong, it's hard for them to speak up. People must be polite to older individuals, even if they are completely wrong. So where is the space for truth?"
Pak Herman rubbed his face. "This... makes me reflect too. I used to always demand that my kids be polite. But now I realize, how much of their politeness is genuine, and how much of it is just because they're afraid of me?"
Romo leaned back in his chair, his head feeling full. "I'm starting to feel that the more we talk about this, the more concepts I need to revise in my mind."
Riri, who had been silent until now, finally chimed in casually, "Welcome to the world of philosophy, Romo. The deeper you dig, the more you realize there are no truly absolute answers."
Romo felt something shift in his mind. It was as if Marlon was peeling away something he had always believed to be absolute, but now it seemed fragile. Is it true that politeness often suppresses honesty? Is it true that honesty isn't an inherent trait of humans? And if so, where is the boundary?
The evening was beginning to fall, leaving traces of golden-orange hues between the clouds that were slowly fading. The atmosphere in Pak Herman's yard felt peaceful. The house was simple, with wooden walls and a small porch in front. A dim yellow light hung above the door, offering warmth in the cooling evening air. Beside the house, there was a small garden with a few potted plants and the wooden chairs they had been sitting in. The smell of damp earth mixed with the sweet aroma of tea that Pak Herman had just brewed.
Marlon stretched out his arms, stretching after a long discussion. He glanced at Riri, who was busy tidying her bag.
"Well, Rom," Marlon finally said, "we'll head home now. Tomorrow we'll come back here to meet Bu Siti."
Riri lightly patted Romo's shoulder, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yes, we'll leave you to reflect in silence, oh young philosopher."
Romo remained silent, his gaze empty as he stared at the tea cup in his hands. His mind was still full of the debates they had just had. He had been trying to find a way to defend his argument, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt something was missing.
Pak Herman, sitting on the old wooden chair in the corner of the porch, smiled seeing Romo's serious expression. "Be careful, son," he said, "if you think too much, your head will catch fire."
Riri laughed, then turned to Pak Herman. "Pak, if Romo does catch fire, please douse him with the water of life's reality, okay?"
Marlon responded, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Or Pak, tell him that life isn't just a theory in philosophy books."
Pak Herman chuckled, nodding his head. "Haha! I can do that. If necessary, I'll give him a crash course on life, so he doesn't just watch it from afar."
Romo finally sighed, the corner of his mouth slightly turning upward. Deep down, he knew there were things that couldn't be explained with theory alone—and perhaps, this was what Marlon and Riri had been trying to convey to him all along.
Marlon grinned before heading out. "Please teach him, Pak. Don't just give him theories, also give him some field practice."
Riri added cheerfully, "Good luck with the life exam, Romo! Don't forget your cheat sheet from Pak Herman!"
Pak Herman smiled wisely, patting Romo on the shoulder. "Take it easy, son. Life isn't as simple as black and white. But it's not as scary as you think either."
Marlon and Riri walked off, down the narrow street in front of the house with light steps, occasionally sharing a quiet laugh between them.
Romo stared at the backs of his two friends, who were getting farther away. In his heart, he thought: They know the world isn't as simple as theory. They don't just memorize the truth, they seek it and live it. And I... I'm still busy searching for meaning in words.
The evening breeze blew gently again. Romo took a deep breath, then turned toward Pak Herman, who was still sitting relaxed.
"Alright, Pak," he finally said, "let's talk... about reality."
Pak Herman smiled. "Now that's better. Let's get started."