If There Were No God
A love letter by Alvin Lowrie
INTRODUCTION
To whom it may concern: I originally began writing this as a way to jot down thoughts that had emerged on the journey of my life—thoughts I hoped to remember. But as I delved deeper into them, I realized that nearly everything I’ve ever considered revolves around those I love, know, and need. In truth, this letter is for all of you—those I love and, I am learning, for everyone.
It seems that this is the lesson we are meant to learn: to love without judgment, for to do so is to reject the wrath that would otherwise be ours. While writing, I’ve thought of so many people—family and friends, those precious to me—even if they are distant, I could never live without their support.
So, if this letter turns out to be the only message I ever send to you, please know that all my love is contained in it. There is no judgment here, only an attempt to understand unconditional love and to share it with as many as I can. And if, in the end, I share these thoughts only with myself, I pray that they make me a better soul than I know myself to otherwise be.
My life, and yours, will soon pass away. Our vulnerability to circumstance is so great that we begin seeking understanding beyond our weaknesses almost from the moment of our birth. I think this is what our purpose is truly is: to seek understanding. And the gift of understanding has no value unless it is shared.
To whom it may concern: I originally began writing this as a way to jot down thoughts that had emerged on the journey of my life—thoughts I hoped to remember. But as I delved deeper into them, I realized that nearly everything I’ve ever considered revolves around those I love, know, and need. In truth, this letter is for all of you—those I love and, I am learning, for everyone.
It seems that this is the lesson we are meant to learn: to love without judgment, for to do so is to reject the wrath that would otherwise be ours. While writing, I’ve thought of so many people—family and friends, those precious to me—even if they are distant, I could never live without their support.
So, if this letter turns out to be the only message I ever send to you, please know that all my love is contained in it. There is no judgment here, only an attempt to understand unconditional love and to share it with as many as I can. And if, in the end, I share these thoughts only with myself, I pray that they make me a better soul than I know myself to otherwise be.
My life, and yours, will soon pass away. Our vulnerability to circumstance is so great that we begin seeking understanding beyond our weaknesses almost from the moment of our birth. I think this is what our purpose is truly is: to seek understanding. And the gift of understanding has no value unless it is shared.
REBELLION
As a child, I developed a mechanism for escaping discussions about topics I found boring—discussions about responsibility, judgment, and other so-called “adult” matters. When I reached the limit of my ability to focus, my mind would drift, and I would automatically adopt a negative stance on the topic at hand. I would repeat simple objections, like “nuh-uh,” “no it isn’t,” “was not,” until the conversation reached an impasse. The frustrated speaker would give up and administer whatever punishment they deemed appropriate.
I, of course, found the punishment easier to bear than the weight of moral responsibility. Later, I would realize that facing the responsibility was far easier than dealing with the consequences of my rebellion. The responsibility itself was so logical and simple that it hardly felt like a burden. Ultimately, it seems that all laws boil down to just a few, and if obeyed, they make life bearable. There's a saying: “What is an obligation to one who struggles, is little more than a choice to one who is willing.” It is always easiest not to fail, and failure is often a choice.
As an adult, I’ve had conversations that follow a similar pattern to those from my childhood. Sometimes, I too am that adult, struggling to understand what is right. Nearly always, when discussing moral and social responsibility, the conversation either veers into questioning the existence of God or attempts to avoid the topic altogether. After all, the question of God's existence is the greatest of all debates on responsibility, is it not? The existence of a righteous creator leads us to ponder profound questions we might never have considered otherwise. I can imagine no worse fate for us than to have the answer to this question sitting in our hearts, so undeniably clear that it leaves us no excuse at all.
Believing in God is about the willingness to hold oneself accountable to the highest imaginable moral authority—a Holy God. When those who refuse to consider God reach the point where they can no longer bear the burden of responsibility or the fear associated with the possibility of His existence, they simply declare that He does not exist and walk away from the debate. In this way, they mimic the behavior of my rebellious childhood self.
From the time I was a teenager until now, I have explored a wide range of spiritual views, all centered around the ultimate power we call God. From Eastern spiritual sciences, which I once believed to be the answer, only to later discover their hidden contradictions (which I will explain later), to my current Christian faith, I have always been learning, even at whatever level my beliefs had reached at the time. If you deny the existence of God, you’ve left the possibility behind, choosing to remain shallow in your understanding of what is, perhaps, the greatest intellectual debate. You’ve made a conscious decision to be more ignorant than those who continue to ponder the question.
For this reason, the question “Is there a God?” is inextricably tied to humanity’s deepest drive: to discover. To grow, we must continue to ask questions. This is clear to those who are open-hearted. Why do we question? To search is to grow, and growth is change, which is always accompanied by fear. But it is also necessary for survival. Without growth, survival ends. This is an accepted law even in our universe.
“What is God?” is a better question than “Is there a God?” because it opens the door to discovery. The desire to grow would preclude the latter, if humility is allowed to guide the heart. The eager mind will push beyond that question in search of clues. This way, the search becomes more than just a debate—it transforms into a quest to prove a theory, which is a far more scientific approach, wouldn’t you agree? To discover, we must be willing to stand in the gap between theory and the unknown. This can be a terrifying place—any scientist who has made a new discovery will attest to that. We must ask, “What is God?” before we can even begin to theorize about the answer. Humility places us outside of Him, but it is essential for genuine discovery.
As a child, I developed a mechanism for escaping discussions about topics I found boring—discussions about responsibility, judgment, and other so-called “adult” matters. When I reached the limit of my ability to focus, my mind would drift, and I would automatically adopt a negative stance on the topic at hand. I would repeat simple objections, like “nuh-uh,” “no it isn’t,” “was not,” until the conversation reached an impasse. The frustrated speaker would give up and administer whatever punishment they deemed appropriate.
I, of course, found the punishment easier to bear than the weight of moral responsibility. Later, I would realize that facing the responsibility was far easier than dealing with the consequences of my rebellion. The responsibility itself was so logical and simple that it hardly felt like a burden. Ultimately, it seems that all laws boil down to just a few, and if obeyed, they make life bearable. There's a saying: “What is an obligation to one who struggles, is little more than a choice to one who is willing.” It is always easiest not to fail, and failure is often a choice.
As an adult, I’ve had conversations that follow a similar pattern to those from my childhood. Sometimes, I too am that adult, struggling to understand what is right. Nearly always, when discussing moral and social responsibility, the conversation either veers into questioning the existence of God or attempts to avoid the topic altogether. After all, the question of God's existence is the greatest of all debates on responsibility, is it not? The existence of a righteous creator leads us to ponder profound questions we might never have considered otherwise. I can imagine no worse fate for us than to have the answer to this question sitting in our hearts, so undeniably clear that it leaves us no excuse at all.
Believing in God is about the willingness to hold oneself accountable to the highest imaginable moral authority—a Holy God. When those who refuse to consider God reach the point where they can no longer bear the burden of responsibility or the fear associated with the possibility of His existence, they simply declare that He does not exist and walk away from the debate. In this way, they mimic the behavior of my rebellious childhood self.
From the time I was a teenager until now, I have explored a wide range of spiritual views, all centered around the ultimate power we call God. From Eastern spiritual sciences, which I once believed to be the answer, only to later discover their hidden contradictions (which I will explain later), to my current Christian faith, I have always been learning, even at whatever level my beliefs had reached at the time. If you deny the existence of God, you’ve left the possibility behind, choosing to remain shallow in your understanding of what is, perhaps, the greatest intellectual debate. You’ve made a conscious decision to be more ignorant than those who continue to ponder the question.
For this reason, the question “Is there a God?” is inextricably tied to humanity’s deepest drive: to discover. To grow, we must continue to ask questions. This is clear to those who are open-hearted. Why do we question? To search is to grow, and growth is change, which is always accompanied by fear. But it is also necessary for survival. Without growth, survival ends. This is an accepted law even in our universe.
“What is God?” is a better question than “Is there a God?” because it opens the door to discovery. The desire to grow would preclude the latter, if humility is allowed to guide the heart. The eager mind will push beyond that question in search of clues. This way, the search becomes more than just a debate—it transforms into a quest to prove a theory, which is a far more scientific approach, wouldn’t you agree? To discover, we must be willing to stand in the gap between theory and the unknown. This can be a terrifying place—any scientist who has made a new discovery will attest to that. We must ask, “What is God?” before we can even begin to theorize about the answer. Humility places us outside of Him, but it is essential for genuine discovery.
LOGIC
I was first asked to write an essay on the possible existence of God in a philosophy class during college. At the time, my reason for believing in God seemed illogical to that class. I could not defend my belief through reasoning. I simply had an “F” for faith. But consider this: what I called “faith” then was the catalyst that propelled me to the conclusions I now hold. My conclusions are grounded in logic—reasoning that, without the desire for faith, I would never have arrived at. If my faith in God were merely misplaced reasoning, then there would have been no tangible outcome. But, as it is, the theories hold, the reasoning is sound, and there is no logical reason to dismiss the possibility of God. The evidence is all around us, if we open our hearts. I can imagine no worse scenario for us.
So, if we prepare ourselves for the worst possibility, we will, for the sake of caution, conclude that not only is there a God, but that we are responsible to Him and the host of witnesses just beyond our view in the most profound way.
I hope that if you have bored with me through this letter, it is because of my writing style—and not because of apathy towards the topic. I know that at times I struggle to differentiate between the two feelings myself, but I continue on in dedication just in case. For one to claim that the Christian God does not exist, and to retain any measure of validity, logic suggests that such a person should first read and study the Bible in full comprehension. Only then could they make an unbiased judgment. Sometimes, the way we believe in things we cannot touch is by continuing to search. Because we cannot fully comprehend the reasoning, we must continue in obedience to a deeper, more profound feeling—because we feel it is true. Often, we find that the actual lesson was obedience.
It is the nature of life that answers are not always found where we expect them to be. We are often terrified by the notion of blind faith, fearing manipulation or exploitation. Beyond this fear, however, is the ultimate understanding of a faithful, loving Father—a relationship that we can trust with our very lives. It is to Him that I now turn.
When I was a toddler, I was often placed in a playpen by a loving parent. From my perspective inside it, the answer seemed to be there with me. Escape. The only remaining question was where the weak spot in the walls might be. Like that parent who watched over me, we must consider the possibility that we have another now—One who gave us the example of parents to show His purpose for life. When logic all around us points to certain conclusions, He is saying that the miracle we seek is not of this world. If we look up, we will see the answer looking back down at us. But only the heart of a child will look up at all. So, look.
There can be nothing more important than questioning the danger inherent in our apathy. Without questioning this, we, as a species, would stop expanding our scope of vision concerning morality and responsibility. Morality would become conditional upon our desires, and decay would follow. We see this “death” all around us. Without questioning our apathy and maintaining the traits that hold us accountable, we would no longer have civilization. We must grow to survive. Now, we must reach for the face of our Creator to defend against the fear bred by our changing world. We live in an age of technological and mental expansion like no other in history. But this changing world is building a house with no foundation in good moral behavior. You may argue that nature will take care of its own, but I would rather choose to be morally brilliant than leave it to chance.
I was first asked to write an essay on the possible existence of God in a philosophy class during college. At the time, my reason for believing in God seemed illogical to that class. I could not defend my belief through reasoning. I simply had an “F” for faith. But consider this: what I called “faith” then was the catalyst that propelled me to the conclusions I now hold. My conclusions are grounded in logic—reasoning that, without the desire for faith, I would never have arrived at. If my faith in God were merely misplaced reasoning, then there would have been no tangible outcome. But, as it is, the theories hold, the reasoning is sound, and there is no logical reason to dismiss the possibility of God. The evidence is all around us, if we open our hearts. I can imagine no worse scenario for us.
So, if we prepare ourselves for the worst possibility, we will, for the sake of caution, conclude that not only is there a God, but that we are responsible to Him and the host of witnesses just beyond our view in the most profound way.
I hope that if you have bored with me through this letter, it is because of my writing style—and not because of apathy towards the topic. I know that at times I struggle to differentiate between the two feelings myself, but I continue on in dedication just in case. For one to claim that the Christian God does not exist, and to retain any measure of validity, logic suggests that such a person should first read and study the Bible in full comprehension. Only then could they make an unbiased judgment. Sometimes, the way we believe in things we cannot touch is by continuing to search. Because we cannot fully comprehend the reasoning, we must continue in obedience to a deeper, more profound feeling—because we feel it is true. Often, we find that the actual lesson was obedience.
It is the nature of life that answers are not always found where we expect them to be. We are often terrified by the notion of blind faith, fearing manipulation or exploitation. Beyond this fear, however, is the ultimate understanding of a faithful, loving Father—a relationship that we can trust with our very lives. It is to Him that I now turn.
When I was a toddler, I was often placed in a playpen by a loving parent. From my perspective inside it, the answer seemed to be there with me. Escape. The only remaining question was where the weak spot in the walls might be. Like that parent who watched over me, we must consider the possibility that we have another now—One who gave us the example of parents to show His purpose for life. When logic all around us points to certain conclusions, He is saying that the miracle we seek is not of this world. If we look up, we will see the answer looking back down at us. But only the heart of a child will look up at all. So, look.
There can be nothing more important than questioning the danger inherent in our apathy. Without questioning this, we, as a species, would stop expanding our scope of vision concerning morality and responsibility. Morality would become conditional upon our desires, and decay would follow. We see this “death” all around us. Without questioning our apathy and maintaining the traits that hold us accountable, we would no longer have civilization. We must grow to survive. Now, we must reach for the face of our Creator to defend against the fear bred by our changing world. We live in an age of technological and mental expansion like no other in history. But this changing world is building a house with no foundation in good moral behavior. You may argue that nature will take care of its own, but I would rather choose to be morally brilliant than leave it to chance.
WHAT ARE WE?
Are we simply what we seem? This is a question that arises in many conversations today, and it should. After all, the answer shapes every other aspect of our existence. In it lies the true value we place on everything we've thought about or debated in our lives, and it serves as the measure by which we gauge the cost of our indifference when we choose not to think about this question.
(A)
If we are simply what we seem—animals that have evolved to a higher level of intelligence, who love out of need and practice religion out of fear of death—then we are, it seems, hopeless. If all our imagining of a God is merely that, then the only purpose of mankind’s faith has been to restrain the chaos outside civilization. This is to say that, because we are acutely aware of our mortality, there would be no reason to pursue anything in life except pleasure. Without some belief in justice, which is often derived from religious faith, there would be no moral framework. All people, whether good or bad, would cease to exist upon death. Without hope, we would, in effect, already be emotionally dead. We would at best have only a moral law of self-preservation, which could hardly be called morality. So, religion, for all its faults, could at least have saved us from ourselves, even if it has also been the source of much blame.
(B)
Our world, or the universe, seems to be a collection of elements that exist without any inherent reason for eternal existence. They exist only because they happen to be here at this moment in time and space. Without belief in eternity, this is how we would view ourselves as well. Each element depends on the physical laws of the universe. Take, for example, a rock—it exists only for a period of time, with a certain mass, and occupies a certain amount of space. It does not contain the reason for its existence; it simply exists because it obeys these laws. However, if that rock did contain its own purpose, it would essentially be eternal because it would not have to obey laws beyond itself. But the issue arises with the laws that it would have to transcend.
This hypothetical rock we are discussing, of course, is just that—a hypothesis. Or is it? If it did exist, we would be unable to see it without being eternal ourselves. To perceive it for what it is, we would need an understanding of eternity, which we do not possess. Any understanding of eternity that we have is secondhand, derived from reasoning based on our understanding of the temporary, physical world. Therefore, we cannot say with certainty that such a rock does not exist. The same might be said of a possible "Rock God." Eternity is a concept that cannot be understood or calculated by the finite human mind. But there is another way of thinking, called faith, that allows us to reason in ways that might extend beyond our limited understanding.
Consider that faith, like eternity, is beyond the reach of scientific explanation. It does not need to conform to the natural laws of the universe to exist. Like hope and love, faith is a human trait, and, as far as we know, it has no equivalent elsewhere in the universe. This suggests that there are things that exist outside the realm of science. Some may dismiss faith as mere foolish optimism, but it is the power to look beyond the laws that govern our circumstances. Science, while a powerful tool, cannot operate alone when the aim is to understand the existence of life because it cannot address the deeper questions of why life matters. Science is a tool, but it cannot explain the reason for its own existence any more than the rest of the universe can. It is limited because it is driven by our desire for knowledge—our selfish intent. There is no scientific formula for understanding eternity, as science is limited to the study of the physical laws that govern our universe. When science reaches the event horizon of physics, it stops. Similarly, humans stop when deprived of the essential needs that sustain life. Science is finite reasoning, and this limitation cannot be overcome. Even as science may expand its reach in remarkable ways, it will always be governed by the laws of the universe. Therefore, science (knowledge) cannot be absolute.
To understand eternity, we must take a leap of faith. This is the means by which we fulfill our purpose: to understand that which is beyond our logical grasp. Those who have discovered this ability to view eternity through faith might say, "I am God, nature is God, we are God." But this is merely a viewpoint. I would argue that by reaching out in faith to grasp that which is beyond our understanding, we risk discovering that we are, in fact, closer to Satan than to God. In attempting to grasp something we do not deserve, we may be engaging in theft. This is a dangerous risk because, in our ignorance, we may come to realize that we have no right to claim eternity. The very nature of the universe suggests that taking what we have not earned is akin to theft.
Let me interject a brief thought: Spock, from a logical standpoint, would not believe in aliens. Let me explain: pure logic dictates that aliens, if they exist, would either be the creators of the universe or, at the very least, be subject to the same questions we have about the origins of the universe. If aliens created us, they would, by that logic, be our gods. But then, why would we fashion this creator in our image? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The only thing worth seeking from a logical standpoint is the one supreme answer—the origin of the universe. Everything else, including aliens, would be inconsequential.
Our drives for self-preservation, and our view of the world, seem to prioritize the self above all else. But "self," in its very nature, cannot serve the greater good. It is limited, focused on individual desires that do not align with the needs of others. The greater good, which I associate with eternal morality, lies far beyond our comprehension. Compared to this greater good, self-centeredness appears as chaos, due to its limitations. Therefore, any attempt to view oneself as a god will inevitably lead to chaos. Indeed, in comparison to eternity, we are more akin to Satan than to God. We are "selves" without a model of eternal morality. To claim that we contain the reason for our existence is to attempt to make ourselves gods.
So, are we, as a race, gods? Our nature still points to self-preservation, and our ignorance is still present. This leads to a moral dilemma for futurists: Is the pursuit of scientific knowledge an attempt to make ourselves gods? By seeking to transcend our limitations, are we trying to attain heaven, as the story of the Tower of Babel suggests? This pursuit of knowledge, though noble in many ways, cannot justify selfish acts. The end does not justify the means, and any advancement we make cannot erase the moral costs.
Are we simply what we seem? This is a question that arises in many conversations today, and it should. After all, the answer shapes every other aspect of our existence. In it lies the true value we place on everything we've thought about or debated in our lives, and it serves as the measure by which we gauge the cost of our indifference when we choose not to think about this question.
(A)
If we are simply what we seem—animals that have evolved to a higher level of intelligence, who love out of need and practice religion out of fear of death—then we are, it seems, hopeless. If all our imagining of a God is merely that, then the only purpose of mankind’s faith has been to restrain the chaos outside civilization. This is to say that, because we are acutely aware of our mortality, there would be no reason to pursue anything in life except pleasure. Without some belief in justice, which is often derived from religious faith, there would be no moral framework. All people, whether good or bad, would cease to exist upon death. Without hope, we would, in effect, already be emotionally dead. We would at best have only a moral law of self-preservation, which could hardly be called morality. So, religion, for all its faults, could at least have saved us from ourselves, even if it has also been the source of much blame.
(B)
Our world, or the universe, seems to be a collection of elements that exist without any inherent reason for eternal existence. They exist only because they happen to be here at this moment in time and space. Without belief in eternity, this is how we would view ourselves as well. Each element depends on the physical laws of the universe. Take, for example, a rock—it exists only for a period of time, with a certain mass, and occupies a certain amount of space. It does not contain the reason for its existence; it simply exists because it obeys these laws. However, if that rock did contain its own purpose, it would essentially be eternal because it would not have to obey laws beyond itself. But the issue arises with the laws that it would have to transcend.
This hypothetical rock we are discussing, of course, is just that—a hypothesis. Or is it? If it did exist, we would be unable to see it without being eternal ourselves. To perceive it for what it is, we would need an understanding of eternity, which we do not possess. Any understanding of eternity that we have is secondhand, derived from reasoning based on our understanding of the temporary, physical world. Therefore, we cannot say with certainty that such a rock does not exist. The same might be said of a possible "Rock God." Eternity is a concept that cannot be understood or calculated by the finite human mind. But there is another way of thinking, called faith, that allows us to reason in ways that might extend beyond our limited understanding.
Consider that faith, like eternity, is beyond the reach of scientific explanation. It does not need to conform to the natural laws of the universe to exist. Like hope and love, faith is a human trait, and, as far as we know, it has no equivalent elsewhere in the universe. This suggests that there are things that exist outside the realm of science. Some may dismiss faith as mere foolish optimism, but it is the power to look beyond the laws that govern our circumstances. Science, while a powerful tool, cannot operate alone when the aim is to understand the existence of life because it cannot address the deeper questions of why life matters. Science is a tool, but it cannot explain the reason for its own existence any more than the rest of the universe can. It is limited because it is driven by our desire for knowledge—our selfish intent. There is no scientific formula for understanding eternity, as science is limited to the study of the physical laws that govern our universe. When science reaches the event horizon of physics, it stops. Similarly, humans stop when deprived of the essential needs that sustain life. Science is finite reasoning, and this limitation cannot be overcome. Even as science may expand its reach in remarkable ways, it will always be governed by the laws of the universe. Therefore, science (knowledge) cannot be absolute.
To understand eternity, we must take a leap of faith. This is the means by which we fulfill our purpose: to understand that which is beyond our logical grasp. Those who have discovered this ability to view eternity through faith might say, "I am God, nature is God, we are God." But this is merely a viewpoint. I would argue that by reaching out in faith to grasp that which is beyond our understanding, we risk discovering that we are, in fact, closer to Satan than to God. In attempting to grasp something we do not deserve, we may be engaging in theft. This is a dangerous risk because, in our ignorance, we may come to realize that we have no right to claim eternity. The very nature of the universe suggests that taking what we have not earned is akin to theft.
Let me interject a brief thought: Spock, from a logical standpoint, would not believe in aliens. Let me explain: pure logic dictates that aliens, if they exist, would either be the creators of the universe or, at the very least, be subject to the same questions we have about the origins of the universe. If aliens created us, they would, by that logic, be our gods. But then, why would we fashion this creator in our image? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? The only thing worth seeking from a logical standpoint is the one supreme answer—the origin of the universe. Everything else, including aliens, would be inconsequential.
Our drives for self-preservation, and our view of the world, seem to prioritize the self above all else. But "self," in its very nature, cannot serve the greater good. It is limited, focused on individual desires that do not align with the needs of others. The greater good, which I associate with eternal morality, lies far beyond our comprehension. Compared to this greater good, self-centeredness appears as chaos, due to its limitations. Therefore, any attempt to view oneself as a god will inevitably lead to chaos. Indeed, in comparison to eternity, we are more akin to Satan than to God. We are "selves" without a model of eternal morality. To claim that we contain the reason for our existence is to attempt to make ourselves gods.
So, are we, as a race, gods? Our nature still points to self-preservation, and our ignorance is still present. This leads to a moral dilemma for futurists: Is the pursuit of scientific knowledge an attempt to make ourselves gods? By seeking to transcend our limitations, are we trying to attain heaven, as the story of the Tower of Babel suggests? This pursuit of knowledge, though noble in many ways, cannot justify selfish acts. The end does not justify the means, and any advancement we make cannot erase the moral costs.
THE WISDOM OF HUMILITY
Now, let us consider how faith extends our vision beyond the limits of science. Science, while invaluable, is a tool that can become dangerously myopic if relied upon exclusively.
Try to imagine the greatest God possible. From a scientific standpoint, the greatest possible God would be perfect. But perfection is not a scientific concept—it cannot be theorized because it is not observable. So, hypothetically, what would the greatest God be like? The answer is perfection. But perfection, in this sense, is not something science can address.
Let us take a more philosophical approach. Imagine yourself as Satan, unworthy of anything but punishment, and yet this God pardons you, not only offering forgiveness but adopting you into the divine family. This act of mercy breaks the physical law of cause and effect and establishes a new justice system based on mercy rather than punishment. In this system, we are allowed to achieve perfection despite our lack of eternal morality. But for this to happen, God must interact with us, be affected by us. This would require God to become imperfect—a man, and then, to be killed by us. Through this act, we see the greatest possible expression of mercy.
However, this understanding of God goes beyond religion. Organized religions, like individuals, often serve their own agendas. As one minister said, "If Jesus is the door, He does not need an organized religion as a screen door." Religion is a human construct, not an eternal one. To experience eternal morality, we must humble ourselves, leave behind religion, and experience God directly.
This leads us to the essential truth: The greatest God can be imagined only by assuming the lowest possible position in the universe. We understand concepts like "up" only in relation to "down." Similarly, we understand goodness only in relation to evil. This is the wisdom of humility. By recognizing our imperfection and forgiveness, we are able to imagine a God greater than any other.
Now, let us consider how faith extends our vision beyond the limits of science. Science, while invaluable, is a tool that can become dangerously myopic if relied upon exclusively.
Try to imagine the greatest God possible. From a scientific standpoint, the greatest possible God would be perfect. But perfection is not a scientific concept—it cannot be theorized because it is not observable. So, hypothetically, what would the greatest God be like? The answer is perfection. But perfection, in this sense, is not something science can address.
Let us take a more philosophical approach. Imagine yourself as Satan, unworthy of anything but punishment, and yet this God pardons you, not only offering forgiveness but adopting you into the divine family. This act of mercy breaks the physical law of cause and effect and establishes a new justice system based on mercy rather than punishment. In this system, we are allowed to achieve perfection despite our lack of eternal morality. But for this to happen, God must interact with us, be affected by us. This would require God to become imperfect—a man, and then, to be killed by us. Through this act, we see the greatest possible expression of mercy.
However, this understanding of God goes beyond religion. Organized religions, like individuals, often serve their own agendas. As one minister said, "If Jesus is the door, He does not need an organized religion as a screen door." Religion is a human construct, not an eternal one. To experience eternal morality, we must humble ourselves, leave behind religion, and experience God directly.
This leads us to the essential truth: The greatest God can be imagined only by assuming the lowest possible position in the universe. We understand concepts like "up" only in relation to "down." Similarly, we understand goodness only in relation to evil. This is the wisdom of humility. By recognizing our imperfection and forgiveness, we are able to imagine a God greater than any other.
The Most Important Things
What is the most important single thing in the universe, from both a scientific and philosophical perspective?
The answer is life. Without life, the universe would have no meaning.
What is the most important thing in life?
It is purpose—specifically, the purpose for existence. The greatest purpose is selfless love, the power that drives civilization and community. It is selfless love that gives life its meaning, causing individuals to move beyond selfishness and sacrifice for the greater good.
Life is the most important thing in the universe. Selfless love is the most important thing in life. Therefore, the universe exists to sustain life and to facilitate selfless love. It is a creation of a God to whom we owe more than our very lives. If we understand this, we owe Him eternity. This is the universe of sacrificial love—the universe of Jesus
What is the most important single thing in the universe, from both a scientific and philosophical perspective?
The answer is life. Without life, the universe would have no meaning.
What is the most important thing in life?
It is purpose—specifically, the purpose for existence. The greatest purpose is selfless love, the power that drives civilization and community. It is selfless love that gives life its meaning, causing individuals to move beyond selfishness and sacrifice for the greater good.
Life is the most important thing in the universe. Selfless love is the most important thing in life. Therefore, the universe exists to sustain life and to facilitate selfless love. It is a creation of a God to whom we owe more than our very lives. If we understand this, we owe Him eternity. This is the universe of sacrificial love—the universe of Jesus
Faith & Trust
What words could I possibly speak that would convince you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, of my goodwill toward you? I have considered this question at great length. To discover the words that could reveal my sincerity and allow us to trust without any restraint would be an incredible achievement. It would open the door to a kind of communication that could help humanity reach its full potential, by removing the great stumbling block of selfishness. Unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that there is no way to convince anyone, beyond all doubt, of anything at all. There is no way to remove 'self' from the conversation, because every conversation inevitably deals with the needs of the individuals involved. Thus, no one can be perceived as entirely honest by another individual unless... unless there is a God—a procreative God—and the individuals believe enough in Him to hold to a line of ethical behavior out of obligation to Him. (The masculine "Him" is used because the alternatives, "it" or "Her," would only serve to make God seem conditional to our desires.) There is no other way that I can logically see that would obligate individuals to act on principles that extend beyond their immediate needs. I suggest that God is the only source of power sufficient to require such obligation to selflessness. No other moral driver could enforce these demands to the extent that they could be absolutely assured in the mind of another individual from the first instance.
The only words of value to another person in their suffering are the ones that say, "I would gladly come and suffer with you, or for you." I know the example I must give to gain their trust: the one that encourages that individual as they struggle, the one that says, from my heart, that I am there in spirit, caring for nothing else in this world as much as I do for them. You, as an individual, would have to see in me a willingness, without exception, to sacrifice. The only way I can give up my life in that manner is to believe that there is something more beyond this life of success and reward that will justify my action—something beyond the mere act of throwing myself away. This, in turn, requires belief in a God who, by believing in Him, will cause better behavior than I would otherwise be capable of. Here, we can suffice to say that if there is life beyond life, some force invisible to us perpetuates it, and for reasons beyond our understanding, we are blinded to it.
In order to be truly selfless, I would have to believe in that power we call God enough to give up my normal instinct to survive and sacrifice myself for others. I will call this power God here, only because it must meet the criteria I expect to qualify in my mind. First, it must be greater than you and I, because it exists without the means known to us and beyond all laws, including the greatest physical laws of time and space, which would not exist except to govern the boundaries of limitation. Then, this power must also be procreative in nature (which is the only reason it is possible to trust it). Also, it must lack any amount of chaos, which would preclude it from being eternal. Finally, I call it God because I am blinded to it, other than through my own reasoning biases. By this, I mean that it seems better for me to believe that there is a God, just in case there is, being that there are no consequences if there is not, but grave consequences if there is. This is also the basis of "Pascal's Wager," a philosophical argument which can be complemented by Occam’s razor.
Logic dictates that a being that knows it exists but does not know how or why has a responsibility to servant hood, which is evident.
What words could I possibly speak that would convince you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, of my goodwill toward you? I have considered this question at great length. To discover the words that could reveal my sincerity and allow us to trust without any restraint would be an incredible achievement. It would open the door to a kind of communication that could help humanity reach its full potential, by removing the great stumbling block of selfishness. Unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that there is no way to convince anyone, beyond all doubt, of anything at all. There is no way to remove 'self' from the conversation, because every conversation inevitably deals with the needs of the individuals involved. Thus, no one can be perceived as entirely honest by another individual unless... unless there is a God—a procreative God—and the individuals believe enough in Him to hold to a line of ethical behavior out of obligation to Him. (The masculine "Him" is used because the alternatives, "it" or "Her," would only serve to make God seem conditional to our desires.) There is no other way that I can logically see that would obligate individuals to act on principles that extend beyond their immediate needs. I suggest that God is the only source of power sufficient to require such obligation to selflessness. No other moral driver could enforce these demands to the extent that they could be absolutely assured in the mind of another individual from the first instance.
The only words of value to another person in their suffering are the ones that say, "I would gladly come and suffer with you, or for you." I know the example I must give to gain their trust: the one that encourages that individual as they struggle, the one that says, from my heart, that I am there in spirit, caring for nothing else in this world as much as I do for them. You, as an individual, would have to see in me a willingness, without exception, to sacrifice. The only way I can give up my life in that manner is to believe that there is something more beyond this life of success and reward that will justify my action—something beyond the mere act of throwing myself away. This, in turn, requires belief in a God who, by believing in Him, will cause better behavior than I would otherwise be capable of. Here, we can suffice to say that if there is life beyond life, some force invisible to us perpetuates it, and for reasons beyond our understanding, we are blinded to it.
In order to be truly selfless, I would have to believe in that power we call God enough to give up my normal instinct to survive and sacrifice myself for others. I will call this power God here, only because it must meet the criteria I expect to qualify in my mind. First, it must be greater than you and I, because it exists without the means known to us and beyond all laws, including the greatest physical laws of time and space, which would not exist except to govern the boundaries of limitation. Then, this power must also be procreative in nature (which is the only reason it is possible to trust it). Also, it must lack any amount of chaos, which would preclude it from being eternal. Finally, I call it God because I am blinded to it, other than through my own reasoning biases. By this, I mean that it seems better for me to believe that there is a God, just in case there is, being that there are no consequences if there is not, but grave consequences if there is. This is also the basis of "Pascal's Wager," a philosophical argument which can be complemented by Occam’s razor.
Logic dictates that a being that knows it exists but does not know how or why has a responsibility to servant hood, which is evident.
The Color Red
I have often used the example of the color red when arguing for the existence of God (as though He needs me to defend Him). What I need to do, however, is express my faith so that I can be spiritually alive. So then I ask: which came first, the color red or the word? Obviously, the word is simply a label we have chosen for something we see. Could we have named it if all humans were born blind? Of course not. But it would still exist even without the name we placed upon it. The assumption of ignorance is how we progress toward wisdom.
There are many examples of this reasoning in our world. They all seem to guide us in a similar direction. The name "red" could not exist without the color red. Neither would have any significance to us if we did not have eyes. Similarly, shadow could not exist without there first being light, and it is still dependent upon an object to cast it. We therefore know that an object exists because it casts a shadow. Lies require our thoughts. We require the truth (reality). The truth does not require us or lies, just as light does not require objects or their shadows.
We can only comprehend an "instant" because we have eternity to compare it to first, but both concepts require us to exist within time for them to be relative. This limits our reasoning to that which requires time to express. This does not necessarily mean that all life requires time, though. To know that, we would have to see beyond our boundaries. We only know for sure that life requires order, whether or not it is within time.
Chaos requires orderly things upon which to feed. Then, the observer must be relative to the consequences to see the difference. We are limited to observing that which already is. Like red, we can only name it, not create it. By being relative to consequences (chaos), we cannot know the unknowable. We are limited to our collective knowledge, which is relative to our ignorance of any subject, including creation and perfection. We "know" that they exist and are beyond our comprehension.
My final example of naming (knowing) what already exists (though there are endless examples, and you have likely thought of more) is truth. Truth requires conscience to perceive. And though it does not require lies to exist, lies could not exist without it. The truth is simply what is "real." It is no more dependent on fabrications and fantasies to exist than order, light, or color are dependent on their negative concepts. They are constants, which we have an obligation to view as non-relative to our observations. The negatives, on the other hand, do require us to exist. There is no eternal yin and yang, because chaos is not an eternal concept. It simply feeds on the order within our lives. The only possible eternal entity, from a logical viewpoint, would be a flawless, perfect being who requires no beginning or creation. He, by existing, would create the uppermost reason for our being (the first cause). Any other view, by being subject to this one, would appear to be a lie, a shadow, or a chaotic view in comparison to this option. Imagine existence without a creator. You can no more do this than you can imagine the word "red" without an existing color. The reality of existence must preclude the names we place upon it. There is no other reasonable way to imagine where the word "God" came from. We could not have imagined Him from within our boundaries of universal chaos if He weren't a real concept that existed before our intellect.
One last thought on the subject: evolution of the concept of infinity is impossible! Evolution is the development of practicality and the organization of that which was chaotic. Infinity and perfection have no place in such an orderly process, even if it did happen. It would be as inappropriate and inapplicable as offering hope to a mollusk!
I have often used the example of the color red when arguing for the existence of God (as though He needs me to defend Him). What I need to do, however, is express my faith so that I can be spiritually alive. So then I ask: which came first, the color red or the word? Obviously, the word is simply a label we have chosen for something we see. Could we have named it if all humans were born blind? Of course not. But it would still exist even without the name we placed upon it. The assumption of ignorance is how we progress toward wisdom.
There are many examples of this reasoning in our world. They all seem to guide us in a similar direction. The name "red" could not exist without the color red. Neither would have any significance to us if we did not have eyes. Similarly, shadow could not exist without there first being light, and it is still dependent upon an object to cast it. We therefore know that an object exists because it casts a shadow. Lies require our thoughts. We require the truth (reality). The truth does not require us or lies, just as light does not require objects or their shadows.
We can only comprehend an "instant" because we have eternity to compare it to first, but both concepts require us to exist within time for them to be relative. This limits our reasoning to that which requires time to express. This does not necessarily mean that all life requires time, though. To know that, we would have to see beyond our boundaries. We only know for sure that life requires order, whether or not it is within time.
Chaos requires orderly things upon which to feed. Then, the observer must be relative to the consequences to see the difference. We are limited to observing that which already is. Like red, we can only name it, not create it. By being relative to consequences (chaos), we cannot know the unknowable. We are limited to our collective knowledge, which is relative to our ignorance of any subject, including creation and perfection. We "know" that they exist and are beyond our comprehension.
My final example of naming (knowing) what already exists (though there are endless examples, and you have likely thought of more) is truth. Truth requires conscience to perceive. And though it does not require lies to exist, lies could not exist without it. The truth is simply what is "real." It is no more dependent on fabrications and fantasies to exist than order, light, or color are dependent on their negative concepts. They are constants, which we have an obligation to view as non-relative to our observations. The negatives, on the other hand, do require us to exist. There is no eternal yin and yang, because chaos is not an eternal concept. It simply feeds on the order within our lives. The only possible eternal entity, from a logical viewpoint, would be a flawless, perfect being who requires no beginning or creation. He, by existing, would create the uppermost reason for our being (the first cause). Any other view, by being subject to this one, would appear to be a lie, a shadow, or a chaotic view in comparison to this option. Imagine existence without a creator. You can no more do this than you can imagine the word "red" without an existing color. The reality of existence must preclude the names we place upon it. There is no other reasonable way to imagine where the word "God" came from. We could not have imagined Him from within our boundaries of universal chaos if He weren't a real concept that existed before our intellect.
One last thought on the subject: evolution of the concept of infinity is impossible! Evolution is the development of practicality and the organization of that which was chaotic. Infinity and perfection have no place in such an orderly process, even if it did happen. It would be as inappropriate and inapplicable as offering hope to a mollusk!
Year 2000
When I was a teenager, there were two things I believed that I no longer accept at 40. First, I thought I would never grow up. Something would happen to me, and I wouldn’t make it. Maybe the world would end. Perhaps I would find out it was all simply a bad dream, and I was actually God on a drunken spree. Or maybe I would die in a car crash. For whatever reason, the one thing I did not consider optional was actually growing old. I have since realized that the quality of my life now is the result of the things I did—and didn’t do—when I was younger. The things I didn’t do, having had no intention of ever being old anyway.
If you make no plans for the future, there will be no future for you. I have had many people, both Christians and otherwise, make it clear that there is no purpose in planning beyond the year 2000, the end of the millennium. When I consider how many people think that way, it is nearly enough to make me want to give up with them. But you see, the only reason for giving up is because you are giving up. Like the teenager choosing punishment over responsibility, choosing to believe there is no future is just releasing yourself from the obligation to act positively. If the entire world were to die in a grand car crash, what did you expect? To have a future, you must plan for one. To deserve eternity, you must plan for it as well. If anyone will live forever, it will already have started in their heart, and the result will be a hopeful feeling even now. This divides the optimist from the pessimist, the "believer" from the unbeliever. Expect the best!
When I was a teenager, there were two things I believed that I no longer accept at 40. First, I thought I would never grow up. Something would happen to me, and I wouldn’t make it. Maybe the world would end. Perhaps I would find out it was all simply a bad dream, and I was actually God on a drunken spree. Or maybe I would die in a car crash. For whatever reason, the one thing I did not consider optional was actually growing old. I have since realized that the quality of my life now is the result of the things I did—and didn’t do—when I was younger. The things I didn’t do, having had no intention of ever being old anyway.
If you make no plans for the future, there will be no future for you. I have had many people, both Christians and otherwise, make it clear that there is no purpose in planning beyond the year 2000, the end of the millennium. When I consider how many people think that way, it is nearly enough to make me want to give up with them. But you see, the only reason for giving up is because you are giving up. Like the teenager choosing punishment over responsibility, choosing to believe there is no future is just releasing yourself from the obligation to act positively. If the entire world were to die in a grand car crash, what did you expect? To have a future, you must plan for one. To deserve eternity, you must plan for it as well. If anyone will live forever, it will already have started in their heart, and the result will be a hopeful feeling even now. This divides the optimist from the pessimist, the "believer" from the unbeliever. Expect the best!
NEEDING A MESSIAH
Logic tells me that my concern for anyone is selfish unless I have the same compassion for all others, regardless of how undeserving or unknown they may be to me. Unless I would sacrifice myself in their place, without judgment and without resentment, I am merely concerned with my own. This means I cannot disqualify anyone from the love I give, or I am simply loving because it serves me. Through this, we begin to understand the love that would have to be displayed by a Messiah—an example without which we would not comprehend what selfless love truly is. It’s like knowing the color red without ever having seen it. Such a trait would have to be demonstrated because it is not naturally displayed in the world. In Romans 5, Paul speaks of this love being shown by God through the sacrifice of Jesus. This is the fundamental message of the Bible, from beginning to end.
Someday, I will learn to care for the multitudes. For now, I must be content with knowing that my love is sometimes clouded by selfishness, but at least I can recognize its pure form as unconditional. My desire is to be compassionate, and I believe the love working in me is perfect. I know this is true, because it is love that drives the compassion I feel for people I’ve never met. I identify with them because I want to help. And we all do this, to some degree. Not for the expectation of reward, but because love stands alone in the face of selfishness, which is the driving force of "survival of the fittest" in nature. This love is not the limited attachment that a wolf pup feels for its mother; it is more akin to the love that the mother wolf might feel for a poodle. It is a selfless act. True love stands in opposition to the very laws of nature. When there is no selfishness attached, it becomes a perfect, self-justifying action. And because we can imagine it pure, it already existed. The only question is whether humans can accomplish it. The answer is we cannot—except that God first gave us the example in Jesus. If you read about the Apostle Peter, you'll understand what I mean. We can’t be selfless without God’s strength.
In China, countless people endure unimaginable suffering. They are willing to stand for the one thing that cannot be taken from them, having lost everything else. Their value on this earth is nearly zero. If they disappear, no one will miss them. Some even know that they "will" disappear, at the hands of some human oppressor. I can see what they see, though only in my mind, because I understand that without the comforts I enjoy as an American, I am no different from them. Without the things around me that occupy my time, I am of no more value than they are. None of us are. So I ask myself: Will I be defined by the things I have, by the wealth I possess, or will I, like them, possess the one thing that no price can be placed upon? To do this, I must look past my possessions and see that suffering individual as myself. Without valuing ‘things,’ there is no difference between us—only circumstance. And here lies a great test. Will I call circumstance luck, fate, or coincidence? Or will I call it the will of God? If I say it’s luck, then I am free to be selfish, to ignore my brother’s pleas if I wish, and simply pity him. I may or may not help. But if I recognize circumstance as God’s will, then I am obligated to obey the laws He has set. I am obligated to conduct myself with my wealth in a way that pleases God. The point here is not to question whether God interacts in our destiny—though I must mention that I believe there are some things God cannot alter without breaking His own laws—but rather to recognize that if it is God’s will, I am obligated by His law. It is the requirement of love. If I am to love you, I must feel obligated to you, to give myself to you. (It is worth noting that the very idea of obligation points to the existence of a God, as it places us in the position of servants.) Love IS the act of giving. True love is an expression of power within us. The act of giving selflessly is the only visible evidence of the force of love. And that love, in turn, requires faith, because such actions are motivated by a desire to believe in supreme justice. If there were no other argument for Jesus being the Messiah, this alone would suffice. He is the perfect example of sacrifice, as it appears God sacrificed Himself for us. Here again, I would choose to believe, just in case, even if I otherwise wouldn’t.
Christianity tells us that Jesus is the only name by which we "must" be saved. The logic behind this is clear. Jesus is the only God who died to show us an example of selfless love. It is only selfishness and apathy that prevent someone from closely examining the example of the cross, just as it is selfishness that keeps us from considering the needs of that Chinese peasant we know exists beyond our sight. The cross tells us not to pity that peasant, but to pity ourselves. For if the cross is our view of God, then the peasant’s saving grace is not our compassion for him, but God’s. And he is more assured of survival than we are, being less entangled in the selfishness of possessions. The cross calls us, the privileged, to look beyond our wealth, because by focusing solely on what’s near us, we blind ourselves to the whole. We are the ones who should fear being lost, and it is the peasant who is nearer to finding the truth. The cross, by being the example of a selfless God, turns the system upside down. We, the privileged, are the ones with the dimmest view of God, obscured by possessions, which are synonymous with selfishness. Even the poorest individuals in America know they will live, consumed by their desire for THINGS. It is the nature of the wealthiest nation in the world, where we are all entangled in the desire for more. To deny this is to lie about the true motivations of our lives, and to be blind to the logical truth. For no matter how genuine we feel our motives to be, they are still contained within the prison of ‘self-service.’ When we, together with the peasant, finally arrive at death, who will have the truer spirit? I fear I may not be as worthy as that peasant, who is always ready to sacrifice his life, having nothing in this world worth living for. I know, by faith in the nature of selfless love, and by the unbiased perspective a Christian peasant would have of me in the selfish environment of America, that he would be praying diligently for my soul.
I believe his selfless prayers for me will be answered. I also believe in the justice of a God who sees me as ‘weakened by possession.’ There is hope for even me, if I am willing to face the truth.
There is hope in believing in God—that is the obvious reason to do so, even if it leaves us in a vulnerable position. It remains hidden to the selfish, as God intends. They, by being turned inward, simply see obligation as a weakness, and that is how true love would appear to a wolf mother. She has no soul to feel compassion for a poodle. Jesus, by the very nature of His life, as it is portrayed in history, seeks to establish within us the hope that God loves us with this perfect love, obligating us to Him by His selfless sacrifice for us. It is an example worth believing in for very logical reasons, and the only reason one would refuse to believe is out of a refusal to accept responsibility. This chosen blindness is called rebellion. Living, I am beginning to understand that living is synonymous with loving. Indeed, Jesus is the Messiah, because there is no other moral force that demands so much or offers so much purpose (or virtue) to our civilization. He is the Messiah because no other individual could challenge Him for the position, in ancient or modern history. While there are many options to choose from, none exhibit all the qualifications Jesus does to deserve this role. Since He is the Messiah, the price for our mistakes has already been paid in the eyes of our Creator, and it cannot be undone. Some of us can rest easy in the assurance of being accepted by Almighty God. Even if some may see this as delusion, think about what a delusion it must be to believe in Jesus! If the price has already been paid, then the path before us is simply to define the success we have already attained—IF we believe. We believe by hoping. We hope by acting in faith. The act is the act of love. And love is a gift—not something you give, but something you are given. Only a loving God could give you this gift of being able to love.
This reaches beyond the limits of time and space, as the actions of a God must. If He is saving us, then He must place us on a timeless path, one that we have already walked to an end we cannot yet see. Being timeless, we are already, and have always been, with God. That is what timelessness is to us, as viewed from within the laws of the universe. To be saved, we must be predestined. This view makes ideas like reincarnation and other philosophical notions seem self-motivated and limiting for a God who requires no such loopholes. Like believing in aliens, these ideas are unnecessary, as they remove the responsibility to love from the inhabitants of this one tiny jewel in the vast universe and open the door to fear and superstition. The worst scenario would be that the entire universe was made just for us. This places serious implications on the results of our actions while removing irrational fears from our minds. By embracing the simplest possibility, it seems that God is inviting us to trust Him unconditionally in a world where purpose and fairness are often obscured by circumstance
Logic tells me that my concern for anyone is selfish unless I have the same compassion for all others, regardless of how undeserving or unknown they may be to me. Unless I would sacrifice myself in their place, without judgment and without resentment, I am merely concerned with my own. This means I cannot disqualify anyone from the love I give, or I am simply loving because it serves me. Through this, we begin to understand the love that would have to be displayed by a Messiah—an example without which we would not comprehend what selfless love truly is. It’s like knowing the color red without ever having seen it. Such a trait would have to be demonstrated because it is not naturally displayed in the world. In Romans 5, Paul speaks of this love being shown by God through the sacrifice of Jesus. This is the fundamental message of the Bible, from beginning to end.
Someday, I will learn to care for the multitudes. For now, I must be content with knowing that my love is sometimes clouded by selfishness, but at least I can recognize its pure form as unconditional. My desire is to be compassionate, and I believe the love working in me is perfect. I know this is true, because it is love that drives the compassion I feel for people I’ve never met. I identify with them because I want to help. And we all do this, to some degree. Not for the expectation of reward, but because love stands alone in the face of selfishness, which is the driving force of "survival of the fittest" in nature. This love is not the limited attachment that a wolf pup feels for its mother; it is more akin to the love that the mother wolf might feel for a poodle. It is a selfless act. True love stands in opposition to the very laws of nature. When there is no selfishness attached, it becomes a perfect, self-justifying action. And because we can imagine it pure, it already existed. The only question is whether humans can accomplish it. The answer is we cannot—except that God first gave us the example in Jesus. If you read about the Apostle Peter, you'll understand what I mean. We can’t be selfless without God’s strength.
In China, countless people endure unimaginable suffering. They are willing to stand for the one thing that cannot be taken from them, having lost everything else. Their value on this earth is nearly zero. If they disappear, no one will miss them. Some even know that they "will" disappear, at the hands of some human oppressor. I can see what they see, though only in my mind, because I understand that without the comforts I enjoy as an American, I am no different from them. Without the things around me that occupy my time, I am of no more value than they are. None of us are. So I ask myself: Will I be defined by the things I have, by the wealth I possess, or will I, like them, possess the one thing that no price can be placed upon? To do this, I must look past my possessions and see that suffering individual as myself. Without valuing ‘things,’ there is no difference between us—only circumstance. And here lies a great test. Will I call circumstance luck, fate, or coincidence? Or will I call it the will of God? If I say it’s luck, then I am free to be selfish, to ignore my brother’s pleas if I wish, and simply pity him. I may or may not help. But if I recognize circumstance as God’s will, then I am obligated to obey the laws He has set. I am obligated to conduct myself with my wealth in a way that pleases God. The point here is not to question whether God interacts in our destiny—though I must mention that I believe there are some things God cannot alter without breaking His own laws—but rather to recognize that if it is God’s will, I am obligated by His law. It is the requirement of love. If I am to love you, I must feel obligated to you, to give myself to you. (It is worth noting that the very idea of obligation points to the existence of a God, as it places us in the position of servants.) Love IS the act of giving. True love is an expression of power within us. The act of giving selflessly is the only visible evidence of the force of love. And that love, in turn, requires faith, because such actions are motivated by a desire to believe in supreme justice. If there were no other argument for Jesus being the Messiah, this alone would suffice. He is the perfect example of sacrifice, as it appears God sacrificed Himself for us. Here again, I would choose to believe, just in case, even if I otherwise wouldn’t.
Christianity tells us that Jesus is the only name by which we "must" be saved. The logic behind this is clear. Jesus is the only God who died to show us an example of selfless love. It is only selfishness and apathy that prevent someone from closely examining the example of the cross, just as it is selfishness that keeps us from considering the needs of that Chinese peasant we know exists beyond our sight. The cross tells us not to pity that peasant, but to pity ourselves. For if the cross is our view of God, then the peasant’s saving grace is not our compassion for him, but God’s. And he is more assured of survival than we are, being less entangled in the selfishness of possessions. The cross calls us, the privileged, to look beyond our wealth, because by focusing solely on what’s near us, we blind ourselves to the whole. We are the ones who should fear being lost, and it is the peasant who is nearer to finding the truth. The cross, by being the example of a selfless God, turns the system upside down. We, the privileged, are the ones with the dimmest view of God, obscured by possessions, which are synonymous with selfishness. Even the poorest individuals in America know they will live, consumed by their desire for THINGS. It is the nature of the wealthiest nation in the world, where we are all entangled in the desire for more. To deny this is to lie about the true motivations of our lives, and to be blind to the logical truth. For no matter how genuine we feel our motives to be, they are still contained within the prison of ‘self-service.’ When we, together with the peasant, finally arrive at death, who will have the truer spirit? I fear I may not be as worthy as that peasant, who is always ready to sacrifice his life, having nothing in this world worth living for. I know, by faith in the nature of selfless love, and by the unbiased perspective a Christian peasant would have of me in the selfish environment of America, that he would be praying diligently for my soul.
I believe his selfless prayers for me will be answered. I also believe in the justice of a God who sees me as ‘weakened by possession.’ There is hope for even me, if I am willing to face the truth.
There is hope in believing in God—that is the obvious reason to do so, even if it leaves us in a vulnerable position. It remains hidden to the selfish, as God intends. They, by being turned inward, simply see obligation as a weakness, and that is how true love would appear to a wolf mother. She has no soul to feel compassion for a poodle. Jesus, by the very nature of His life, as it is portrayed in history, seeks to establish within us the hope that God loves us with this perfect love, obligating us to Him by His selfless sacrifice for us. It is an example worth believing in for very logical reasons, and the only reason one would refuse to believe is out of a refusal to accept responsibility. This chosen blindness is called rebellion. Living, I am beginning to understand that living is synonymous with loving. Indeed, Jesus is the Messiah, because there is no other moral force that demands so much or offers so much purpose (or virtue) to our civilization. He is the Messiah because no other individual could challenge Him for the position, in ancient or modern history. While there are many options to choose from, none exhibit all the qualifications Jesus does to deserve this role. Since He is the Messiah, the price for our mistakes has already been paid in the eyes of our Creator, and it cannot be undone. Some of us can rest easy in the assurance of being accepted by Almighty God. Even if some may see this as delusion, think about what a delusion it must be to believe in Jesus! If the price has already been paid, then the path before us is simply to define the success we have already attained—IF we believe. We believe by hoping. We hope by acting in faith. The act is the act of love. And love is a gift—not something you give, but something you are given. Only a loving God could give you this gift of being able to love.
This reaches beyond the limits of time and space, as the actions of a God must. If He is saving us, then He must place us on a timeless path, one that we have already walked to an end we cannot yet see. Being timeless, we are already, and have always been, with God. That is what timelessness is to us, as viewed from within the laws of the universe. To be saved, we must be predestined. This view makes ideas like reincarnation and other philosophical notions seem self-motivated and limiting for a God who requires no such loopholes. Like believing in aliens, these ideas are unnecessary, as they remove the responsibility to love from the inhabitants of this one tiny jewel in the vast universe and open the door to fear and superstition. The worst scenario would be that the entire universe was made just for us. This places serious implications on the results of our actions while removing irrational fears from our minds. By embracing the simplest possibility, it seems that God is inviting us to trust Him unconditionally in a world where purpose and fairness are often obscured by circumstance
CHILDREN
Circumstance can be a valid excuse for failure, but excuses of any kind cannot be accepted by a perfect God. Excuses are simply a lesser form of chaos, as they justify negative actions or thoughts. We cannot seek excuses and still maintain a positive outlook. Faith requires no second chances like those excuses would demand, and hope requires no intellectual reasoning. Both are virtues that we all possess, the very fabric of our ‘SELF’. They are so accessible that they eliminate any motivation to fail, even in the face of adverse circumstances. Selfishness is the only thing that can motivate us to fail to be positive, by prompting us to seek excuses. Thus, selfishness is chaos.
In this regard, we are all equal—whether intellectually gifted or unaware of what motivates the world, whether wealthy in mind, influence, finances, or a peasant in every respect, we are exactly the same. But for this view to hold, there must be a God who, in the end, will be entirely fair in judgment, judging each of us based on our opportunity, not our intellect. This suggests that perfection does not require intellectual thought, as intellectualism depends on the gifts possessed by the individual. It is reasonable, then, that we cannot achieve perfection from a place of chaos, using imperfect tools like thought. We are clearly in a state somewhere in chaos. Like laws, each thought binds us to chaos, rather than releasing us. By its very nature, knowledge is chaos. From God's perspective, there is no difference between any of us. To Him, we are all children—either humble or proud, we are still children. And relative to Him, we are also lost children. Our hearts and minds have the capacity not only to recognize our limitations and reason our own death but also to imagine the unimaginable—like eternity, perfection, and God. It would seem, then, that we are meant to be something we are not.
Circumstance can be a valid excuse for failure, but excuses of any kind cannot be accepted by a perfect God. Excuses are simply a lesser form of chaos, as they justify negative actions or thoughts. We cannot seek excuses and still maintain a positive outlook. Faith requires no second chances like those excuses would demand, and hope requires no intellectual reasoning. Both are virtues that we all possess, the very fabric of our ‘SELF’. They are so accessible that they eliminate any motivation to fail, even in the face of adverse circumstances. Selfishness is the only thing that can motivate us to fail to be positive, by prompting us to seek excuses. Thus, selfishness is chaos.
In this regard, we are all equal—whether intellectually gifted or unaware of what motivates the world, whether wealthy in mind, influence, finances, or a peasant in every respect, we are exactly the same. But for this view to hold, there must be a God who, in the end, will be entirely fair in judgment, judging each of us based on our opportunity, not our intellect. This suggests that perfection does not require intellectual thought, as intellectualism depends on the gifts possessed by the individual. It is reasonable, then, that we cannot achieve perfection from a place of chaos, using imperfect tools like thought. We are clearly in a state somewhere in chaos. Like laws, each thought binds us to chaos, rather than releasing us. By its very nature, knowledge is chaos. From God's perspective, there is no difference between any of us. To Him, we are all children—either humble or proud, we are still children. And relative to Him, we are also lost children. Our hearts and minds have the capacity not only to recognize our limitations and reason our own death but also to imagine the unimaginable—like eternity, perfection, and God. It would seem, then, that we are meant to be something we are not.
HOPE
Imagine being so uninterested in this world that, if God called you saying, "Well done, come now," you would go willingly. Without regret, you would leave, knowing that you and all those you leave behind are safely in your Father’s hands. The peasant can do this. He can because he sees his life plainly, not blinded by wealth or personal agendas. Upon our death, stripped of all else, so too will the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this realization comes too late for many, who fail to understand what God cannot work out for us. We must enter without intellectualism, as children, accepting our vulnerabilities as truth, not imagining ourselves the center of the universe, able to save ourselves.
I have been reasoning here as though there is a God, because IF THERE IS NO GOD, THEN NOTHING MATTERS! If there is no God, go ahead and step on anyone to get ahead, take advantage of everything you can while you can!
Next, I want to suggest that if there is a God, then Jesus is the best example of the most loving God imaginable. You see, God would have to show us that life and love are two different names for the same thing. He would have to become the example of what that means and transcend the circumstances of temporal life, giving us examples of what is necessary to live forever. In the case of Jesus, it meant sacrifice. Often, sacrifice is the truest expression of love. In a world governed by the laws of entropy (decay), it becomes the obvious marker of true love. Jesus died for us to show us, through His example, how to be selfless. He also did for us what we could not do for ourselves: He made us perfect in God’s sight by our desire to be like Him. To do this, He had to BE God Himself, in order to have the authority to overthrow the law that the Creator had spoken and could not break, which stated, “If man rebels, he will die.” A Messiah could overturn that law by dying undeservedly, while also possessing the authority of God. It is not necessary for anyone to fully understand this to live, though. Whether we comprehend it or not, it was still accomplished. It did not require any action on our part, including intellectual knowledge. His sacrifice was a gift that we could not earn through anything we do in this world, though to relate to it, we must try to keep it in practice. In the matter of God and perfection (or holiness), knowledge is the greatest handicap, while hope is the milk of eternity. Hope is the basic sustenance an eternal child needs to survive. It is fed to us, and we simply must drink it. And when it comes to hope, we are all infants, dependent on it for our very survival. And “faith is the substance of things hoped for.”
If you don’t believe there is a God, then for you, there isn’t. If you hope there is a God but can’t be sure, then your hope will transform into faith and conviction, securing you if you continue acting upon it. So, whisper this very moment, "I hope." We must assume there is a God in order to be worthy of life (LOVE). It can be argued that belief is merely a reflex we’ve developed to create contentment in our lives.
But I say again, 'IF THERE IS NO GOD, THEN NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!’ We would simply die, and any act of love would be a waste of time. In that case, all our efforts to create community would be wasted. For 6,000 years, we have tried to become more civilized and less superstitious. That was all for nothing if we are no more than dogs protecting our temporal territories. We must hope that there is purpose to our understanding in order to be worthy of each other’s unconditional love, though we will still receive it from those of us who have embraced hope in eternal justice. Jesus is a wonderful example of how eternal justice would manifest. Therefore, to be eternal in nature, we must look at the possibility of a Messiah and salvation with hope.
It seems reasonable to me that those who embrace hopelessness are the same ones who rebel against authority, choosing selfishness that obscures truth and creates false contentment by justifying less pure motives. If there were no God, then “let each man do what is in his own mind.” No rules could apply to an individual’s life if there is no ultimate moral law that each must answer to. Anything one might do would be acceptable. Chaos would be the only law.
The logic that follows is clear. One who believes in God defines their actions by a higher set of moral values, because they are trying to be worthy in the sight of a perfect Father, one who (as a believer) they see as present, watching, guiding, and convicting them always. The traits that result from this belief are responsibility, goodness, integrity, sobriety, and compassion. These attitudes are not born out of fear, but out of a desire for the admiration of a Father that a child seeks. Love is the nature of the Father. We must learn this from Him, as it is required to be spiritually alive. We must learn it from our Father God, because it is logically understood to be unavailable in this world. Whatever love I can imagine, I only do so because it has been made apparent to me, despite its non-existence in this world. Like the wolf’s love for the poodle, it could not exist here, as it contradicts the rules of survival that govern the universe. Father God’s only requirement in return for His gift, it seems, is for us to learn to truly love. It is the only rule of His household.
Imagine being so uninterested in this world that, if God called you saying, "Well done, come now," you would go willingly. Without regret, you would leave, knowing that you and all those you leave behind are safely in your Father’s hands. The peasant can do this. He can because he sees his life plainly, not blinded by wealth or personal agendas. Upon our death, stripped of all else, so too will the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this realization comes too late for many, who fail to understand what God cannot work out for us. We must enter without intellectualism, as children, accepting our vulnerabilities as truth, not imagining ourselves the center of the universe, able to save ourselves.
I have been reasoning here as though there is a God, because IF THERE IS NO GOD, THEN NOTHING MATTERS! If there is no God, go ahead and step on anyone to get ahead, take advantage of everything you can while you can!
Next, I want to suggest that if there is a God, then Jesus is the best example of the most loving God imaginable. You see, God would have to show us that life and love are two different names for the same thing. He would have to become the example of what that means and transcend the circumstances of temporal life, giving us examples of what is necessary to live forever. In the case of Jesus, it meant sacrifice. Often, sacrifice is the truest expression of love. In a world governed by the laws of entropy (decay), it becomes the obvious marker of true love. Jesus died for us to show us, through His example, how to be selfless. He also did for us what we could not do for ourselves: He made us perfect in God’s sight by our desire to be like Him. To do this, He had to BE God Himself, in order to have the authority to overthrow the law that the Creator had spoken and could not break, which stated, “If man rebels, he will die.” A Messiah could overturn that law by dying undeservedly, while also possessing the authority of God. It is not necessary for anyone to fully understand this to live, though. Whether we comprehend it or not, it was still accomplished. It did not require any action on our part, including intellectual knowledge. His sacrifice was a gift that we could not earn through anything we do in this world, though to relate to it, we must try to keep it in practice. In the matter of God and perfection (or holiness), knowledge is the greatest handicap, while hope is the milk of eternity. Hope is the basic sustenance an eternal child needs to survive. It is fed to us, and we simply must drink it. And when it comes to hope, we are all infants, dependent on it for our very survival. And “faith is the substance of things hoped for.”
If you don’t believe there is a God, then for you, there isn’t. If you hope there is a God but can’t be sure, then your hope will transform into faith and conviction, securing you if you continue acting upon it. So, whisper this very moment, "I hope." We must assume there is a God in order to be worthy of life (LOVE). It can be argued that belief is merely a reflex we’ve developed to create contentment in our lives.
But I say again, 'IF THERE IS NO GOD, THEN NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!’ We would simply die, and any act of love would be a waste of time. In that case, all our efforts to create community would be wasted. For 6,000 years, we have tried to become more civilized and less superstitious. That was all for nothing if we are no more than dogs protecting our temporal territories. We must hope that there is purpose to our understanding in order to be worthy of each other’s unconditional love, though we will still receive it from those of us who have embraced hope in eternal justice. Jesus is a wonderful example of how eternal justice would manifest. Therefore, to be eternal in nature, we must look at the possibility of a Messiah and salvation with hope.
It seems reasonable to me that those who embrace hopelessness are the same ones who rebel against authority, choosing selfishness that obscures truth and creates false contentment by justifying less pure motives. If there were no God, then “let each man do what is in his own mind.” No rules could apply to an individual’s life if there is no ultimate moral law that each must answer to. Anything one might do would be acceptable. Chaos would be the only law.
The logic that follows is clear. One who believes in God defines their actions by a higher set of moral values, because they are trying to be worthy in the sight of a perfect Father, one who (as a believer) they see as present, watching, guiding, and convicting them always. The traits that result from this belief are responsibility, goodness, integrity, sobriety, and compassion. These attitudes are not born out of fear, but out of a desire for the admiration of a Father that a child seeks. Love is the nature of the Father. We must learn this from Him, as it is required to be spiritually alive. We must learn it from our Father God, because it is logically understood to be unavailable in this world. Whatever love I can imagine, I only do so because it has been made apparent to me, despite its non-existence in this world. Like the wolf’s love for the poodle, it could not exist here, as it contradicts the rules of survival that govern the universe. Father God’s only requirement in return for His gift, it seems, is for us to learn to truly love. It is the only rule of His household.
MANIPULATION
How can we be worthy of such things? Because, as Christians, we have learned through faith to see the unseeable, to know the unknowable things of how far beyond our vision God goes. We have seen how great His heart is, as seen through our tiny hearts. We measure the unmeasurable with the instrument of faith. It is the tool of understanding that He has provided us. We know Him through the use of His tools.
What we, as Christians, see beyond this life through the window of faith is the truth. The message Jesus brought into our world was perfect. There was no selfish motive hidden there. And if Jesus was manipulating us, consider the purpose. His actions were driven by a willingness to die where there was no possibility of personal gain. Then, with this, to be the one who spoke of God “as one who had authority,” He has become the best example we have of the perfect, selfless man.
If I manipulate you into living forever, is that okay? Well, if I can, I will!
Would God manipulate us? I hope so. If He is the loving God I have come to imagine Him to be, justified only by being perfect and holy, I hope so. I pray such a God will manipulate me.
I have heard it said that there are no absolute truths, that every action is justified by the circumstances surrounding it. But circumstance is no excuse for those who are unwilling to fall back on excuses. For such individuals, truth IS absolute. It simply is the knowledge of what actually exists, and there is only one existence. That is the only thing that makes us responsible for each other. For them, there is absolute hope in absolute justice. And oh, do I hope.
Hope to be judged? Yes! It means I will see the face of God. Hope to be saved? Yes! It will mean that God loved me enough to find my way when I could not. Hope to be loved by God? You see, we are practicing that gift of love this moment, as our hearts break the boundaries of this life, and we see these things. To absolute holiness, we can only say, yes.
How can we be worthy of such things? Because, as Christians, we have learned through faith to see the unseeable, to know the unknowable things of how far beyond our vision God goes. We have seen how great His heart is, as seen through our tiny hearts. We measure the unmeasurable with the instrument of faith. It is the tool of understanding that He has provided us. We know Him through the use of His tools.
What we, as Christians, see beyond this life through the window of faith is the truth. The message Jesus brought into our world was perfect. There was no selfish motive hidden there. And if Jesus was manipulating us, consider the purpose. His actions were driven by a willingness to die where there was no possibility of personal gain. Then, with this, to be the one who spoke of God “as one who had authority,” He has become the best example we have of the perfect, selfless man.
If I manipulate you into living forever, is that okay? Well, if I can, I will!
Would God manipulate us? I hope so. If He is the loving God I have come to imagine Him to be, justified only by being perfect and holy, I hope so. I pray such a God will manipulate me.
I have heard it said that there are no absolute truths, that every action is justified by the circumstances surrounding it. But circumstance is no excuse for those who are unwilling to fall back on excuses. For such individuals, truth IS absolute. It simply is the knowledge of what actually exists, and there is only one existence. That is the only thing that makes us responsible for each other. For them, there is absolute hope in absolute justice. And oh, do I hope.
Hope to be judged? Yes! It means I will see the face of God. Hope to be saved? Yes! It will mean that God loved me enough to find my way when I could not. Hope to be loved by God? You see, we are practicing that gift of love this moment, as our hearts break the boundaries of this life, and we see these things. To absolute holiness, we can only say, yes.
SEEING GOD
I have tried endlessly to imagine what my son Isaac endured, locked behind bars for months. I cannot. I suppose, at that time, he was trying endlessly to imagine what it was like to be me, enjoying the freedom of choice I had as a free American. I doubt he could, though he wished and longed. Well, I try endlessly to imagine what life with God will be like too. No time. No distance. No things. Perfect. To be exactly what I was made for, exactly who I really am. This is the point of life, I mean. Life as we now know it is an exercise in understanding. Through life, we are being taught to reach beyond the laws of physics that bind us to death. We are learning trust.
Though I am not in China, or in jail, or in heaven, though I cannot imagine those places clearly, I can understand. Just as I understand my Creator, what He meant when He spoke me into existence. That I was nothing, and now, by His loving grace, I am. I am.
There is no price that can be placed on this very moment of wisdom and understanding. It is a gift beyond price, beyond any equal in the vast universe created as its stage.
We are so, so precious to our Father God. So precious that He was willing to die for us.
God is more than we can ever imagine. And that is our only hope.
I have tried endlessly to imagine what my son Isaac endured, locked behind bars for months. I cannot. I suppose, at that time, he was trying endlessly to imagine what it was like to be me, enjoying the freedom of choice I had as a free American. I doubt he could, though he wished and longed. Well, I try endlessly to imagine what life with God will be like too. No time. No distance. No things. Perfect. To be exactly what I was made for, exactly who I really am. This is the point of life, I mean. Life as we now know it is an exercise in understanding. Through life, we are being taught to reach beyond the laws of physics that bind us to death. We are learning trust.
Though I am not in China, or in jail, or in heaven, though I cannot imagine those places clearly, I can understand. Just as I understand my Creator, what He meant when He spoke me into existence. That I was nothing, and now, by His loving grace, I am. I am.
There is no price that can be placed on this very moment of wisdom and understanding. It is a gift beyond price, beyond any equal in the vast universe created as its stage.
We are so, so precious to our Father God. So precious that He was willing to die for us.
God is more than we can ever imagine. And that is our only hope.