Every time I was asked by an atheist why God would allow evil things to happen in the world, my response would be,"There is evil in the world because man has freewill;" a superficial answer the church has been propagating since its inception. It's not God's fault if man chooses to do their own will outside the constructs of his word. It was this way of thinking that allowed me to excuse God for his lack of interference and shift the blame on others. God was righteous after all and would never do anything evil or so I believed. That is, until one day, I woke up and discovered the fallacy in this belief.
"You can't apply human reasoning to God's will," is what my wife said to me the evening I learned that my friend's child had passed away from a heart anomaly. Those words were key that night as I sat their distraught by this desultory. Was I really to believe that God was not at fault for this loss? If God was omnipresent and in all places at all times, then I can deduce that he is present when ill things happen to innocent people and he does nothing to stop it. Yet, he is not to be blamed because we must believe that as much as he wants to interfere, he must allow humans the freewill to do what they want. I asked my wife, "If a rapist overcame you and I was in the room and stood by as you were raped, am I to be blamed?" "Yes," she replied. When asked if God should be blamed, she answered, "No." Somehow, this blame could not be put on God. I assured my wife that my love for her was so true and that I would fight to the death before I let a man rape her. Why wouldn't her creator who claims to love her with reckless love, interfere and spare her from the rape? My inquiries pushed me to hire an investigation on the validity of God's existence.
I never imagined questioning God, I was after all what you could call a devout believer. I had been raised in Christian doctrine and over time challenged my faith by delving deeper into theological studies. I had formulated well-thought-out apologetic answers for Christianity. I was the man who claimed that his faith could not be shaken if the bible was proven false. I believed nature was sufficient to convince me of his existence and orderly nature. The message of his salvation was in my DNA, so I believed. I had heard the good news and knew it to be true without a grain of doubt. What I didn't realize then, was that I had a cornerstone for the structure of my faith, but it never had a foundation to lie on. That is because Christianity and even Judaism its predecessor could never offer one. By the time I realized that I had built a cathedral to the almighty on no foundation, the tumultuous winds of life came through and caused this majestic house of God to tumble. I had no where else to go for answers. I was at a loss.
I didn't seek out atheism as an immediate aid. I was not going to abandon God that easily, he had been an ally for so long, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Who I thought God to be was a jumble at this point. I couldn't piece him back together again. I tried. I even attempted to ignore the nature of God in scripture that did not align with the idea of love. I ignored all the terrible things he had done in the name of righteousness and conspired that man had added to the bible things that God was not. I was clutching at straws; it was impossible to ignore his wicked nature. God's mere idea of righteousness created bigotry and that in turn produced hate. I entertained the idea of two gods, one called Jehovah and the other Jesus. I had known these two to be one, but perhaps I had been taught wrong. This idea of polytheism bothered me more than monotheism. I would have to deal with more than one god and this was more overwhelming. Besides, Jesus turned into a killing machine in the book of Jude, Isaiah, Revelation and a few other prophetic books. God became what I imagined as ying-yang, good and evil, and I would just need to accept this fact. I couldn't. I had to trust this god was balanced, but knowing all too well what he intended to do to those who disagreed with him didn't settle well with me. I decided to toss the bible out of the equation. I would believe in a good god who was out there and was misunderstood by Christianity and other religions. I would become agnostic. I only had to go out and find him and the truth would be revealed to me. How wrong I was.
I felt like an orphan in search of his real parents. I had no clue whether God was alive, whether he could be found in another religion or if he even cared about me. Christianity had always filled that void for me. I was told I was a son, that I had a father, who was very much alive and was waiting for me to return home because I had walked away from him. He loved me so much, he had offered up himself as a sacrifice as a way for me to return home. For any wandering orphan this father and home appeals to that void. The problem was, I had lived in that home and found the master to be finicky on how his household is run. Wrathful and ready to strip you of any legal rights if you strayed from his rules. This god was no real father. He was not love, rather he was coercing me into a continual penance. If there was another father out there who cared for me, he wasn't showing up. I knew that no one was coming for me and I wasn't going to find anyone who could simply love me unconditionally (that is because God according to the scriptures can only love conditionally). This is when I realized there was no god and no after life. I became suicidal. What I was suggesting was thoroughly blasphemous. I would be blaspheming the holy spirit and the message of salvation. A war raged within my soul and death almost claimed me. I want to say I'm exaggerating, but when you have been taught that eternity is in the hands of those who believe in Jesus and hell for those who reject him, how can anyone chose to not believe in him? I had to let go of this theology and accept the reality of death. Death was inevitable and would eventually come to all.
Death and I became friends from that day forward. Death taught me more about life than Jesus and the bible. Death taught me that I had this one life to live to its fullest. It taught me that I can make choices that can make lasting impressions on future generations. I learned that I had the power to change for good and make choices that would make my life fulfilling for me and those around me. Death taught me freedom like I had never known before. Death was not an entity I would come to worship, but a friend I would meet eventually. My legacy would be the one I left behind for family and friends. They would do the same and the circle of life would continue. I was no longer afraid of death. I was no longer intimidated by a wrathful God. I was free to be myself. I want to be a good person and that is what I continue to strive for. I make errors and fall, but I pick myself and dust myself off and try again. I'm living and that feeling is so real and solid. I hope it is for you too!
"You can't apply human reasoning to God's will," is what my wife said to me the evening I learned that my friend's child had passed away from a heart anomaly. Those words were key that night as I sat their distraught by this desultory. Was I really to believe that God was not at fault for this loss? If God was omnipresent and in all places at all times, then I can deduce that he is present when ill things happen to innocent people and he does nothing to stop it. Yet, he is not to be blamed because we must believe that as much as he wants to interfere, he must allow humans the freewill to do what they want. I asked my wife, "If a rapist overcame you and I was in the room and stood by as you were raped, am I to be blamed?" "Yes," she replied. When asked if God should be blamed, she answered, "No." Somehow, this blame could not be put on God. I assured my wife that my love for her was so true and that I would fight to the death before I let a man rape her. Why wouldn't her creator who claims to love her with reckless love, interfere and spare her from the rape? My inquiries pushed me to hire an investigation on the validity of God's existence.
I never imagined questioning God, I was after all what you could call a devout believer. I had been raised in Christian doctrine and over time challenged my faith by delving deeper into theological studies. I had formulated well-thought-out apologetic answers for Christianity. I was the man who claimed that his faith could not be shaken if the bible was proven false. I believed nature was sufficient to convince me of his existence and orderly nature. The message of his salvation was in my DNA, so I believed. I had heard the good news and knew it to be true without a grain of doubt. What I didn't realize then, was that I had a cornerstone for the structure of my faith, but it never had a foundation to lie on. That is because Christianity and even Judaism its predecessor could never offer one. By the time I realized that I had built a cathedral to the almighty on no foundation, the tumultuous winds of life came through and caused this majestic house of God to tumble. I had no where else to go for answers. I was at a loss.
I didn't seek out atheism as an immediate aid. I was not going to abandon God that easily, he had been an ally for so long, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Who I thought God to be was a jumble at this point. I couldn't piece him back together again. I tried. I even attempted to ignore the nature of God in scripture that did not align with the idea of love. I ignored all the terrible things he had done in the name of righteousness and conspired that man had added to the bible things that God was not. I was clutching at straws; it was impossible to ignore his wicked nature. God's mere idea of righteousness created bigotry and that in turn produced hate. I entertained the idea of two gods, one called Jehovah and the other Jesus. I had known these two to be one, but perhaps I had been taught wrong. This idea of polytheism bothered me more than monotheism. I would have to deal with more than one god and this was more overwhelming. Besides, Jesus turned into a killing machine in the book of Jude, Isaiah, Revelation and a few other prophetic books. God became what I imagined as ying-yang, good and evil, and I would just need to accept this fact. I couldn't. I had to trust this god was balanced, but knowing all too well what he intended to do to those who disagreed with him didn't settle well with me. I decided to toss the bible out of the equation. I would believe in a good god who was out there and was misunderstood by Christianity and other religions. I would become agnostic. I only had to go out and find him and the truth would be revealed to me. How wrong I was.
I felt like an orphan in search of his real parents. I had no clue whether God was alive, whether he could be found in another religion or if he even cared about me. Christianity had always filled that void for me. I was told I was a son, that I had a father, who was very much alive and was waiting for me to return home because I had walked away from him. He loved me so much, he had offered up himself as a sacrifice as a way for me to return home. For any wandering orphan this father and home appeals to that void. The problem was, I had lived in that home and found the master to be finicky on how his household is run. Wrathful and ready to strip you of any legal rights if you strayed from his rules. This god was no real father. He was not love, rather he was coercing me into a continual penance. If there was another father out there who cared for me, he wasn't showing up. I knew that no one was coming for me and I wasn't going to find anyone who could simply love me unconditionally (that is because God according to the scriptures can only love conditionally). This is when I realized there was no god and no after life. I became suicidal. What I was suggesting was thoroughly blasphemous. I would be blaspheming the holy spirit and the message of salvation. A war raged within my soul and death almost claimed me. I want to say I'm exaggerating, but when you have been taught that eternity is in the hands of those who believe in Jesus and hell for those who reject him, how can anyone chose to not believe in him? I had to let go of this theology and accept the reality of death. Death was inevitable and would eventually come to all.
Death and I became friends from that day forward. Death taught me more about life than Jesus and the bible. Death taught me that I had this one life to live to its fullest. It taught me that I can make choices that can make lasting impressions on future generations. I learned that I had the power to change for good and make choices that would make my life fulfilling for me and those around me. Death taught me freedom like I had never known before. Death was not an entity I would come to worship, but a friend I would meet eventually. My legacy would be the one I left behind for family and friends. They would do the same and the circle of life would continue. I was no longer afraid of death. I was no longer intimidated by a wrathful God. I was free to be myself. I want to be a good person and that is what I continue to strive for. I make errors and fall, but I pick myself and dust myself off and try again. I'm living and that feeling is so real and solid. I hope it is for you too!
