Continuing the theme from my previous post, my brain is about the consistency of scrambled eggs right now.
I believe in my head that God exists. I have felt His presence, experienced His love, seen His work. I have read about Him, prayed to Him, learned about Him–my whole life. I can recite creed upon creed, verse upon verse, catechism upon catechism.
Yet, sometimes the “god-concept” seems so…distant, removed, futile. War, sickness, injustice. Call me a deist.
What if “god” doesn’t really exist? Suppose Man did create “god” out of ignorance and fear? It could make sense. Call me an atheist.
In the absence of god, what would be left? Only Man. Is there anything eternal? What matters? Call me a nihilist. (Honestly, if I were convinced that there were no god, I would probably ascribe to Nietzsche’s philosophy. It makes the most sense in the absence of the Divine and Eternal.)
But where does morality come from? If not God, is there objective morality? I believe firmly in the concept of objective morality, so what do you call me now?
I like data. Empiricism might just be the pinnacle of Man’s ability to observe and experience. But I’m no humanist (sorry…Man is too depraved) or materialist/naturalist (back to the objective morality thing), and I’m not a huge fan of what I understand of existentialism (which isn’t much).
I’m confused. Call me an agnostic.
The problem is, I’m not well-enough versed in philosophy to be able to delve into the depths of these different worldviews. I fear that if I did read more, I would merely grow more and more confused. And infusing me with more Sunday school/Christian studies class Christianity just makes me increasingly apathetic. Besides that, those settings have the inherent bias of “You question? [intellectual shut down]”.
On the other hand, though, if it weren’t for my lifelong inundation with all things Christian, I probably would be some sort of an agnostic or nihilist by now. Firm foundations are important. Even if my house is carbonized in an inferno or gets blown over by a hurricane, there’s a chance, at least, that the foundation will still be there. And somewhere, even in my unending state of pessimism, there’s a glimmer in the tunnel (and no, it’s not a train…I hope). I see it in some of my closer friends who so gracefully and eloquently express–and live–their faith. It’s tacky, but they really are “Christianity with skin” to me. Sometimes, that’s all I have to grasp.
Call me a seeker.