
Journal Journal: Belief is a choice
Sometimes I wish I had strayed a little more from the applied sciences of engineering when I made my blazing run through university. I love to kick back at times, and let my mind ponder the higher things in life: why are we here? how can we solve the problems man faces? However, I have no exposure to the great philosophers, other than the few I've read on my own -- believe me, they are few. So with apologies to the reader, this amateur is about to take on questions that have stumped others with skills of greater depth and more finely tuned than my own. Care to read on, and see how well I do?
If you have read any of my previous posts (they're posted in reverse chronological order, so that the topmost journal entry is the most recent post), you will gather I am a person of faith. Faith must have an object, and the object of my faith is an invisible Person, Whom I've never actually seen. And here, in the modern era, most would point out the problem they perceive: how can you believe in something/Someone you've never seen? Let me turn the question around. What or whom do you believe in? How did you arrive at your beliefs?
The amateur philosopher pauses for breath, and dramatic effect.
The one sentient species I'm aware of, man, starts off pretty helpless. Usually mom and dad provide for the young one's needs: food, shelter, education. At some point, the tender young thing begins to make decisions for himself. Along the way, he picks up values and principles from role models in his life. Some personality quirks are ingrained (nature), some are caught (nurture). The lucky ones have a rich family heritage, one where mom or dad will tell funny stories about grandma or grandpa, or great-great-so-and-so. These stories take on epic characteristics, where the subject seems larger than life. But we listen with enjoyment, understanding that the main part of the story is based on something that actually happened.
Imagine that chain of family heritage is broken, as with ancient civilizations that have dried up and passed away. Who's left to tell the stories? Broken pottery, dilapidated stone structures, ashes from campfires long cold -- sounds like archaeology. The archaeologist combines an artist's rendition of the story of a forgotten people with the polkadotted facts he is able to gather from his digging. Not quite as rich as mom or dad passing down the traditions directly, but hopefully some of the story rings true.
So were you there when your mother and father had the romantic interlude that resulted in your conception? No? But you're pretty sure it happened, right? I wasn't there when the Big Bang happened, but thousands of scientists the world over have scraped over the evidence and put together the highlights of a story that strike pretty close to how things played out, so we guess. But the scientists' story can never convey the rich family heritage by merely poring over the facts. Just as a child grows strong and confident by the personal contact from a loving mother and father, lovingly passing on family values and rich heritage -- conversely, so too does a child wither and grow into less than a full person in the void of a loving family's nurture. Who did this, this marvelous work of creation? This beauty that surrounds us, whether through a microscope, or through a telescope, or by the unaided eye -- this beauty cries out for its Author to be acknowledged. The missing element of the science of our origins is the rich, personal contact found in family life. "Mom, tell me the story of how you and Dad met." Stories put the fact into a framework that has meaning. Apart from this framework, facts are devoid of meaning. Scientists tell the dry story of what they read in the facts they find. But how are they at inferring the story?
The amateur abruptly shifts his focus.
So whether you believe in God, or don't, comes down to a matter of a choice. The facts are open to interpretation. Every scientist knows there is more than one theory supported by the facts. You choose the theory you believe in. I deliberately choose to believe that an omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent God has caused the physical world to exist for His purposes. Further, I believe part of His purpose involves a personal relationship with me, and with every other member of the human species. And how did I come to this conclusion? Much like inheriting a rich family legacy, I had personal contact with someone who told me a story. This believer passed on the meaning behind the facts. I made the choice to believe. If you're trolling the Internet looking for the meaning of life, give it up. What I mean by that is, you will most likely be frustrated trying to reason out the story apart from a relationship, just reading the words on a web page -- it's just like family heritage! It takes personal contact to fill in the meaning! Find a warmblooded human being to share a living story with you. I am willing to be that contact -- let me know how I can help.
If you have read any of my previous posts (they're posted in reverse chronological order, so that the topmost journal entry is the most recent post), you will gather I am a person of faith. Faith must have an object, and the object of my faith is an invisible Person, Whom I've never actually seen. And here, in the modern era, most would point out the problem they perceive: how can you believe in something/Someone you've never seen? Let me turn the question around. What or whom do you believe in? How did you arrive at your beliefs?
The amateur philosopher pauses for breath, and dramatic effect.
The one sentient species I'm aware of, man, starts off pretty helpless. Usually mom and dad provide for the young one's needs: food, shelter, education. At some point, the tender young thing begins to make decisions for himself. Along the way, he picks up values and principles from role models in his life. Some personality quirks are ingrained (nature), some are caught (nurture). The lucky ones have a rich family heritage, one where mom or dad will tell funny stories about grandma or grandpa, or great-great-so-and-so. These stories take on epic characteristics, where the subject seems larger than life. But we listen with enjoyment, understanding that the main part of the story is based on something that actually happened.
Imagine that chain of family heritage is broken, as with ancient civilizations that have dried up and passed away. Who's left to tell the stories? Broken pottery, dilapidated stone structures, ashes from campfires long cold -- sounds like archaeology. The archaeologist combines an artist's rendition of the story of a forgotten people with the polkadotted facts he is able to gather from his digging. Not quite as rich as mom or dad passing down the traditions directly, but hopefully some of the story rings true.
So were you there when your mother and father had the romantic interlude that resulted in your conception? No? But you're pretty sure it happened, right? I wasn't there when the Big Bang happened, but thousands of scientists the world over have scraped over the evidence and put together the highlights of a story that strike pretty close to how things played out, so we guess. But the scientists' story can never convey the rich family heritage by merely poring over the facts. Just as a child grows strong and confident by the personal contact from a loving mother and father, lovingly passing on family values and rich heritage -- conversely, so too does a child wither and grow into less than a full person in the void of a loving family's nurture. Who did this, this marvelous work of creation? This beauty that surrounds us, whether through a microscope, or through a telescope, or by the unaided eye -- this beauty cries out for its Author to be acknowledged. The missing element of the science of our origins is the rich, personal contact found in family life. "Mom, tell me the story of how you and Dad met." Stories put the fact into a framework that has meaning. Apart from this framework, facts are devoid of meaning. Scientists tell the dry story of what they read in the facts they find. But how are they at inferring the story?
The amateur abruptly shifts his focus.
So whether you believe in God, or don't, comes down to a matter of a choice. The facts are open to interpretation. Every scientist knows there is more than one theory supported by the facts. You choose the theory you believe in. I deliberately choose to believe that an omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent God has caused the physical world to exist for His purposes. Further, I believe part of His purpose involves a personal relationship with me, and with every other member of the human species. And how did I come to this conclusion? Much like inheriting a rich family legacy, I had personal contact with someone who told me a story. This believer passed on the meaning behind the facts. I made the choice to believe. If you're trolling the Internet looking for the meaning of life, give it up. What I mean by that is, you will most likely be frustrated trying to reason out the story apart from a relationship, just reading the words on a web page -- it's just like family heritage! It takes personal contact to fill in the meaning! Find a warmblooded human being to share a living story with you. I am willing to be that contact -- let me know how I can help.