A New Earth, A False Hope (an excerpt)

In the last several months I have learned the truth about climate change, the truth that I had previously joined my fellow Christians in mocking.  I have had all manner of human-inflicted evils brought to my attention (religion is on the list).  The seriousness of our situation is painful.  It is intense.  It is discouraging.  It is frustrating, infuriating, bleak and hopeless.  Scientists are now saying that there is no likelihood of our civilization recovering from the last few decades of damage, even if we were all to cease the destructive activities tomorrow.  The Earth is heating up, thanks to us.  (The current cool spell is indicative of our screwed-up weather patterns due to overall heating.)  We are baking ourselves and our fellow creatures for the sake of a few comforts and conveniences.  Creature comforts, indeed.  The science reports fly in daily from every quarter.  The Earth will likely swing back around eventually (thousands or millions of years?), but how many of its current species will be around to see it?  

No, it’s not pretty.  No, there’s not much hope.  Maybe it makes more sense at this point to just let everyone have their false hope and to go about preaching God’s new Earth, but as for me and my house, we’d rather know the truth.  I hear it sets you free.  Maybe, just maybe, if we face the problem head-on instead of burying our heads in the sand we will discover that there is something we can do...

...But I cannot believe in God.  Most definitely not the god of the Bible.  I have seen the wizard behind the curtain.  I now truly believe that I am an ape descendent.  I don’t understand it all just yet, but I am learning. The facts point to evolution.  If this is the case then we have no dominion and our focus should be on being more responsible creatures.  We have the ability to reason and think abstractly and the responsibility to do so not only for our own benefit, but for that of the less intelligent species.  I really do have no more “right” to be here than the snapping turtle in the creek over there, or the cardinal singing in the tree next to me.  It would be one thing if we lived as they did, but we don’t.  We began “improving” upon the Earth for our own convenience and comfort and couldn’t stop.  Our priorities got mixed up.  We forgot where we came from.  And we have done this thing, this horrible thing to our planet.  So yeah, sometimes I look at wildlife now and whisper, “I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.”  No, they don’t know.  They remain unaware of their fates.  And it makes it that much harder for me to swallow.

So, how should we then live?  Well, I’m a stubborn sort and refuse to give up hope.  I will continue to learn what I can about this universe and hope that mankind will continue to evolve, that we will find a way to undo the damage we have done.  I will take whatever steps I can to help and I will teach my children to do so, as well.  We will drive less, consume less, conserve more, recycle, live simply and continue learning and teaching and sharing.  I will teach my children to be aware of the fact that we share this planet with 7 billion other people and an estimated 8.7 million other species, that everything we do has a worldwide impact and that it is shameful to bury your head in the sand, be the sand some form of religion, sports, politics or whatever.  

But that is not all, oh no, that is not all.  I do not wish to shame my children and cause them to be fearful and discouraged.  My hope is to balance sobering reality with love and appreciation.  Not to counter the reality, as in Jukka’s case, but as an integral part of reality.  I am finding this balance in my own life.  I observe the universe around me and begin to understand my place in it.  I love beyond bounds and seek to express my appreciation for life by pouring myself back into it.  Yes, sometimes I am sad and find myself apologizing to frogs, but mostly I rejoice in the vibrant world around me.  If I did not find joy in it, if I did not appreciate it, why would I bother taking time to care for it?  There must be balance.  We must be drawn forward by love and beauty, not driven from behind by fear or anger.  

Religious Comfort (an excerpt)

Religion is comforting. In our darkest hours we want nothing more than to know that there is more to life, that we are loved unconditionally, that there is a plan, that someone is working on our behalf and requires little of us. For me there was no choice, no making decisions based upon what I found comfortable; either the Bible was true or it wasn’t. I found it eventually to be self-defeating. I think I was only ever interested in things that made sense and I sought for years to find sense in the Bible, trusting it to be there (faith), trusting that as I immersed myself in it I would find all the pieces fitting together nicely. Well, I didn’t, of course. I found trust-destroying nonsense instead, which was at once a relief and a sadness to me (not sad that the Bible wasn’t true, but that I had wasted so much time on it).

I said all that to say that the only thing left is logic. Now, on the outside of religion, I see there is much more logic floating around than the Bible ever offered. (We'll talk another time about the damage religion has done through the ages.) If I found comfort in the Bible, in the idea of a benevolent God; what would be my comfort now?


I have examined my former “faith,” looking for clues as to exactly what I found comforting or reassuring about it. I was able to separate some of good things from the Bible and its God, some things needed only a little tweaking and some of it just had to be tossed entirely.

There appears to be no such thing as unconditional love outside of our imaginations, only conditional love (I love you based upon these conditions: how you make me feel, what you do, how you look, etc.) and considerate love (I have considered everything I know about you, good and bad, and I love you in spite of your shortcomings). There is no more or less to life than what we make of it. There is no plan, but there is logic, science, reason, things you can count upon. I find comfort in that. The earth will continue to turn and the sun continue to shine, the ocean waves to roar and the wind to whisper in the trees, all until they have physical reasons not to. One plus one will continue to equal two. Today’s mysteries are tomorrow’s knowledge. When I die the stuff I am made of will return to the earth. Eventually it will return to the cosmos from whence it came and maybe become part of a star or a meteor or another life form. I needn’t speculate; it’s perfectly irrelevant. Science tells us where we came from and roughly where we are going; I find I am fairly satisfied with this. My life will, from here on out, always be grounded in science and reason. I may lay on my back under the stars and philosophize, but I will never again put my trust in things that cannot be understood. There are so many dependable, understandable things to trust in, if only one would look.