Reason over Revelation
Lately, I’ve noticed an interesting trend at the fitness center I frequent: as the years tick by, an existential panic seems to be driving many of the older regulars into the welcoming arms of a trendy "Faith over Fear" version of Christianity. Meanwhile, my own enthusiasm regarding life after death has waned, much like my childhood fascination for Froot Loops that long ago lost any appeal to my more mature palate.
I refrain from openly scoffing at the comfort faith may provide to some; I appreciate the very human desire for safety and assurance in the face of the unknown. But while some people see the horizon of mortality approaching and find solace in the idea of something beyond the grave, I’ve found a peculiar kind of peace in simply accepting that one day I won’t exist. And strangely enough, that doesn’t bother me.
Understanding mortality from a naturalistic perspective means letting go of the idea that I need a cosmic encore to make my time here meaningful. The fact that life is finite doesn’t diminish its value; it enhances it. If I had all of eternity, would I cherish anything the same way I do now? Would I still marvel at the sky, laugh at my mistakes, or bother saying “I love you” today, instead of putting it off for some distant tomorrow?
For me, the beauty of life lies in its brevity. There is something profoundly liberating about realizing that this is it — this life, this moment, this string of coffee-stained mornings and dad-joke laughter and unexpected joys. When I consider the alternative — eternal existence — I wonder if infinity would make existence duller by the millennia instead of enhancing any thrill of being alive.
Of course, the big sleep is still a big unknown. Yet, I find it comforting to think that, when my time comes, the universe will continue just fine without me — just as it did before I got here. There’s no fear in that thought, just a quiet understanding that I am a brief, flickering part of something vast and wondrous.
So while some seek divine reassurance to assuage their fear of death, I’m embracing the mystery. I'm soaking up this fleeting magic of existence. While they display their kitchy "Faith over Fear" t-shirts, and recite Philippians 4:13 to all who will listen, my imagination quietly responds, "I'll take Reason over Revelation."
