Implications of the fact God is not dead

By Jim Darlington

It seems we’ve arrived at a cultural cusp of sorts. At the same time the Fourth of July brings a sky full of fireworks, the lies that have dominated the national conversation are exploding all around us. Both are sights and sounds to warm the heart. But will America thank God?

As a fog of godlessness covers the landscape and grows deeper and darker, the inhabitants traveling through it find it increasingly difficult to keep to the road. They begin to wander off into dangerous and uncharted territories. This strange fog seems to have substance enough to create something of an echo chamber for the voices of denial.

“There is no God,” they keep repeating, like a drumbeat made to reverberate off every aspect of the culture. “We’ve all come here by chance,” say the mockers, who have found their comfort within the haze, “so we answer to nothing above us.” They ask us to imagine that we are all our own gods, and, as such, we can create our own realities and personal truths. If incomprehension was among the possible divine attributes, these creations of their own imaginations would be the only beings in the universe that God could simply not understand.

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But man was made to stand in awe of God and to desire his presence and communion. Nothing else has marked, more profoundly, every shred of civilization that has preceded us. It may be hard to conceive, so compressed as we are by the density of this enveloping miasma, but from the dawn of mankind, we have required meaning. Acknowledging the incomprehensibility of nature, of the heavens and of ourselves, we have bowed before that which is infinitely greater, asking for mercy and strength. Men were not always blinded by the presumptions of a “Science” that promises, someday, to reveal the knowledge of all, by divining the last mechanical “how” of this physical realm. That manner of science, which presumes to supplant a need for divine explanation, insists on an absurd faith in chance, instead of recognizing its limitations. And it has little talent for asking the greater question, “Why?”

Don’t deny God. Whoever is near you and denies God, don’t let them. It is the death of the soul.

If there is no God, indeed, what do you need a soul for? If death is an all-encompassing end, soundless and dark, without thought or feeling, why would we guard a soul we believed never was? Why avoid what might damage it? Why would we watch for its manifestations? Why take care of its needs? Why would we care for the souls of others, or wonder how the soul of one connects to that of a friend or lover? Why dream that we were created, on purpose, in love, by a heavenly Father who would make us all yearn for the world beyond us, near to Him? Why did He put that empty place we so fear to approach within each breast? What is it we are longing for? Why do we have eyes that can look into the starry skies of a calm and quiet night and see eternity? And why would an eternal God create merely momentary and soulless beings, who would look to Him askance and then be gone forever?

And why would any cognizant person wish to gain, as a certainty, the belief that birth and death are the fixed parentheses of existence? Because you cannot see the soul or touch the spirit? Sprinkle some metal filings around a magnet and ask if there is such a thing as an invisible force. Watch a flock of 10,000 starlings rise and fall and turn, in near perfect unison. Try and count the infinitesimal atomic and molecular and cellular miracles that occur at conception. Think of the millions of brave little soldiers, each one swimming with his last micron of determination to be the one welcomed and permitted to enter the great globe of the egg, to bring their half of the genetic equation and achieve their own level of immortality. Try to imagine the spiraling signatures of life, that guide the endless reproduction of each of the billions of cells in any one body.

Cellular reproduction begins when a double helix of 46 paired chromosomes, each made up of the billions of parts that identify us, uniquely. They separate into two identical strands, which then reproduce themselves perfectly, each containing a perfect map or blueprint or mini-computer databank, not only describing, but able to direct the development of every future cell in your body. Then the cell divides and becomes two, ready to repeat, ad infinitum, throughout the cycle of physical life. And when you realize your mind simply can’t fathom the how of that, try to picture that moment when the egg of your mother and that sperm cell from your father met and were married. Those double helixes from each split, upon being so miraculously introduced, and rather than duplicating themselves, they sacrifice each a strand and the remaining two conjoin in an unimaginably perfect interfacing, to become the DNA of the first cell of you. The first of billions, duplicating and dividing, the DNA unchanging but directing a differentiating of the cells to structure the different parts of the anatomy.

But we all know this stuff. We were taught all about it in biology, one fine day. And were told it was a result of evolutionary chance mutations over eons of time, as better and more complex versions kept out-succeeding their predecessors. We were meant to accept the dead assumption that science alone was sufficient and that the hand of God was neither needed nor invited. We were asked to believe, in essence, the probability that a meteor could strike a mountain (given enough meteors and enough mountains over billions of years), and that finally a result would happen along one day, that, when the dust from the impact settled, a city might appear, fully realized, and not just any city, but an exact duplicate of New York City, and not just the structures but every single one of those grumpy New Yorkers, and each with their very special and strange psychologies intact. And, we were asked to believe, that such a likelihood was not vastly more likely than a lightning strike on muddy mineral waters, giving rise to the first self-duplicating cellular great-grand-daddy of all the life that henceforth accidentally evolved.

Imagine a society so realistically grounded that any person even hinting a doubt about the existence of a divine Creator would be sharply rebuked and told to sit down and start thinking. Where children, having been taught the foundational truth of the Creator, might have a sound basis for seeking the truth of the Savior.

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