Garland Greene, Steve Buscemi’s psychotic character from Con Air, engages Cameron–put the bunny back in the box–Poe (Nicholas Cage) in some entertaining philosophic dialogue that I think is worth some consideration:
What if I told you insane was working fifty hours a week in some office for fifty years at the end of which they tell you to piss off; ending up in some retirement village hoping to die before suffering the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet on time? Wouldn’t you consider that to be insane?
Taken at face value, it’s great advice from a crazy man. Blind squirrels, after all, find acorns every now and then. It’s also representative of a notion frequently set forth by our new atheist counterparts. Frankly, it’s a corner piece of their argumentation, and one Christians have always preached: live this life in earnest.
The foundational aspects of our agreement with respect to living this life to the fullest are divergent, however. The new atheist urges us to live this life to the fullest because it’s the only one we have, or at least the only one we know of. Certainly, the sense of urgency is obvious. Or is it? It’s not at all clear to me that lotus-eating is not as reasonable a conclusion, drawn from a pool of several competing possibilities. Another option weighs heavily in the words of the pearl of the English language:
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth A5, S5
If this life is the only one we have, then the force of these words is inescapable. I have great respect for the new atheists’ exhortation to be diligent in living this life. Moreover, I’ve been consistent in acknowledging that, on average, atheists in fact lead lives on a moral par with Christians. In this regard, I wish more Christians emphasized more often the importance of this life. However, if this is it, if we will be heard no more after our hour upon the stage, what difference can it really make what we say and do while on stage? Though I impregnate meaningless with a temporal or existential meaning, I am still but an idiot, and my tale is full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. And if Christ be not raised, we are to be pitied above all men.
Garland had a point, if we restrict his assertion. Don’t give your life over to convention. Live it to its fullest. But considered in a world without ultimate meaning, Garland’s unrestricted assertion is horrifying: There’s no substantial, non self-illusory difference between my life and yours. You worked your whole life, were dependable, disciplined, raised a good family, paid your taxes, were a good citizen, and helped little old ladies across the street. I, on the other hand, drove through three states wearing a little girl’s severed head as a hat. Guess what? We amount to the same thing, ultimately. Out! Out! Brief Candle…
A naturalist reality lacks the ability to ultimately distinguish between those who would molest little girls, and those who live decent lives, whether it’s fifty years in a cubicle or not. Live life to the fullest. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Grin and bear it. Rail against the uncaring and insouciant heavens of matter and energy. In time, your cries will fade into nothingness along with all the earth’s TV and radio transmissions and all its Voyagers, in some unknown, deathly cold, and dark reach of space. After your hour upon the stage, your cries are heard no more. The world’s thanatopsis is deafening in its silence, and repugnant in its equality.
For the Christian, the ultimate, ghastly equation of serial killers and normal folk does not obtain, for there is a heavenly father who knows how to distinguish between the two, has the power to do so without interference, the holiness to do so righteously, and the omnipresence whereby no dark, remote corner of the universe remains untouched. Without doubt, Job cried out in the midst of his distress: I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh will I see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes–I and not another. How my heart yearns within me!
Christian: live every minute now to the fullest. We, of all people should, for we believe our actions have eternal consequences and meaning. How our hearts yearn within us, both for now, and for evermore.
The Dark Man is now available from Marcher Lord Press. Click on the Marcher Lord Press link to the right to order. Charles Graves, Julia Jenkins, the Reverend Cleveland, Frank Cotton Graves, and (boo, hiss) Richard Fah-reese are all waiting for you. Oh yeah, the dark man is waiting for you to act as well, and he doesn’t like delays.
