I don’t know how one can view a sunrise over a natural world and not believe in a Higher Power. Maybe we don’t call It God (though I do), but Something exists to give order to all that cannot be explained without faith.
If we are to believe our present scientific theorem—that the natural condition of the universe is to proceed ever more into a greater state of chaos, what holds it all together? What keeps this cycle that permits life, in all its infinite forms, in existence? If ever racing to a greater state of chaos, how does Man pattern the heavens upon an eternal cycle: predict comets, eclipses, alignment of bodies within our galaxy, all with proven precision?
Such is not Chaos. It is Design.
If the universe races ever more into greater chaos, how did the wonder of our own form ever become real? How, seeking disorder, were our bodies so miraculously composed: organs, systems, senses, souls?
I don’t understand how, in a world of such wonder to which we all witness every day, we might so easily dismiss the Miraculous to chance. If we dismiss the Miraculous to chance, and hold to the premise of entropy, does that not display our own ability to affect the universe through personal perspective? In believing the law of entropy: disorder becomes our the standard of the universe because we deny to see Design, and yet we use the very Design we deny in order to derive the principles by which we live our lives. In believing something to be, it becomes. In finding ways to prove a law of disorder on a small scale, we choose blindness to the Higher order that holds it all together, the order upon which existence, life—wonder—hold.
In a present day, with so much wonder and mysteries worth of amazement daily before us, we seek science for answers rather than finding solace in admission to the limits of our own eternal awareness and simply hold faith for what is beyond human understanding. We fear a strand of code that, like fear, cannot replicate without a host. We fear it because it has been discovered. Our perceptions make it a threat to whatever level our own fears raise it to be. We freeze the living world because science has no answer to a problem science discovered. We wait, alone and isolated, to project upon ourselves a sense of perceived personal safety. What do we really achieve in doing nothing? Are we really helping others in living a life of deliberate disengagement? What all suffers in the world while we wait on science for an answer?
Can there another answer? Can there be a course of action—outside the do-nothing advice of experts whose alarums are echoed by interested social leaders (or vice versa)—to ameliorate our portended present despair?
I believe there is. The answer is FAITH.
Of the threats that belie our present, and all conditions of despair, Soren Kierkegaard writes, “the believer possesses the eternally certain antidote to despair…possibility, for with God all things are possible every instant.”
We can choose fear, or we can choose faith, and when we determine on one, the influence of the other on perceptions and action are reduced in favor of that on which we have decided. This is why some today hold fast in place, why others live more free, and why the virus’ metrics—indifferent to either course—have held to a steady path far below pandemic portensions.
Is it foolish to decide to live in faith when science projects such a dire threat? In respect to science, we must first ask if expert predictions were shown true. If not, does not the scientific method require re-addressment of the beginning theorem? True science does not continue in purporting what is already disproven.
Whether it is foolish to decide to live a life in faith, each of us must make our own decision. To understand a risk, and decide to continue on a course in spite of potential risks is an act of faith, a belief in possibility that all may still be well. We do this every day: eating salads when e coli pandemics are reported on the news, when we drive aware of the risks that come in accidents, entrusting our lives to elective or necessary surgeries that—should something go wrong—we will likely perish. Why should we live absent faith towards what we are told, today, to fear when we live so many other like-acts of faith every day?
Kierkegaard writes more:
“…the believer perceives, and understands…his destruction (in what has befallen him and in what he has ventured), but he believes…He leaves it wholly to God how he is to be helped, but he believes that for God all things are possible.”
To choose a normal life, a security in our day-to-day, in this present, is an act of faith. It requires overriding projected and propagated fears and believing in safety and security outside scientific solution—even if the answer is nothing more than deciding not to be afraid of the fear we, ourselves, made real within our minds and thereby world.
“Then God helps him—perhaps by letting him escape the terror, perhaps by means of the terror—in the fact that here, unexpectedly, miraculously, divinely, help appears…Whether a man has been helped by a miracle depends essentially upon the degree of intellectual passion he has employed to understand that help was impossible, and next upon how honest he is toward the Power that helped him nevertheless.”
If by choosing to return, by Faith, to a life of normalcy, and the threat we are told to fear and exists without answer, proves to have little more effect than it does today—is this not a miracle? If the solution is as simple as changed perception and deciding to live again in accordance to faith and free will, does God not bless us with our answer—even when the answer is eternally present, though denied in certain times?
