A classmate of mine made the comment that he couldn’t believe some people actually think that there is a God “up there” who is meticulously planning the end of our puny, insignificant planet which happened to sprout up on the edge of the universe.
This claim – that there is a personal Being who is intimately involved in the fates of mankind and his inhabitance – is indeed incredulous. Unbelievable. Mind-boggling.
But does the incredulousness of this idea prove that it cannot be true? Of course not. It would be parallel to claiming that a butterfly can certainly not come from a grub, for a grub is so base and a butterfly so ethereal – how could one derive its existence from the other?
In fact, unless someone had taken the time to observe a caterpillar weaving its house of transformation, taking notes and pictures, practicing patience for the many weeks, until finally the coffin breaks open to reveal the transformed treasure, he would have never have hypothesized such a theory on his own.
In the same way if, through careful study and scrutiny, it is determined that a Personal Being, who very much cares for and sovereignly influences the fate of the human race, did in fact exist, this conclusion would have to be accepted – despite any emotional response such a conclusion may generate.
Not only that, but just as the concept of “metamorphosis” had to be drawn out of the discovery of the origins of the butterfly, the implications of the existence of such a Higher Power demand consideration.
This post is not about those implications, nor even about the evidences pointing to a Personal, Sovereign, Omniscient, Omnipotent Higher Power. Rather, it is simply an observation that incredulousness is no substitution for Truth. I am amazed and humbled every day that I am reminded that a Perfect God thought it worth His while to reach down and pluck me out of the miry slog of my own degenerate making.
And that is what makes it so beautiful. The Undeserved being rescued by the All-Deserving. The Imprisoned being set free by the Creditor. The Whore being pursued by the Groom.
So, dear reader, I invite you – nay, I challenge you – to approach the metaphorical laboratory of your human reason, to lean over and peer into the body of evidence, and to watch the closed chrysalis of your assumptions slowly break down as the radiantly rich Truth of your Maker and mine is revealed.