Who does it really help?


We were all born with brains.

I think that’s the real anomaly of a spiritually based life. As a Christian I believe in God and that He created us and all of the world and yet I cannot deny the fact that I have brain. That I can think for myself, react for myself, and question God, His glory, intentions, and existence as much as I so please. It’s odd to think that something He provided us all with and encourages us to strengthen could be the ultimate source of our race’s distrust and lack of faith in Him. That it is the intelligence that He blessed us with that promotes all these conflicting spiritual values.

But it is.

And the more I realize this the more confused I become. If I were an all powerful omniscient being who wanted to be loved and respected by my people, I would give them no other choice. It would never cross their minds to question my love for them and never in a trillion years would they doubt my existence. But then I suppose there is a type of shallowness associated with a forced love. A sort of emptiness that’s always with you, constantly whispering in your ear, don’t be fooled… it’s not real… I would imagine there’s a guilt that haunts you too. The kind that haunted Merope Gaunt while pregnant with Tom Riddle’s loveless child. And where’s the satisfaction in that?

I suppose I understand that.

I brought this up to a religious friend of mine once. “How blessed we are then,” she replied. “How blessed we are to be able to praise Him given the fact that we have such a huge chance of failure!” a part of me found this to be ridiculously optimistic and comical. “Hahahaha that’s why I love you,” I replied, but nevertheless there was a significant amount that spoke to me. A great part of me admired that response. So what? it said. The point is to love Him not find fault in everything. What does it really matter? And who does it really help? In that way she was right to completely disregard my reasoning. Who does it really help?

On a different occasion I asked another friend why it was necessary to do stupid, potentially harmful things just for “fun”. What was the real point? Who are we helping? “Faithe, what is the real point in anything? Exactly. There is no point. Just be happy.” Well, that was simple, I thought. Forget about always trying to “help your fellow man”. Just relax and be happy. What a ridiculously difficult thing to do when you’re as uptight and analytical as I am. When you question everything.

However, I think they were both right. God may have given us all brains, but that doesn’t mean they need disrupt our whole lives. I don’t need to question everything, even if everything is questionable. I have free will. The ability to do or think anything I please. Another thing God blessed us all with. I think that’s the real point. That I should focus on that and let my heart relax. Which is why we were given brains and encouraged to use them. So that our love could be clearer. So we could believe in the impossible and give ourselves away to it. So that I could relax and find solace in the fact that I cannot and will never be able to understand everything. So why should I be conflicted by it?

Who does it help anyway?


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