Of Reality, Life and Death (Part II)

So, continuing on...

Using the intellectual parameters my ethics professor set for us all those years ago, imagine we can know for certain there is no God.  There is no heaven or hell.  A lifetime of self-sacrifice will never be rewarded, nor will a lifetime of self-service be punished. 

This model was deeply troubling to me at first, and it still is to some degree.  Imagine a grieving loved one who's only solace is the knowledge that someday they will be reunited with those they have lost.  Or a woman who has watched her rapist go free, and can only console herself with the thought that though there may be no justice in this world, there will be justice in the next.  In our intellectual experiment, both of these people may be left without any hope.  And one may further pose the question, without a God, what is there it keep human kind honest, so to speak?  Would people be more selfish, more self serving, without the rewards and punishments a belief in a higher power can offer?

I guess I never really contemplated the question on the level of all humanity.  I've always felt that I can't really control how other people behave, so I'd best examine and change myself if I can.  Hence I feel I came to an answer more about how my morality would be affected without a belief in a higher power, as opposed to how it would affect society at large.

By the time I was posed this question, I had firmly decided on Catholicism as my faith of choice.  It was a large part of my life and world view:  I went to mass on Sundays, was an alter server, partcipated in bible study groups and church service trips.  But when I came to a crisis, in my life and my faith, this question came back to me: what is a moral system, a life outlook, a world view without a God?  What purpose does life have if this is it?

I have since abandoned my belief in a higher power.   It seems funny to me now, but many of the Buddhist principles I learned from my father carry a special meaning for me now.  Buddhists believe in the beauty of transience: a flower, a fine morning, a life, is made more beautiful by the fact that it is temporary.  And that question in the back of my mind makes my experiences even richer: I hold my son just a little tighter, kiss my husband just a little longer because maybe this is the only time I will ever have with them.  And if I were to imagine that this time and this time only is what we each are given, how can I justify selfishness?  Anger?  If I were to be unkind, I would be taking away something irreplaceable.

I wouldn't say I believe in nothing.   I just, in the words of Clarence Darrow, "do not pretend to know where many ignorant men are sure".  But that uncertainty is always what pushes me to live the best life I can.  Because maybe, just maybe, this is all I get.