I have always wondered at the impossibilty of atheism. To deny God, is to deny dogma itself. It is to be fool enough to consider that rational thought is sufficient to make sense of the universe.
A moment’s reflection suffices to reveal that this assertion is patently absurd. Without a dogmatic framework upon which to operate, no observations can have any meaning – even to trust in the reality of one’s own eyes or ears depends on an axiom. Likewise, in a world of infinite observations, no scientific method can prevent the formulation of a biased hypothesis. Infinite hypotheses would, in such a Godless world, result in an infinite scatterplot of results, but would bring us no closer to understanding truth.
Of course, even the most ardent self-proclaimed atheists are nothing of the sort. They do cling to dogma, and therefore have a conception of God. What it lacks is a codification – and therein lies the ultimate danger.
For despite the preaching of that famous evangelist Marx, religion is not the opiate of the masses. Rather, it is the conductor, who attempts to turn cacophany into harmony.
In 2020, we have seen what happens when the conductor is bludgeoned and left a cripple. Like Nietzsche’s madman who lit the lantern in broad daylight, we err through the streets, chanting Black Lives Matter, habited in our face masks, fearing COVID and self-flagellating our soft, white backs. Searching for God without even realising that is our purpose.
It is not without great symbolic significance that the churches, almost to a one, closed their doors, denying spiritual comfort, out of fear for their earthly flesh. Christ must surely weep for us, for His religion is dead to us.
And after finally gaining admittance, the madman asks: “What after all are these churches now, if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?”