All I could think was: why? I thought they were His chosen people. Call it Synchronicity. Call it fate. Call it pure chance. Call it what you will. But a week later I found myself perusing some used books and Spinoza's Theologico-Political Treatise literally fell off the shelf, and I thought: why not? I picked it up off the floor and bought the book, and started to read it, and what do you know? Spinoza talks about this very subject! But Spinoza's reasoning isn't exactly the great mystical answer I was looking for, even though his reasoning is by far very convincing. Essentially Spinoza says that God never favored the Jews more than he favored any other nation, but for a temporary length of time he helped them out and gave them direct guidance. With other nations God would just send an angel to assist (as implied in Exodus 33:2-4), rather than His own awesomeness. Spinoza, admittedly, has very sound reasoning concerning God, His relationship to the Jewish people, His covenant with them, and His ultimate departure. But I found Spinoza's answer to not be the grand, awesome answer I was hoping for.
In a way, I suppose this is the way it is for many things... that is that the truth (or at least the best answer) sometimes, if not oftentimes, really sucks. I can recall a few relationships in the past where the girl asked why do I love her? My answer: I don't; I just do. One girlfriend demanded of me a logical and rational answer as to why I liked her. Really? "Logical" and "rational" explanation for affection? It's like asking why 2+2=4? Because it equals 4. Sure Bertrand Russell spend three hundred pages trying to prove 1+1=2, but even Godel turned that one on its head. In reality, affection is sort of silly for how much we hype it up to be something awesome. Relationships are little more than an exchange of goods and services based on incentives. We maintain friendships because this particular friend makes us laugh, or this friend never asks for gas money and always wants to hang out, and this friend is essentially a convenient scapegoat, and this one is my own personal therapist, this one lets me borrow his movies, et cetera. That being little more than what friendship really is, friendship doesn't sound so awesome anymore. What's more is that intimate relationships are little more than friendships with sex. And what about love? It's little more than a chemical and hormonal reaction that creates a bond between two sexual partners to increase the likelihood of the survival of each other, their offspring, and hopefully their species (I would say homosexual love is little more than the same as heterosexual, except for the offspring part). Love doesn't sound so grand and mystical anymore, now does it?
Pets are little more than animals with Stockholm Syndrome. Prayer is talking to yourself. Meditation is trying to not think. Yoga is holding bodily positions to get high. Life is an accident. And you are an insignificant speck of carbon and water on a tiny little planet orbiting around a small, insignificant, yellow star that's swirling around a collapsed star that destroys other stars, all floating amongst many other stars and galaxies in an endlessly expanding universe that has no divine or grand purpose for existing. Everything is meaningless. Even you are meaningless.
I know, I know, I sound like a warm ray of sunshine right now. But the truth is this: the truth sucks. Oftentimes the truth doesn't seem to hold any meaning at all. Objective reality is kind of lame. We can find some wonder and amazement in it, but it still seems to fall short. I mean a circle is so simple and elegant, but pi is irrational and chaotic. Sure, it's cool that you can find your telephone number somewhere in pi, or your zip code, or your mother's birthday, and probably the super-secret nuclear access codes somewhere in that infinitely long and irrational number. But why is the circle simple but pi is not? Because that's the way it is. Circles are simple and pi is irrational. Order and chaos (whatever that's suppose to mean). There is no natural meaning to it.
I'm reminded of the talk given by Julia Sweeney, Letting Go of God, in which she gives her confessions and stories of growing up Catholic, wanting to be a nun, losing faith, trying to hold on to God, trying other religions, and ultimately renouncing her belief in God. Her story is emotional (both joyous and sad) and hilarious. But in particular what I found compelling about her talk is her conclusion and closing remarks. One remark that I enjoyed was how she wished that she could build a temple to her experiences and transitions in life, like others had done with temples to their gods. There was one remark that has long resonated with me more than anything:
"Let's face it, the truth is poor competitor in the marketplace of ideas."
Damn right. Even though Julia Sweeney no longer believes in God or the stories of the Bible, she comes to accept them later in life. Before she lost her faith she found the stories to be appalling (which they are) and disturbing, and many times completely unbelievable. After losing her faith she found a sort of peace and ultimately recognized that there was a comfort some people find in fantasy, because many times objective reality is a hard thing to swallow. That's because it is.
The truth is out there, but you're probably not going to like it. I'm starting to suspect that this is Mulder's problem.
