I was raised in a fundamentalist home that both mocked the Enlightenment for replacing transcendent truth with reason and yet embraced logical explanations for religious beliefs. From an early age I was taught to question everything from abortion to evolution to why we are forced to wear seat belts by asking a series of questions that requires an opponent to define their terms, name their sources, and get to the root of their moral framework.
Assuming everyone else is consciously operating from a thought-out worldview, this works great. But in this post modern times, nobody gives a fuck why they do anything. I envy those who just don't give a damn since I'm left questioning Christianity without having anything to replace it with.
Believing that truth exists whether or not you choose to believe brings so much comfort to me because then truth isn't dependent on me. In that scenario, truth exists. It just is. Instead, I feel so uncomfortable under the weight of the decision: what do I believe? What if I choose the wrong truth like some fucked up Mormon or Al Qaeda freak?
Often I feel like Pontius Pilate standing before an innocent man who's about to be sentenced to death asking, "What is truth?"
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