Bridges to the Promised Land

Let's expand a metaphor I introduced in the last post. Imagine, if you will, you are walking in the midst of a vast crowd of people across a flat open plain. Although different people are moving at different paces, nonetheless everyone is traveling in the same direction, drawn inexorably toward a destination no one seems to recall.

A break in the sea of humanity ahead reveals a huge gash that has been cut in the earth, a yawning chasm waiting to swallow up everyone heading toward it. It is right in your path. Most disturbing, you realize that the powerful external forces compelling you and everyone else will not allow you to turn around or stop in your tracks--you must either plunge headlong into the chasm or find some way to cross safely to the distant rim on the far side.

You turn to some of those around you to mention this startling discovery. Most hardly seem to take notice, caught up in conversations of their own or simply too self-absorbed to care what you have to say.

The precipice draws closer. You notice there are a number of bridges crossing the chasm. They are various sizes, made of various materials with different qualities of workmanship. People ahead are squeezing onto the bridges, attempting to cross safely to the far side. An old woman is tiptoeing her way alone across a thin plank supported by spindly trestles stretching down into the misty depths of the chasm. She doesn't look like she'll maintain her balance for long. A large group of people has moved onto a concrete arch spanning the gap. You notice cracks in the support columns, and even some debris spalling off the aging supports as they strain under the weight of the arch's occupants. Some people simply meander right over the cliff without even trying to find a way across.

Finally, it seems an older man on your left and a young woman on your right have taken notice of the danger. You take the opportunity to solicit their advice. "Which bridge should we take?"

"None," the old man snaps. "They don't lead anywhere. The far side, it's just an illusion, a mirage. This is the edge of the world. There is nothing more."

The young woman seems more hesitant. "I'm not sure. Some look safer than others, but how do I know which is the best one? Besides, what if the man is right and the far side is an illusion? How can I know if it's real or not?"

You look ahead again and pick out a narrow brick walkway that appears to be in good repair. You angle towards it and look toward your traveling companions to see if they will follow.

"Don't waste your time," the old man advises as you pull away.

The young woman shrugs her shoulders, confused. "I just can't make up my mind."

You take your first steps onto the brick walk as you hear the old man begin to shout to everyone around him, "We're all going down no matter what! Your bridges are worthless! Don't worry about changing your direction to get on a bridge, it's easier to just head straight over the edge!" His voice trails off as he plunges into the mist.

With one last glance, you look back over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of the young woman, a strange mixture of confusion and apathy on her face as she takes a step out into thin air and plummets into oblivion.

This story is familiar, for it's the story we all face. Death is the chasm ahead that awaits all of us, spreading it's gaping jaws wide to swallow us up. The bridges are of course the religions of man, metaphysical constructs that attempt to make sense of our world and promise safe passage to the far side, the blessed afterlife, whatever form that might take.

The old man is the atheist. Religions are a waste of time, perhaps even harmful since they cause people to redirect their steps and jostle the crowd around. We are all going to plunge into nothingness eventually and everything is, ultimately, meaningless.

The young woman is the classic agnostic. Perhaps some of the bridges are good, and perhaps the far side is a real place. Perhaps not. Who can be sure? It's all quite complicated, and there's not enough certainty to be able to make a firm decision.

And you? Who will you be? Atheist, nihilist, who decides there is nothing more than what we see here and now? Whatever small meaning you might make out of this life will be swallowed up by the sheer numbness of eternal non-existence?

Or will you be the agnostic, lacking the courage or conviction to make a firm decision? Just allow the end to come without even trying to make an attempt to cross to the far side?

Maybe you'll be neither of those. Maybe you do want to find a bridge of your own. Which one? Do they all lead safely to the Promised Land? Are they all just clever manmade constructs, but ultimately won't hold up under weight? Maybe one or more do have divine origin?

If you care enough to examine them, and you're bold enough to be willing to place your faith, then let's start dissecting them. Let's see if we can find a bridge to the Promised Land.