Alexis Jacobi wrote: ↑Tue Jul 22, 2025 5:03 pm
Immanuel Can wrote: ↑Tue Jul 22, 2025 4:09 pm
So God has provided a way for you to get into relationship with Him, and paid the ultimate price to purchase it, and you want nothing to do with Him?
First, what is notable in this is that it is an absolute imperative : do or die.
It is (to put it lightly) strongly evident that the man who encounters this imperative is placed in extreme tension. A decision must be made. Everything hangs in the balance. It places the man in a desperate condition: one false move (existentially) and all is lost.
Psychologically, the pressure is pretty intense.
Now in contrast what of the modern man who faces no imperative at all? He can carry on existence, relatively pain-free (in our culture and civilization anyway) for the duration of his life. Nothing impels him. Except, overall, his desire to avoid pain and distress and to feel pleasure.
But this man — Immanuel’s man — who “gets in relationship” with God, is not a man who is admonished to build in this world, but rather to eventually be translated to a world beyond this one.
It is quite possible however for someone
to shift the imperative focus. Or to conceive of the religious imperative as necessitating a different overall response.
So,
imperative is what can be examined.
You’re right about one thing: and Marx understood it. We all face a double choice.
One way to live is to regard this world as ultimate. But this is followed by several other hard realizations. One is that you’re a temporal creature, very small, very moribund, very weak, limited by time and space, having few resources…and yet big aspirations, longings and needs. This produces despair; and this despair produces either fatalism or delusion. One resigns oneself to death, and gives up, or one begins to take on delusions of grandeur and power, and to think that though this world is all there is, yet magically, by pure belief, man can transform himself into the master of his own fate. This, he hopes to do through collectivism: for if he is small, weak, limited and on his way to death, perhaps by combining with other ants in the anthill, perhaps he will achieve collectively the dynamic that will make him conqueror, achiever of a mighty anthill that shall tower above the grass…and thus, though he is, himself, individually fated, by association with others who may yet triumph, he will achieve the closest thing to immortality, to significance, that a dying ant can achieve.
This was Marx’s way.
There’s another way. That is to recognize that this world is temporal, limited, confined to time and space, and perishing. And though we individuals are perishing even faster, we are not ants. This world was created for a purpose, as the temporary stage on which the drama of man’s relationship with his Creator was to be played out. Man, who has so much against him in the world, has this: will. He has choice. He is not fated, because that choice is not about what anthills to build before death, but rather about the grander stage that is to come: eternity. Important decisions of life, death and meaning are being played out on this temporal stage. But we are not trapped, doomed or fated; and we do not yield our identities to the collective — indeed, we are lost if we do — but rather we face the question of our eternal destiny squarely — not as doomed ants, but as spiritual creatures designed for fellowship with God in eternity.
Marx hated this way.
It messed up his way. And so he unequivocally condemned it. "The critique of religion," he said, "is the first of all critiques.” And again, “religion is the opium of the masses.” If men know of eternity, they will immolate their individuality, become ants, and join the ant project. So God must go, and go first. And with Him will go all morality, because the collective is going to dictate what is right and wrong, not God. There will be no objective rights and wrongs, and not even any objective truth. “Science” will come to mean nothing more than “conformity to Marxist dogma,” as will art, culture and education, which all must serve no purpose but the propaganda of the anthill. With God gone, there will be no other project for anybody to join, save the anthill project, and to join on its imaginary terms, in outright defiance of things like facts, logic, the word and truth.
But, we might ask, is that not doomed? If we join the anthill, give up our identities to the collective, surrender our judgments to its terms, and then die, what have we gained? The answer comes back: you have gained the opportunity to preen. And we, your ant-overlords, have gained your obedience, your resources, and your utilization for whatever projects we, your rulers, conceive. You will die, yes; but not until your whole importance has been consumed by our Great Project. You may live on in what we hope to achieve, though “live on” does not mean anything specific. We will forget you almost immediately, if we have not already forgotten you the very moment you joined our collective. But never mind; these are only terms you’ll get. Remember, “God is dead.” You’re ours now.
How could anybody refuse such a deal?