Introduction
There was a point in time where I believed that knowledge leads to happiness; that knowledge of truths, the universe–distant galaxies, and stars would lead to an increase of happiness. That to know or perhaps, to be intelligent equates to a life filled with sunshine and rainbows. Yet how misleading, for knowledge brings not answers, nor does it lead to happiness–on the contrary, it leads to a near infinite number of questions (which themselves can never be fully answered) and a despairing–melancholy.
More Questions
There is the case of current times where many claim to know; knowledge that a certain religion is true and conversely false; knowledge that God exists and conversely those who claim to know he does not; knowledge of this, that and many. Yet when questioned further, when asked for proof–there comes to the realization that one indeed does not know. Socrates is well justified in exclaiming that, “I know one thing, that I know nothing.” Suppose the theist who claims God to be. However, upon further questioning and likewise, realization of how this world is brutish, adds to the argument that perhaps there is no God, or perhaps, if he exists, he sits back on his throne refusing to interfere in the affairs of man (a do-nothing God). The theist then sits at the edge of his bed, pondering on how such a thing be. When he ponders further, surely the existence against the existence of God seems sharply–convincing. Yet too, the arguments that he proposes for the existence of God as well seems sharp. Is there a God? Are his very own arguments enough to justify the hope he has that perhaps there is a being out there? That perhaps there is someone above who worries about his puny existence–who calls upon that man, and others aware of his existence, to “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).” Though he seems to believe that yet more questions–more knowledge, more awareness of perception of reality leads to even more doubts; doubts that God does exist and doubts that God does not exist. All he knows are questions to what he believes to be, NEVER answers to anything. So, what does he? Simply believe blindly? Sit back and accept one belief over the other, one the basis of a coin toss? Well that too would go against his being, and likewise a call to, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have (1 Peter 3:15).” And so, he feels stuck, that he could be wrong about everything–as how can he give an answer to ANYTHING, if there is complexity to all things in existence. Heck! He cannot even himself disprove that he is not a brain in a vat, or better yet that all he sees are mere figments of his imagination.
Hopeless Melancholy
Thence cometh that despairing–melancholy, what does he know? That life is unclear, that there is much ambiguity–that all he thinks to be in one case, could be false in another, that there is much nuance of life. Life is neither black nor white, it is foggy, misty; the same way one looks through a foggy glass and seeks to make sense of a figure that they see, is how life is. There seems no clear distinction, no inherent meaning to life–no true purpose. This one person believes this and another that. This person seems to be that and the other this. This community favors this person and ignores that one. Another isolates this and accepts that, one person isolates himself and another does not. All in all, the inconsistencies in life, the perplexing–complexity of human acts and their being. The unknowingness of persons, the unpredictability of individuals–all in all that there appears nothing concrete, no rope to hold onto. Not even the knowledge of God it seems. No wonder that he seems to be spiraling to and fro. Everything he presumes to know are dispelled when questions arise, no wonder his knowledge does not bring happiness–no surprise Socrates himself sought a foundation, something to grasp, to be stable and grounded, thence he states, AHAH! “I know one thing, that I know nothing.” Further he could exclaim, that is the very basis of my being, that which grounds me, that which sustains me amidst a list of unclear paths that I seem to be faced with.
Creation of a Path
However, there must be happiness in life–even contentment, satisfaction that one has made something of life. If one cannot find it amidst this brutish, cold and anti-social life, one must create it. He must have a concrete foundation, though he does not claim to know, but perhaps he occupies a position and solidifies it as best possible—this we call plugging the hole. This all humans do, even the philosopher who claims to not know, abides by a belief and strengthens his position as best possible, and if an attack is made against it, he further solidifies it…so on and so forth. And maybe they capitulate when that belief is battered and destroyed. He returns to God, as he believes in such a being to give him a sense of stability–that he is not going mental. One hopes that a God exists; if there is none then life is futile. Are we really alone in this vast expanse of space? Can, we be sure? I believe not; we can never be 100% sure God exists nor 100% sure he does not exist. At times (drawing from me) I think that perhaps there is no one out there–that all our prayers and "worships," those late nights spent crying, those moments of frustrations, groanings, and desire to overcome sin are futile. Maybe the belief in God is a creation of the human, to cope with the pains of this life. To cope with the reality that we are simply alone. Yet all reason, all proof points to a being (I'm convinced that is the case for myself). We perhaps simply doubt because we do not tangibly experience this being. Perhaps what we call being filled with the Holy Spirit is just the cause of a certain brain chemical; yet all reason points to someone out there. If I am, and you are--we all are, therefore there must be something that gives us an "I am" –who itself is I AM. Therefore, God exists, even on the days that I slightly doubt. This gives me comfort knowing that there is someone that BE, who gives me my being. Ah-ha I got it. Since we are made in the image of God, it means we are expressions of him-or manifestations of him. Each of us express the qualities of God to an extent (reasoning, love, patience, etc.). If that be true, then we can say that because of such; there must be a being who harbors these in PERFECTION. Not near perfection, but PERFECTION. Therefore, that being is God. And since we are made in the image of such being, then that being must be. For we cannot be a manifestation of a thing that does not exist. This belief soothes my anxiety and this seeming depression, as there is one thing, I seem to be confident in believing. That though all knowledge brings despair and fogginess–but that foggy mirror I look through, and that figure I see there to be, is nothing more than God upholding me. That though much knowledge brings despair, but a simple glance at this being fills me with hope, that life is not at all gloomy.
Perhaps I got on a tangent. One of you would say, but all you exclaimed was that one creates a foundation which knowledge does not take away. To which I reiterate: one can never know anything certainly, and I feel this to be the case of all anxiety. Have I proven happiness to be? Heck no, for the thought of knowing nothing persist on me. The only thing one can do in this life is to believe, be sure that belief must be supported by reason–by a good backing, yet you will still awake each day questioning life, for in the end you truly know not what life is. But live, be merry and glad, continue to be. But understand you must seek knowledge with the utmost caution. For in seeking much will deprive thee of all presumptions. Yet still I cannot bash knowledge, for to know is to live and to live is to know. Knowledge is palatable, to that I must concede. In the end it's a tradeoff–where much knowledge robs one of truly being, or perhaps one truly is, for they see the unfiltered state of all existence. In the end one thing remains, knowledge is powerful, so be cautious of how you use it.
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