Here is a thing that always bugged me as an Atheist and hasn’t changed since I crossed over to the La La Land of Christian Lemmingism. I seem to remember getting a lot of crap over the notion that, as an Atheist, I believed this one life was all I had.

“Isn’t it sad or depressing to think that when you die you simply cease to exist?” my well-meaning Christian friends would query.

It always seemed obvious to me then, and still does now, that nothing was better than Hell. Wait, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is that ceasing to exist is preferred to spending an eternity in a place like Hell. It is more sad and depressing to me that people who spent an inordinate amount of time doing good on this earth would go to Hell for an eternity than that all people would have one, short, finite life. I mean really. Which presents the greater tragedy?

Another thing I would hear along the same lines is, “If this life is all you have then where is your incentive to be good? Wouldn’t you be motivated to lie and exploit and deceive and cheat since you have just this one life to seek pleasure and no fear of eternal consequences?”

The logic goes, since Atheists don’t know God, the source of all goodness, how could they be anything but powerless to chase after both the carnal and the diabolical sins? They can’t help it, right?

No.

Atheists are not so shallow and immoral as you might expect. They believe in love and justice and honor and respect and the sanctity of marriage. They die for our country, uphold our laws, research our medical treatments, and educate our children. When you believe that you only have one, finite life… your motivation is to seek pleasure to be sure. But if the good things in life really are good, and the bad things really are bad, what greater pleasure could there be than spending a single, finite life pursuing the joy and satisfaction that can only be achieved by the higher virtues?

Besides, I think it is best that we, as Christians, not be too quick to pull out our moral report card to compare it against others. I’m not convinced I’d be too keen on the results, personally.

Here is the second half of my letter to Bill.

So I prayed. I prayed leading up to your sentencing. I did my best to show you grace on the site. I asked God to give you justice and mercy, and I specifically remember praying that God would ignore any notions I had about how much justice and how much mercy because I was a stupid, broken man with very little qualification to make such a decision. I prayed for you after your sentencing. I believe it was through all of this (the praying, the online interaction,  the letters) that I became discontent with being angry at you for what you did and I started wanting to help you. I started believing that you could change. I mean, I knew that you could change. I believed that God was powerful enough to help you if he was willing. But I started to believe that you, too, were ready. That you, too, were willing.

I send you books because I want to help. I am convinced that you really are preparing yourself to take full advantage of your fresh, new start. I can’t do a lot to help and sending a few books here and there is easy for me, especially because you can accept Amazon.com shipments. I’m already on Amazon several times a month buying books for myself and your shipping address is programmed in. Actually, you are probably the best person for me to send books to. I think most of the books we give away never get read. Not only do you read them but you share them with other people who actually read them also. That’s a flippin sweet return on investment if you ask me.  

I will continue to send you books at least another time or two while you are in. I’m reading a great one right now that I think you’ll dig by Francis Chan. It’s not about sex addiction or integrity but I imagine a little diversity would be welcomed. Do you have access to any David McCullough or Malcolm Gladwell books? They are also excellent. You’ve never asked me for anything in your letters except companionship (as in: “I’d love to hear from you”). Is there a book you’ve been wanting to read?

I don’t know where to go from here, man. I’m not sure what will happen when you get out. I have asked myself this question. What if Bill was in Georgia? What if he was in my town? Would I be his “real” friend and to what degree? What if he was just passing through? Would I meet him for coffee?

The truth is that I want to be your friend and that I want to buy you coffee and hang out and chat. The truth is that I want to continue to help you become the sort of man who would be immune to the temptation of falling back into your former behavior. Not just for you, but for the exploited victims. 

But the truth is that in spite of what I want, and in spite of the man I feel God is calling me to be, I have two young daughters, a mercy-resistant heart, and a belly full of fear. 

I honestly don’t know if I am man enough.

You challenge me, Bill. Your friendship and correspondence challenges me in a good way. As messed up as it may sound, I’m thankful for that. When I first learned about you I couldn’t really feel compassion for you. But now that I know you, I do. And I hope that you still write to me.

Thank you.

Chris

Conclusion and final thoughts: An Unconscionable Addiction – Part 4