Meaning

I wrote a paper recently for which I did a fair bit of reading. One of the authors, a ‘skeptical realist,’ said that we cannot discover Truth... she used the term ‘incommensurable’ in relation to truth and our ability to comprehend it.

In some ways I think she was right. Being finite, we cannot hope to fully comprehend a truth that is ultimately infinite, for it originates in the Creator. But though her outlook may have been realistic in one sense (and I do applaud such honesty), I do not think it a healthy attitude toward life. In her view, we each create systems of understanding or belief, merely to create meaning for ourselves. Again, I think she is partially correct. We all seek for some meaning, purpose, importance... yet how many can step back and say that we’ve discovered it, that we fully understand what it’s all about and what we are supposed to be doing. There may be a few wise people who would say they have, but I’d wager that most who would contend they have are ignorant or simplistic.

However, it is not helpful to declare it all to be meaningless. Such an attitude would lead me to the logical step of ending my own life. There is a connection between what we do here and what happens after we leave. There’s a connection between this brief pre-dawn mist that is our lives and the eternal morning that will soon come. Though we may not feel satisfied with whatever answers we discover while living here, the search is important. I don’t want to become complacent and drift along aimlessly.