读后感:Autobiograph of God (completed and cleaned up)
Posted: 2005-06-19 10:32
[This is for Helen, who recommended the book to me.]
I had never read any book that explained and explored Judaism so extensively. The author apparently converted to Judaism and is a religious scholar.
So the perpetual question is: Is God just and good and benevolent? If so, why is there so much evil in this world? Does God love man? If so, why is there so much pain and suffering?
Rebecca, the heroine of the book, a female rabbi and college counselor, was visited by God and invited to read His biography. And her answer is: God is both good and evil. He is responsible for the evil and pain and suffering as much as he is for the beauty and good and love in the world.
For a people who endured a long history of suffering and persecution, really this is the only logical conclusion for anyone who can bear to consider all the facts.
It is moving that for Rebecca, and probably Lester himself, knowing God is not all loving and benevolent does not diminish their love for Him. They still love Him even though He does not love them back.
Yet I have no love in my heart for Him.
This is what bothered me so much after I saw the movie "Frailty." It instilled fear and agony in my heart, because it proposed the possibility that this is what God wants -- evil and killing and brutality, merciless punishment, random suffering and violence. After seeing the movie, nightmares haunted me until dawn, because I was faced with the terrifying (and persuasive) likelihood of a God like this. Certainly, such a God is far more plausible than an almighty, just, and loving God, if one only looks around in this world.
But at the end of that night, I finally came to a conclusion that allowed me to sleep again -- Even if this is what God wants and He has infinite power and I have none, I still have a choice, and I still choose to reject violence and murder in the name of revenge and justice, reject hate and suffering, reject injustice, reject evil. Even if I can never have and reach any of these ideals, I still choose to love mercy, compassion, kindness and good, however difficult and impossible they are. Sorry, if You had given me this thing called "free will," then You would have to accept that at some point I could reject what You also put into this world and in man, and that I choose NOT to love You.
I had said elsewhere that now I know why I have always clung to science and logic and thus the (highly likely) possibility that there is no God, for it hurts less to believe that I'm living in an indifferent universe, where good has as much a chance to prevail as evil, that all that is human is as insignificant and temporary as the shooting stars, that none of the pain and agony is for ever. I need the assurance of oblivion like others need the assurance of believing in a loving and good deity who watches over them and gives them a good life and a good afterlife.
Yet I am not an absolute atheist. I am agonostic. Even though I have never loved Him or firmly believed in Him, I have always a tinge of fear of Him in the back of my mind -- what if Him indeed existed and cared what I think of Him? It's never a good idea to cross the powerful, especially the most powerful of all.
Ted Chiang ends his story "Hell Is the Absence of God" with what eerily similar to Orwell's 1984. Once in hell, the previously skeptical main character who suffered throughout his life now whole-heartedly believes in God and loves Him, even though he no longer has any access to Him. At the end of 1984, the hero whose will was finally crushed by the totalitarian power of Big Brother, now loves Big Brother with all his heart.
So what is it that forces them to love Him who puts them in hell? Is it power? Is it just another manifestation of the Stockholm Syndrome?
I am nothing. I am weak. I am afraid. I am as full of fear of power as anyone in the world. So, in my tiny, terrified, trembling voice to God: I choose to stand by ideals of good, however unattainable and false they are. I choose to reject ideals of evil, even if they are as much a part of You, too.
Or is it the fear and revulsion of the absolute aloneness that drive people to loving God? Is a God who does not love them back good enough as long as they love Him, as long as the universe is not an absolute void in which their love would just dissolve and disappear into the cold darkness without a wimper?
Then I am lucky, for I was made into a person who does not mind and perhaps even embraces the absolute aloneness in the cold darkness of the universe.
There are still others who seek assurance and comfort in suffering and pain, like Graham Greene. Somehow Catholicism attracts these people.
People seek a thousand different things. People may find all of them in religion, or not. There may be a God, or not. God may be good, or not. God may be omnipotent, or not. I'm still betting on the absence of God and am gladly living in Ted Chiang's hell, but it doesn't matter, for physics grants me a destination that says, as long as there is the promise of the ultimate nothingness, all is fair and fine. That promise alone makes me almost believe that there is a just, fair, and kind God after all.
I had never read any book that explained and explored Judaism so extensively. The author apparently converted to Judaism and is a religious scholar.
So the perpetual question is: Is God just and good and benevolent? If so, why is there so much evil in this world? Does God love man? If so, why is there so much pain and suffering?
Rebecca, the heroine of the book, a female rabbi and college counselor, was visited by God and invited to read His biography. And her answer is: God is both good and evil. He is responsible for the evil and pain and suffering as much as he is for the beauty and good and love in the world.
For a people who endured a long history of suffering and persecution, really this is the only logical conclusion for anyone who can bear to consider all the facts.
It is moving that for Rebecca, and probably Lester himself, knowing God is not all loving and benevolent does not diminish their love for Him. They still love Him even though He does not love them back.
Yet I have no love in my heart for Him.
This is what bothered me so much after I saw the movie "Frailty." It instilled fear and agony in my heart, because it proposed the possibility that this is what God wants -- evil and killing and brutality, merciless punishment, random suffering and violence. After seeing the movie, nightmares haunted me until dawn, because I was faced with the terrifying (and persuasive) likelihood of a God like this. Certainly, such a God is far more plausible than an almighty, just, and loving God, if one only looks around in this world.
But at the end of that night, I finally came to a conclusion that allowed me to sleep again -- Even if this is what God wants and He has infinite power and I have none, I still have a choice, and I still choose to reject violence and murder in the name of revenge and justice, reject hate and suffering, reject injustice, reject evil. Even if I can never have and reach any of these ideals, I still choose to love mercy, compassion, kindness and good, however difficult and impossible they are. Sorry, if You had given me this thing called "free will," then You would have to accept that at some point I could reject what You also put into this world and in man, and that I choose NOT to love You.
I had said elsewhere that now I know why I have always clung to science and logic and thus the (highly likely) possibility that there is no God, for it hurts less to believe that I'm living in an indifferent universe, where good has as much a chance to prevail as evil, that all that is human is as insignificant and temporary as the shooting stars, that none of the pain and agony is for ever. I need the assurance of oblivion like others need the assurance of believing in a loving and good deity who watches over them and gives them a good life and a good afterlife.
Yet I am not an absolute atheist. I am agonostic. Even though I have never loved Him or firmly believed in Him, I have always a tinge of fear of Him in the back of my mind -- what if Him indeed existed and cared what I think of Him? It's never a good idea to cross the powerful, especially the most powerful of all.
Ted Chiang ends his story "Hell Is the Absence of God" with what eerily similar to Orwell's 1984. Once in hell, the previously skeptical main character who suffered throughout his life now whole-heartedly believes in God and loves Him, even though he no longer has any access to Him. At the end of 1984, the hero whose will was finally crushed by the totalitarian power of Big Brother, now loves Big Brother with all his heart.
So what is it that forces them to love Him who puts them in hell? Is it power? Is it just another manifestation of the Stockholm Syndrome?
I am nothing. I am weak. I am afraid. I am as full of fear of power as anyone in the world. So, in my tiny, terrified, trembling voice to God: I choose to stand by ideals of good, however unattainable and false they are. I choose to reject ideals of evil, even if they are as much a part of You, too.
Or is it the fear and revulsion of the absolute aloneness that drive people to loving God? Is a God who does not love them back good enough as long as they love Him, as long as the universe is not an absolute void in which their love would just dissolve and disappear into the cold darkness without a wimper?
Then I am lucky, for I was made into a person who does not mind and perhaps even embraces the absolute aloneness in the cold darkness of the universe.
There are still others who seek assurance and comfort in suffering and pain, like Graham Greene. Somehow Catholicism attracts these people.
People seek a thousand different things. People may find all of them in religion, or not. There may be a God, or not. God may be good, or not. God may be omnipotent, or not. I'm still betting on the absence of God and am gladly living in Ted Chiang's hell, but it doesn't matter, for physics grants me a destination that says, as long as there is the promise of the ultimate nothingness, all is fair and fine. That promise alone makes me almost believe that there is a just, fair, and kind God after all.