Apologetics
Tribute to Life?
Robert G. Ingersoll, one of the most well-known infidels of yesteryear, gave an oration at his brother’s funeral. In his elquence, he made some statements which showed his view of life and death. His sentiments are the thoughts of many humanists and atheists. Consider some of the things he said, and ask yourself if this is the kind of world view that is desirable:
“While yet in love with life and raptured with the world, he passed into silence and pathetic dust. Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar above the sunken ship. For whether in mid-sea or among the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp and woof of mystery and death.”
These words reflect a life without God, one who had rejected any hope of eternal life. His idea was that every life must come to tragedy, no matter how happy one was. Contrast that attitude with what the apostle Paul wrote:
“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which to choose. But I am hard pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better” (Phil. 1:21-23).
Paul viewed life as precious, but he viewed eternal life with Christ as even more precious. He considered that leaving this world would result in gain. To depart from this life meant being “at home with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5:8). The Christian’s life is a life of hope and joy, not because of the present circumstances, but because of what lies ahead. What lies ahead is not “a tragedy sad and deep and dark,” but “the crown of righteousness,” the “inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you” (2 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 1:4). This is the Christian’s view of what happens when the earthly ship sinks.
Ingersoll continued in his tribute to his brother:
“Life is narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing. He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, ‘I am better now.’ Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas, of fears and tears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead.”
He almost sounds like a believer in this statement, but what he seems to be referring to is the “hope” that the dead know nothing at all. Passing into absolute extinction is “better,” and this is supposed to give all of us hope. Passing into “silence and pathetic dust” is supposed to be something that comforts us? Ingersoll did not seem too terribly comforted when he spoke these words. Cry aloud. There is One who hears and responds. He knows the pain in our hearts and the longings of our souls. In Him, we don’t look to an unreplying existence. “I’m better now,” will be true, not because we have ceased to be, but because we will be with Him throughout an eternal bliss
Doy Moyer
Jan. 2001