I was recently asked by a friend who isn't exactly an atheist, "What if you're wrong?"
He didn't ask this in an arrogant or A-hole sort of way - the way many people do - but in a genuine, inquisitive sort of way; in a way that lead me to believe he has asked himself the same question many times, and, more importantly, will continue to do so.
Since that day, which was almost three weeks ago now, I haven't been able to put the thought down. Even now, my mind hasn't found a conclusion yet, and I doubt it ever will. Which is a good, I think, because, what if I am wrong? And not just about my faith, but about a million other things I feel so certain about that, seemingly, have grave and everlasting (or not) consequences? What if I'm wrong not just on a few small things, but a few huge things?
And about Life?
"What if you're wrong" might be the hardest, most important question to answer because if we are, it means we have to admit it, and that we have to change.
It means having to say we're sorry, which, at times, is harder than sliding a camel through the eye of a needle.
You're torn between the safety of where you are and the loyalty to your parents. I can't help but wondering if it's somewhat that's part of the genes. Part of the brain pattern. I think that for me, this is the essential part of the documentary.
That connectedness. It was more than I ever got from going to synagogue.
It's courageous to choose to the truth, even if that means abandoning what we know.
At the root of all humanity, there is doubt. We all doubt, even though we speak of absolutes and act with deep certainty, at the depths of us all, there is doubt. And because so, it should be something that unites us, not divides. Knowing that all of us are without absolutely certainty should fill us with compassion and patience, not arrogance and piety.
At least, that's what Philip Seymour Hoffman says.
For more on . . .
BE SURE TO SCROLL DOWN AND SUBSCRIBE - THANKS FOR READING!