The least I can say, the most I can say

If I’m honest, I don't really care all that much about sin. What makes me unhappy are pain and death. Those truly vex me. Ironically, though, it's my own expectations for pleasure and everlasting life in this world—sinful desires—that are causing my unhappiness.

Honest thinkers do not reduce humanity to mere instincts for self-preservation or suggest that self-interest is our ultimate end, because experience tells us otherwise. Our true purposes occupy a space in our minds distinct from natural needs. We can perceive the difference in the quality of our thoughts when we consider natural ends versus this other kind of purposefulness. Some thoughts exceed utility and trace a purpose that compels us to confront evil, embrace love, and seek genuine joy with honesty and creativity—finding what isn’t yet present in nature to behold or pursue.

Fighting evil is our mission. This fight isn't a war against other people or a struggle for self-preservation; it's a confrontation with evil itself—corruption in all its forms. We resist evil, and God defeats it. This resistance demands vigilance against its subtle influences in systems, ideologies, and within our own hearts. And to do this resist, sometimes we must love for no other reason than that we've promised ourselves that certain truths remain, regardless of appearances—including the basic duty to love. This steadfast commitment is to truth, beauty, and goodness, all of which occupy that mental space where our thoughts—going beyond natural ends—create impressions drawn from our experiences.

This is less about dutifulness than about a spirit of discovery—and that is something joyful. Joy isn't found in merely learning historical facts like being saved from God's wrath; rather, it is in loving the God who saves us from His wrath. This love transforms resistance into profound joy. This is a crucial distinction. Redemption doesn't just spare us; it reconciles us, making possible a relationship where there was once alienation. While we may not require a dramatic conversion experience, we will experience transformation—a turning of the heart toward God.

Creativity depends upon the discovery of what God gives to us out of pure grace. The biblical doctrine of conditional immortality underscores this truth: life and salvation are gifts that must be received. Immortality isn't inherent; it's freely offered by God but contingent upon His grace and our acceptance. This is about recognizing that eternal life isn't guaranteed.

Yet our love of our Savior, which we know through discovery and creativity, exists in tension with our resistance to evil. At every juncture, we face five options: Christianity, Camus' rebellion, obtuseness, despair, or the worship of false gods. Camus' rebellion honors resistance against the absurd but offers no hope beyond defiance. Obtuseness settles for superficial existence, avoiding deeper meaning. Despair denies any meaning at all, while idolatry misdirects our innate longing for transcendence toward false substitutes. Only Christianity unites the struggle against evil with the promise of joy and a transcendent purpose that endures.

Protestants and reformers are not identical, yet both are artists and agents of change; whenever beauty, goodness, and truth are discovered, the discoverer introduces change. But today, hardline Reformed Calvinists, Lutherans, and others do not embody this spirit. This is not to promote wanton change or progressivism but to encourage living in the light of Christ—and living is changing.

In embracing this mission, we recognize that our purpose transcends natural instincts and self-interest. By resisting evil through love and by embracing creativity rooted in grace—our lives being so intertwined that the consequences of evil become the burdens of those innocent of their causes—we live toward our super - natural ends.