Epicurus (341-270 BCE)

Epicurus is perhaps the best known of a coterie of ancient Greek philosophers who focused on matters of this world, cared little for the gods, and rejected the idea of immortality. Epicurus authored some 300 works; his masterpiece, On Nature, presented many of his atheistic ideas. Epicurus led a community of thinkers who focused on the pleasures of knowledge, friendship, and bodily experience. He taught that for a good life, we must overcome fear of pain and fear of the gods.

In his own words: "Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is God both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?"

From the Beliefnet Gallery of Unbelievers

Proverbs 15:
33 The fear of the LORD teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor.

Atheism seems to making a comeback these days. It will always be a belief option that some will embrace. It is eminently materialistic and tries to be utterly rational. And very often God becomes its arch-enemy.

I tried on atheism in my youth, and railed against God, seeking to discourage believers, especially Christians. I thought how dumb and irrational Christianity was: the worst of all religions. I even reasoned that it was the cause of so much trouble in the world, and it placed such ridiculous restrictions on people.

I remember, too, a nagging feeling about reality: that it was too ordered, too well designed, too amazing to just be some gigantic accident. And I began to weaken, too, as my life was coming apart at the seams at 19. I would soon encounter the God I despised.

Many would think that men like Epicurus (above) were wise. Indeed, if you embrace atheism, it is hard to be humble about it. You can't help but feel that religious people are classically stupid. You know that you are wiser than they are, and that their religious compulsions are causing them to miss out on life. And look, they have become slaves of God and holy men. How asinine! What a waste of time!

But atheists have a big problem, too. They face the most starkly cold reality of death. It is just annihilation. All they are is a blip on the screen of millions of years of evolution, and they end in oblivion. These wisest of men are essentially nothing, hopeless, and adrift in a terrifying cosmos. But for a brief season, they can do what they want.

Some of them became murderers of whole masses of people. But why not, if you face nothing but death yourself? What does it matter?

Jesus disrupted the wisdom of this world; and he marvellously deconstructed it. No revolution of thought or action was more far-reaching than his: nor is it over by a long shot. He really overturned everything: civilizations, empires, religions, philosophies, and all the wisdom of the ancients. And he never wrote down one word ~ he just died on a cross.

The "fear" of the Lord sounds scary, and, no doubt to some, like lunacy. Fear is irrational, often. But other times it is rational. We should fear tigers, for instance. We should fear to drive at high speeds on bald tires. We should fear hurricanes. But why fear God? We don't see him or hear him. We have little real-world evidence that he even exists. Thus, to fear him could be irrational.

I came to fear him because I encountered him: I know him personally. He is as real to me as my wife; and he knows me better than she does. He knows the real me. He knows the me underneath the fake veneer. Consider the words of the song Amazing Grace: "T'was grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved...."

I encountered God at 19 and was humbled. Suddenly I knew he was real. But I also knew he was more terrifyingly huge than anything else, for he made it all. Where did I find the arrogance to defy him?

More awesome than that, however, was that I found the greatest friend possible. I learned to fear and at the same time was freed from fear. Especially the fear of death. He faced my death for me. He who programmed death into the fabric of his cosmos now dismantled it. And he even pardoned me for the reasons I was worthy to die.

In the end, atheism was a huge letdown, a blind alley, even a boring anticlimax. It had promised me freedom and delivered to me fear. Whereas the God that seemed ludicrous to me introduced me to what I should really fear, and granted me freedom. A paradox?

Belief is worth a try. Like a long-shot scientific hypothesis, perhaps. It is the key, though. You haven't lived until you take the leap.