I had a fellow come up to me a few days ago and attempt to challenge my lack of belief in gods. “What if you’re wrong?” he asked. He went on to describe the various and everlasting horrors of Hell that would await me if I didn’t change my mind.
I’ll recap bits of that conversation and the various ways it fails in the next few posts, but I want to start by tackling the overarching mindset that prompts such a question. First, though, let’s acknowledge that this question is merely a crude rehash of the old thought experiment proposed by mathematician Blaise Pascal.
Pascal’s Wager
Pascal postulated that one should believe in God based on some simple logic. In its popular form the logic is stated in this way: If one believes in God and God exists, then there is an infinite reward awaiting, but if God does not exist, then belief costs nothing. On the other hand, if one does not believe and God exists, there is an infinite penalty, but if God does not exist then there is no advantage. Mathematically speaking, then, the best bet is to believe in God.
If you spend 30 seconds Googling “Pascal’s Wager” you’ll find a multitude of ways that it fails (and, perhaps one day, that list will include these posts). But, this particular variant of the argument is interesting to discuss on its own.
Is this any way to live?
“What if you’re wrong?”
What was he asking me to do? Cower beneath a blanket of comfort and familiarity? Be afraid to come out because of some boogie man? If you read my last post on faith and hope, you’ll know that I think this is a very limited way to live. Certainly the prudent person will prepare for difficulties, but there is always risk. It is always possible that your expectations will fail; but how could you discover, how could you create, how could you explore, how could you love if you were always looking over your shoulder asking, “What if I’m wrong?”
Please don’t confuse this with, “Might I be wrong?” This very website is called Doubtland because it is dedicated to the idea that doubt is good. As I’ve pointed out, any idea when unquestioned becomes nothing but another superstition. The curious one, the seeker of truth is always doubting and questioning. For her, the question, “What if you’re wrong?” holds no fear. The answer is a casual, “I might be wrong. Let’s find out. For, if I’m wrong, I want to learn of it and add to my knowledge.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then, I’ve just discovered another way not to make a lightbulb.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Fantastic! Let’s try something else.”
Should I live in fear?
Curious inquiry is so very different than the question the fellow posed to me. His emphasis was on the fear. He said that if I was wrong, there is an eternity of Hell awaiting. I should be afraid to question the story because destruction awaits. Can you imagine any worthwhile accomplishment that could be achieved with this mindset? How might the sea-going explorers of old have answered the question as their supplies dwindled down and they faced the decision to continue the voyage.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we will perish. Yet, we will press on.”
There is a passage in the Bible that reads, “Perfect love casts out all fear.” How badly did the fellow miss this important point? Love moves us forward in spite of our fears—love of exploration, love of discovery, love of truth. This is how change comes. This is how we grow. This is how the human race moves forward.
“What if you’re wrong?” they ask.
I’m willing to take that risk for the beauty that unfolds before me every day that I shrug off the mantle of fear and stride forward hungry for truth.