8-12-90 . . . People often wonder about the meaning of life. I’ve had students chastize [sic; should be “chastise”] me for being an agnostic, claiming that if I don’t believe in God, life cannot possibly have meaning for me. This always struck me as silly, for I knew full well from the inside that my life was meaningful. “My projects, friends, and companions give my life meaning,” I would say, but to no avail. It was incomprehensible to these people that there could be meaning without (1) belief in God, (2) belief in an immortal soul (that is, an afterlife), and (3) belief that the trials and tribulations of life have some deeper purpose—that God is the source and insurer of justice. I would invariably point out that there are two sorts of meaning: monolithic and pluralistic. Theists find meaning in one belief or being: God. This organizes every aspect of their lives. In contrast, I find meaning in many places. There are intrinsic rewards in doing good deeds, creating literary works, and striking a balance between the physical, intellectual, and emotional sides of my self (not that I’ve achieved it, by any means, but I’m always trying). Like Albert Camus [1913-1960], I am content—indeed, pleased to be able—to “create in the desert”. This journal, for example, gives me an immortality that I would not otherwise have.
Theist or not, everyone is a constructor of meaning. We surround ourselves with friends and acquaintances who share our beliefs, engage our intellects, and laugh at life’s many ironies and absurdities. Many of us throw ourselves into our work, identifying with it to such an extent that when work falters, we take it as a personal failure. When things go well, we feel good about ourselves and our projects. To be at work is to be in one’s abode. And of course there is family, some of it chosen (spouse) and some not (parents, grandparents, siblings, and children). Many people live for and through their children, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It generates emotions and attitudes such as devotion, love, and concern for the welfare of others. Over and over again I hear people say that when they became a parent, their entire perspective on the world changed. No longer did they live for the moment; now they looked decades into the future. Perhaps the greatest source of meaning in human history has been religion. For many people, this is what ties the other strands of their life together. Family, work, friends, death, struggle, pain. Belief in God can make sense of these things, even if ultimately (as I believe) it is false. So all of us are worldmakers, to use Nelson Goodman’s [1906-1998] term. We can’t help but be. Why else get up in the morning? Why else strive?
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 