Sir William S. Gilbert said, "I can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule. Consequently, my family pride is something inconceivable. I can't help it. I was born sneering."

Indeed, if man is but a compound complex combination of mutant molecules, merely a quivering mass of protein and protoplasm bound and skewered to a skeleton of bones, why should he not sneer and jeer rather than fear God? The question awaits an answer. Fellow organic blobs, the echoes of silence are deafening.

A master musician of yesteryear said, "I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psa. 139:14). The reverse and converse is, " I will praise no one or nothing; for I am simply an accident of eons, a tragedy of chance." Man observes his fortuitous surroundings and proudly proclaims himself lord of an evolutionary time chain. He crowns himself with glory and honor because he reckons that he is more noble than a pig in a sty. Says who? Certainly not the pig. He would not desert the comfort of mud for a professor's hopeless existence. And pity the poor professor. He cannot enjoy the mud from whence he came. Ali, but unbelief has its rewards. He can savor the pig from he whom descended.

Does an unbeliever ever question his humanistic, atheistic philosophy? Does he ever, in the solitude of a cold, dark night, ponder his origin, mission and destiny? Does he ever silently wonder if there is a God? Does he ever ask, in the silent recesses of his denied and banished soul, if there is a Supreme Being who created him and his environment? Does he ever dream of whether or not there is a slight chance of life beyond the grave? Does he ever dare to risk the thought that there may be a day of Judgment which will hold him accountable for his deeds? Does he ever waver and doubt his philosophic presuppositions regarding his origin, nature and purpose? Does he ever wish to believe and hope for something besides death and the grave? Does he ever long for something besides becoming food for worms? Does he even think that just maybe. . . . Nah, he assures us with a shrug of the shoulders, he never considers such things. But, then again, neither does the pig.

Evolution of a Preacher's Pride

Abraham Lincoln said, "I am nothing. Truth is everything"

Many men, many Christians, begin with that assumption. They enjoy a measure of success because truth will buoy its bearers. They develop a feeling, an air of importance and significance, that should be reserved for truth. Their ultimate decline is a downward spiral of personal pride. From the humble spirit manifest in Lincoln's words, "I am nothing. Truth is everything," the descending steps and stages of pride are:

"I am almost nothing. Truth is everything."

"I am a little something. Truth is almost everything."

"I am something. Truth is something."

"I am something. Truth is relative but important."

"I am something. Truth is relative."

"I am everything. Truth is not obtainable."

"I am truth."

Guardian of Truth XXXIII: 16, p. 487
August 17, 1989