I could live anywhere in the world… if it weren’t for Second Valley. You see: it’s spoilt me for living anywhere else. Now: before I tell you any more, I have to insist you promise not to share this information with anyone. Otherwise, the world will turn up at Second Valley, and spoil its charm.
It is, unsurprisingly, a valley, which runs between steeply rounded hills to the sea. The hillsides are golden in the summer — particularly when highlighted by the setting sun — and green in the winter. Winter is best. In the mornings, there’s a hint of wood-smoke in the air, and cattle munch contentedly on steep hills silvered with dew.
Houses are sparse, and there are old stone cottages with secret stories hidden amongst them.
The beach is a arc of sand squeezed between rocky headlands and dramatic cliffs. It looks like something from the front cover of an Enid Blyton “Famous Five” book. Note to millennials: Enid Blyton wrote innocent adventure books about children who did not spend their lives chained to social media platforms. Her literary legacy was largely killed off some decades ago by political correctness which, in its creative way, managed to conjure offense from its innocence. Today, children are required to read about gender fluidity and stranger danger instead.
But I digress. Second Valley is a place where you can sit and listen to the sea gurgling as it lifts and falls between the rocks… and marvel at the symmetry of the wings of a seagull — all important things.
If you look beyond the harshly minimalistic metal toilet block and the modern safety rails on the jetty, the place still whispers its history.
And why do I tell you this?
Because life, despite being corrupted by sin and suffering, is miraculous. Something of its beauty and design still pierces the armoured protection we’ve place over our hearts to protect ourselves against the possibility of God.
Ours really is an amazing universe. Please don’t take it for granted and fail to ponder what might be behind it.
I was listening to an atheist on TV, a scientist, who was trying to convince the lady interviewing him that she had no significance beyond being a random bag of protons, electrons and neutrons. There was no purpose to her, no meaning to her, and nothing significant about her existence. The atheist smiled at her with the smile of someone who was a scientist and therefore knew that what he was saying was true.
Did he know the truth, I wonder. What do you think?
There are three rather obvious problems with his claim. Firstly: He has manifestly failed to explain why how the extraordinary complex, quantum world of sub-atomic particles came about. To assume they came from nothing, as a result of nothing by a mechanism that has never been discovered and for which there is no precedent, is scientifically absurd. Science relies on the principle of “cause and effect.” The atheist has given no explanation as to what caused the sub-atomic particles to exist and do what they do in their marvellous micro world.
Secondly: He has given no explanation as to why these atomic particles have been organised over in time to form sentient life on the third planet out from a middle-aged star. He has not explained why beautiful laws of physics and mathematical codes have come about to build life… to build people capable of laughter, compassion and creativity.
Thirdly: If everything is just a cosmic accident, then there is no fundamental philosophic truth inside of anyone. All there is, according to the atheist, is a bag of sub-atomic particles. Therefore, how can the atheist reliably know there is no God? By his own admission, all he is, is a bunch of meaningless particles from which it is impossible to produce a truth claim of any philosophic substance. In other words, if what he says is true, he cannot know he is speaking the truth about truth. His highly reductionist model of humanity reduces everything to meaninglessness, including his own truth claims. He’s like someone who just sees bits of metal, plastic and carbon fibre… but doesn’t know he is actually looking at a formula one racing car that has been built for a purpose.
If these three reasons aren’t enough to reject such atheistic claims, there is also the fact that most of humanity has had the conviction, at least at some stage in their life, that there is a mind behind the cosmos. In other words, it seems as if we are programmed to relate to God. Notwithstanding our predilection for rebelling against obeying anyone other than ourselves, there’s still the nagging in our hearts that suggests we should seek God.
And this particularly happens when you slow down enough to enjoy the beauty of places such as Second Valley.
Don’t you think its time you sought out the mind behind your existence and discovered his love for you?
