Meaning...

(These thoughts came from reading the first chapter of Vanhoozer’s Book “Is there a meaning in this text?”)

In a world in which authorship is undone and all of nature (not creation) is here by sheer accident, whom do we praise? Since by default, the answer is “no one,” we must then place ourselves on the throne and ascribe glory to our great names.

Yet, we can’t thank ourselves for the earth. We can only carpool and recycle. We can’t thank ourselves for creating ourselves. We can only eat healthy and exercise. None of us willed ourselves into existence. All we can do is simply agree with Descartes and say ever so hastily, “I think, therefore I am.”

If there is no author, no originator and meaning is simply denied or declared as useless, the question must be asked, “Why would I need to have any form of relationship with anyone?” After all, everyone is simply here by happenstance. Just like me, their existence is just as pointless as my own.

Ah, nevertheless, we could agree with Nietzche or Anthony Fish and state ever so cleverly, “The reader now creates meaning.” The author is obsolete. Forgotten. And when he is mentioned, he is the butt of a joke. He is merely annoying.

An atheist can not look into the heavens and be in awe of anyone. He must simply stare into the great “accident.” Why is it that I do not care to go to Niagara Falls or the Grand Canyon with an atheist? Because nothing inside of them can celebrate a Creator. In fact, why should an atheist find pleasure in anything? Again, there is no one to thank for giving the pleasing circumstance.

Certainly, I can not say alongside Richard Dawkins, author of the God dilusion “I create my own purpose.” For, as a Christian, I believe an author and his or her intention is what preceeds a text. I believe that a painter must pick up the brush before a critic can have something to write about, and I believe a creator must exist in order for creation to exist. Some would say Aquinas was “on to something...”