belief

I read a short story this morning, and in the end, my face was sopping with tears. The story wasn't sad or anything, but this story understands me. It is as if the author is writing completely about me, and it scared me that someone could know me better than I know myself.
(The short story is titled The Garbage Man's Daughter by David James Duncan)

I choose to believe in mystery and fantasy because the world is dying and broken, and even if there is no magic powerful enough to save it, life is better--well, life is possible--if I choose to believe in something that may not be true. [this is something that has taken a lot of pain to finally decide. for a while there, i didn't believe anything because, to me, there was no rational and logical argument for any truth]

Hope, for me, is in Christianity, and the story of redemption that will bring shalom (wholeness) to the broken world. But, I also maintain this other hope--almost a kind of silliness--that I know is not true, it is an innocent and naive hope that there is some mystery, some secret, some magic that is powerful and good enough to save the world. All along, I know that Christianity may not be truth, that this naive hope may not be reasonable, but of all things I could believe to be the truth, of all that I could base my life upon, this faith is going to bring out the best in a life and the lives of others.

So, I've adopted this Pragmatism:
"What do you think of yourself? What do you thing of the world? . . . These are questions with which all must deal as it seems good to them. They are riddles of the Sphinx, and in some way or other we must deal with them. . . . In all important transactions of life we have to take a leap in the dark. . . . If we decide to leave the riddles unanswered, that is a choice; if we waver in our answer, that, too, is a choice: but whatever choice we make, we make it at our peril. If a man chooses to turn his back altogether on God and the future, no one can prevent him; no one can show beyond reasonable doubt that he is mistaken. If a man thinks otherwise and acts as he thinks, I do not see that any one can prove that he is mistaken. Each must act as he thinks best; and if he is wrong, so much the worse for him. We stand on a a mountain pass in the midst of whirling snow and blinding mist, through which we get glimpses now and then of paths which may be deceptive. If we stand still we shall be frozen to death. If we take the wrong road we shall be dashed to pieces. We do not certainly know whether there is any right one. What must we do? 'Be strong and of good courage.' Act for the best, hope for the best, and take what comes. . . . If death ends all, we cannot meet death better."

(Fitzjames Stephen, quoted by William James in "The Will to Believe" (1896). . . in my book Pragmatism, a reader by Louis Menand)

And after reading through that quote again, I wish there were some way to determine the truth, to say that there is a bounded truth, and that you can tell that some do not know it and some do. But, at this point in my thought, there just doesn't appear to be such a thing. So, I'll keep reading Plato and Herodotus...but I'll also keep studying the bible.