Insanity Defenses: Escaping the Madness of Faith Michael Wilmot
Based on the fact that knowing why you believe what you believe requires reason and faith, Wilmot examines biblical truths, philosophical arguments, evidence of the supernatural, and practical applications in order to understand who God is and what the response must be to that knowledge.
It happens with impossible silence. The magic of morning rises as the blanket of night descends. Dawn comes with assurances earned from eons of experience. In deference to cosmic laws, beyond our reason, forces of unimaginable power weave infinitesimally tiny objects of galaxies, planets and stars into a tapestry of wonder. Not one thing is out of place or out of control. No rogues or revolutionaries are permitted here. It is a creation in motion and of motion, swirling around an inestimable space. Collisions or near misses are never random happenstance. Everything that is in movement is a slave to a compass enjoying the freedom of a universe. Energy and time are congealing with gravity and mass, producing horrendous consequences. Stars are forming or collapsing, each with power beyond our measure. But still they are no more effective than a plow in the ocean â€”- mere blips of energy. They are barely of notice, hardly remarkable at all to the whole, as they cascade around us with an endless tide of energy.
And then there is us, caught in the maelstrom of the universe. Thrusting around a burning star, and twirling on a delicate axis in a thimble of space with busy neighbors. Each orbiter feeds off of and affects the other in their cosmic dance. Brutal waves of radiance slam against the, oh-so-thin, layer of clear smoke above the earth. A tiny moon reaches out to caress the earthâ€™s oceans, pulling them forward and thrusting them back endlessly, tirelessly, relentlessly. Heat from heaven is falling and deep furnaces from below are rising. Compressions and contractions from titans of earth are elbowing for room and vibrating with unreleased tension. Mountains of earth are rising or falling, oblivious to the consequences, altering far distant horizons, and re-sculpturing the foundations of the deep.
All of this is happening at once, sleepless and restless. It is happening at this very moment.
And yet the dawn comes without a whisper, quieter than a catâ€™s paws on rich velvet. The wind rising from the trees of the valley deep below, that is running through my hair, I sense. The call of birds, I hear. The cold damp of sweat from my shirt against my skin, I feel. The vision of a haze of light over the distant horizon is drawing brighter, and yet I feel it not. Even knowing exactly when it will come and reaching out with all that I know, all that I am, is futile. I am trying to catch smoke in a butterfly net. It seems wrong, like something is broken inside of me, severed from by some form of pitiless surgery or butchery. The universe is observed only by my failing eyes and crippled mind. I am a starving man gorging at a banquet. I am dying of thirst while under the crushing cascade of a waterfall.
This is the very stepping stone of madness.
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