when I was young I doubted early. I came up with this “theory” that it didn’t matter if there was a God.
it went like this:
If you believe in the afterlife then lickity-split before you’re brain dead your brain imagines the afterlife. Convenient huh?
I’ve wondered in the past if the brain might do this at the point of death. Perhaps as it shuts down, the sense of time gets distorted, and the last moments feel like eternity. This could be a very disturbing theory, as the brain might think it deserves hell.
Swear there aint’ no heaven
And I pray there ain’t no hell,
But I’ll never know by livin;
Only my dying will tell
Yes, only my dyin’ will tell,
Yeah, only my dying will tell
I heard this Blood, Sweat and Tears song (When I Die) as a youngster, and this verse pretty much took care of all my questions on this subject.
“A farmer went out to sow some seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds of the air ate it up. Some fell on rock, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” — Jesus (Luke 8:4-8)
Sometimes, looking back, a person may find that what he thought were seeds of atheism were actually tiny little Garden Weasels[sup]TM[/sup] working on digging up the kudzu of unclarity, preparing for the spreading of the mulch of metaphor.