Daniel Morgan said:
“This is ridiculous and offensive. Simply because I don't believe that my consciousness continues to exist after my body dies doesn't mean that I don't have a legacy via my life's work, children, etc. Just because I don't believe in ‘eternal destiny’ or ‘preordained destiny’ doesn't mean that I will have no good and worthy end, or goals, to my life. I am quite glad that I don't live in a universe in which some other Being gets to decide my fate, that I am not a vessel fitted for destruction (or grace), but a person whose decisions and character, coupled to chance and those of others, determine his fate.”
Ah, yes, I will die and feed the worms, but I will live on in the legacy of my life’s work and in the hearts of my loved ones.
This is the soft, soppy-wet pacifier that many an atheist plants in his silk-lined casket to suck on as he contemplates the prospect of his own impending oblivion.
What does it mean to live on in the memory of one’s posterity? To begin with, that’s a sorry substitute for personal immortality.
For another thing, they, too, will die, and their fond memories of you will die with them.
“Gone, but not forgotten” is a nice epitaph, but the epitaph is quickly overgrown with weeds.
The legacy of your life’s work? Danny, you’re just a replaceable part in the cogwheel of the cosmic treadmill.
As soon as you’re gone, someone will clean out your desk, trade your family photos for his own, and take your place on death row.
Danny, once your gone, the world will continue along its merry way just as if you never existed.
Danny, you don’t make a difference.
Danny, you don’t make a dent.
You’re a bug on the windshield.
As far as secularism is concerned, life is just one vast, collective mortuary. Some cadavers take the dayshift while others take the nightshift, but it’s merely a matter of space management who gets which cubicle when.
I don’t have to be a Christian to render such a bleak value-judgment of secularism. Danny forgets that many Christians used to be where he is now.
I’m not speaking as a middle-aged Christian. No, I’m still speaking as an adolescent unbeliever in junior high.
I’ve held this view of secularism since the time I used to be a secularist.
Oh, yes, there will always doe-eyed humanists like Sagan, Kurtz, Bronowski, and Corliss Lamont to rouge the cheeks and gloss the lips of their secular crowbait, but even as a 14 year old on the cusp of manhood, with the grave a distant and distinctly abstract prospect, I knew better than to mistake embalming fluid for immortality on the cheap.