So you get Jacques Monod, for instance, saying, "Man must at last wake out of his millenary dream and discover his total solitude, his fundamental isolation. He must realise that like a gypsy he lives on the boundary of an alien world, a world that is deaf to his music and as indifferent to his hopes as it is to his sufferings or his crimes." Or Steve Weinberg, the Nobel Prize-winning physicist, who says the more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it seems pointless. Now those are not scientific propositions. They are what happens if you are tone-deaf to meaning. In Judaism we can live with that, but in Judaism it is a mood not a truth. Here's something in Judaism that sounds like Steve Weinberg or Jacques Monod:
Meaningless, meaningless, says the teacher, utterly meaningless, everything is meaningless. Man's fate is the same as the animal's, the same fate awaits them both: as one dies so does the other, all have the same breath, man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 1.)
But we have enough of a sense of humour in Judaism to say: "You're going to get out of this bad mood." We can accept it as a mood, but it's not a truth. And of course sometimes atheists — and I mean great atheists, really great atheists — can sound incredibly eloquent. The most eloquent piece of atheism I have ever read is by Bertrand Russell, who really was a stylish atheist, a serious atheist, and a thinker I like very much. Here is Bertrand Russell on a bad day:
That man is the product of causes, which had no provision of the end they were achieving. That his origin, his growth, his hopes, his fears, his loves and his beliefs are but the outcome of accidental collocations of atoms. That no fire, no heroism, no intensity of thought and feeling can preserve an individual life beyond the grave. That all the labours of the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noon-day brightness of human genius is destined to extinction in the vast death of the solar system and that the whole temple of man's achievement must inevitably be buried beneath the debris of a Universe in ruins. All these things if not quite beyond dispute are yet so nearly certain that no philosophy that rejects them can hope to stand. Only within the scaffolding of these truths, only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair can the soul's salvation henceforth be safely built.
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