What if There is No God!

He was about twelve years old; the freckles on his face gave him a Tom Sawyer appearance. A week at the beach had tanned his face and reddened his nose. When he saw our church banner, he strode across the boardwalk and paused in front of a pile of children’s books. Deliberately pointing his small finger at a colorful book titled “God loves you” he loudly proclaimed, “There is no God!!! It’s all a Big Bang.”

I was admittedly taken back; such authoritative misinformation from such a small person. I countered as pleasantly as I could, “Who started the Big Bang?” But it was no use. He became angry and shouted, “It’s all a Big Bang,” again and left.

An hour later he was back, walking with adults along the boardwalk. I turned to a companion and said, “There’s my friend.” The boy overheard and shouted back, “You’re not my friend,” and hastened to catch up with his companions.

And he was right! I had not been his friend. I had fenced with him on a childish level; but his faith was well established in the anti-God world of pseudo-wisdom. What should I have done? What should I have said?

How I longed to hug him, to point to the sky above, to show him the size of the universe. I wanted to talk to him about the complexity and value of his own mind and body. But someone got to him before I did; and they had taught him that the whole world was without any purpose . . . that he was without value, without hope.

He was angry. Who could blame him! He wore his disbelief like a protective shield and shot his words like bullets. But he was the victim of his own words, and the repeated words of others. Where had that anger come from? There was no amusement, no challenge allowed, no room for intellectual discussion.

I thought of other children far across the world whose families strap them with bombs and send them into public places to do as much damage as they can do as they die. They sacrifice the young lives on an altar of anger; for what? So that they can live in a world controlled by fear and hate?

Our country has become a nation of frustration. We have locked God and godly argument out of our schools and educational institutions. Now we are in the grips of drugs, disenchantment, frustration, and hopelessness.

Over the years we had been welcome at our booth near the beach. The town chief of police supported our effort to give out smiles, hope, and encouragement. But this year there had been trouble. We had been shouted at; our quiet music drowned out by loud speakers pointed in our direction carrying music with words that caused my mind to despair. We had to get a lawyer there to allow us to continue. Policemen stood across the boardwalk to make sure that I didn’t pass a book or flyer to anyone. What has happened to my country, to the freedom I knew. Why did a little boy make me so sad. Why couldn’t I give him hope?