Aurelius’ theory is laid out rather logically, but a few
moments’ consideration reveals some underlying assumptions that cast doubt on his
conclusion.
First, virtue or goodness, unless defined by a sole authority,
is a moving target; one’s culture, upbringing, and personal perspectives affect
what an individual perceives as most “virtuous.” For example, in a dilemma, is it more virtuous
to do what is better for one’s family or for one’s country? Is it more virtuous to lie to keep the peace or
to never lie at all? Is it more virtuous
to tolerate rude people or to encourage them toward more considerate behavior? Is it ever virtuous to kill to save one or
more lives? Is collaboration virtuous,
or is it plagiarism and immoral—or is it amoral? Is it more virtuous to obey the law or to
obey one’s conscience or one’s God? A
person can find many such situations—some small, some large—and the answer will
vary according to the individual asked.
Would any decent judge allow the one on trial to define what
is good or virtuous? Of course not! Would a judge write off a defendant’s crimes if
that person did his or her best otherwise?
That wouldn’t be fair! Humans are
masters at justifying all manner of atrocities, from a childish prank to genocide. Thus, regarding Aurelius’s first premise, presuming
there is a God, and presuming that Being is just, won’t that same justice
require Him to judge a person as welcome or not according to one unchanging
standard—not an individual’s best effort or a fuzzy definition of “a good life”?
Following this line of thought, still working under the
assumption of the existence of a just God or gods, we’re left wondering what Heaven’s
unchanging standard is. The world’s gods
and pantheons each have their own, often conflicting, standards for human
conduct and virtue. Obviously, a person can’t follow them all. Moreover, many faiths state that a person’s
eternal welcome depends not on (or not solely on) virtue, but on whether that person welcomed and was devoted to God in his or her mortal life.
Considering all this, it seems clear that Aurelius’ first
premise, and thus his conclusion, are unsound, based on assumptions about the
character of the gods and Man’s understanding of “virtue.” Only in a few faiths (e.g. the Greco-Roman pantheon) would Aurelius’ gamble on
living a good life pay off in all potential outcomes. In others faiths, such as Christianity,
Judaism, and Islam (and others I don’t know well enough to include with
certainty), choosing to live a virtuous life without devotion to God is the
same as rejecting God and rejecting eternal safety.
Since all people must choose to worship something or nothing, I reckon a person gambles a lot if they
follow Aurelius’s advice. After death, should that person discover God is real and just and judges according to faith, that person would fail the test of following Him.
Thus, each person must consider and choose whom to worship (or not) wisely lest God does exist and He someday says to us, “Why
did you give up seeking me? Why did you
reject me? Now I must honor your
decision; you are not welcome in Heaven with me.”
It is daunting to think of examining the world’s many beliefs and
forms of unbelief—to determine whether any are plausible, and then whether the
most plausible one merits devoting a lifetime to it—devotion based on faith in something no human can
prove or disprove (empirically, at least).
Considering the stakes—eternity—surely it’s worth it to keep searching
for Truth our whole lives, not being satisfied with simply living "a good life." And if found, surely one should follow
the Truth to the Source and devote oneself to it.
Of course, my readers know from my previous posts that I believe
the Truth to be Jesus
Christ. I continue to examine that
faith and compare it with others, but none have persuaded me against Him. The most persuasive argument against Jesus
Christ is actually my own selfishness that doesn’t want to submit to any authority
but my own will, and that’s a foolishly short-sighed basis for a decision with
such potentially dire—or wonderful—consequences that will last for a literal eternity.