My academic interests revolve around domestic and international politics, while my field of work, my business, and my passion is acting in theatre, television drama, and film. Matters of God, the afterlife, and divine accountability don’t excite me at all—these subjects are neither on the list of my academic interests nor on the list of my professional passions.
at all—these subjects are neither on the list of my academic interests nor on the list of my professional passions. However, sheer necessity compels me to engage with these matters. One may ask, though, why the necessity?
Why do I exist? Why does everything exist? Was I deliberately created by someone with a specific purpose, or am I just a product of sheer luck—an accidental outcome of mindless processes? Is there a god or gods? Is there an afterlife, or is my material death my permanent end? Is there a Day of Judgment where I shall stand accountable for the life I lead in this world, or are these just fairy tales?
Why consider these questions to be important at all? For many of us, existential questions and their potential answers do not have any immediate real-world consequences. eem irrelevant in the face of more immediate concerns of daily life that consume most of our time and energy? In short, why bother about such matters when there is a whole life to be lived with all of its pleasures and pains, toils and gains? Why bother at all?
The most straightforward argument often made is that the simple fact that “I” exist—with all my emotional, intellectual, carnal, moral, and aesthetic faculties—set within this bizarre reality filled with its mind-boggling attributes, provides ample reason to seriously contem-plate the “Why” aspect of our existence. Moreover, since humans are composed of the same materials as everything else, and only we seem capable of pondering our origins and purpose, we effectively represent all of existence in our inquiry. We are the universe itself wondering about its origin and purpose. Adding irrefutable urgency to this inquiry is the reality that death could occur at any moment, leaving me with an unpredictably limited amount of time to contemplate “Why” do I exist?
But who cares? For me, all such rationale was never compelling enough to consider existential matters as anything more than occasional midnight fleeting thoughts. I was content to let others do this ponder-ing. I believed that deeply exploring existence was something reserved for scholars, thinkers, academics, and philosophers. As someone who does not fit into the above categories, I considered contemplating exis-tence unimportant amid the more engaging aspects of life. After all, life in this day and age has become unprecedentedly engaging in every way.
But gradually, by my late teens, I realized some very compelling reasons to ask such questions and concluded that choosing to be heed-less and oblivious toward existential questions and curiosities is by far the worst possible choice one can make. For me, the following reasons make addressing these questions a very serious matter of necessity for everyone—yes, everyone, with whatever time and effort they can in-vest—and it is in their own ultimate personal benefit no matter what answers one comes to agree with.
Prospects of Unimaginably Severe Consequences
Everyone, everywhere has heard about the idea of some form of divine judgment after death. Billions of people adhere to this belief today, and the notion of post-mortem divine judgment has existed in most – if not all – human societies throughout history, as far as we can tell from written records and orally transmitted stories of ancient peoples. I, too, have encountered this idea, and given the unimaginably profound im-plications of such a proposition, I felt compelled to seriously investigate this matter at least once in my life to determine if there is any truth to it. The possibilities of permanent bliss, pleasure, contentment, and happiness, or permanent regret, misery, and pain, are too intense to be ignored and not investigated thoroughly.
Two Potential Lives One Can Lead
A reasonably satisfying answer to the question of God and post-mor-tem divine accountability would define for me the true meaning of what it means to be “ultimately successful” and what it means to be an “ultimate failure.” Almost all the choices we make in our lives are, in one way or another, governed by how we define these two concepts. I realized very early in my life that there were two different potential lives I could lead, and I had to decide which one to choose. If the possibility that I will actually be held accountable for the life I lead in this world for a permanent result seems true, then it feels like obvious common sense and the most rational thing to do is to lead one’s life in a way that would ensure maximum success in that accountability, or at least ensure safety, to say the least. This kind of lifestyle may have some extremely uncomfortable requirements, like sacrificing some worldly benefits and maintaining an unpleasant level of control over one’s desires and instincts. On the other hand, if ideas like God and post-mortem divine accountability seem fictitious, then, for me, the only way to live a worldly life is to relentlessly pursue maximum success, pleasure, and fulfillment, regardless of the cost. It is valid to point out that many people lead happy and contented lives, seemingly in line with universal human morality, without delv-ing too deeply into existential questions. However, I believe this is an extremely risky approach. I question whether most of us can navigate life without encountering situations where we must choose between aligning with our inner morality, even if it entails some worldly loss, and making choices that benefit us but contradict our inner morality. These are the kinds of dilemmas I frequently faced as I grew older, because life kept presenting choices that, although they felt wrong according to my innate sense of morality, were the most beneficial in terms of immediate worldly outcomes, and vice versa. In such situations, having some understanding of the truth of divine accountability is crucial for making the best possible choices.
Mediocrity Is Not an Option
It might seem like I am taking life too seriously or behaving in an extreme manner, and yes, that is correct. I recommend that you do the same because we—you and I—have only one shot at this worldly life. Soon, death will come, and we will irreversibly and permanently cease to exist in this world. No matter how we live, our loved ones will eventually forget us, perhaps mentioning us only on occasion. If you are famous, you may be mentioned in the news once a year on your birth or death anniversary, but even that recognition will eventually fade away. The world will completely move on and forget about you. Within roughly a hundred years, you, me, our loved ones, and everyone alive today will be gone from this world forever. In the grander scheme of things, the universe as we know it will also ultimately come to an end. Therefore, for me, total and absolute death is inevitable. Given that I have only one shot at this worldly life, mediocrity is not—and should not be—an option.
In summary, the concept of divine accountability after death is a universal idea, marked by its potentially severe consequences. I believe that, for one’s ultimate benefit, it is crucial to dedicate time away from everyday duties of life — from the toils of economic survival and main-tenance of family, and other emotional/social bonds — to seriously contemplate this matter. It is incumbent upon everyone who is of sound mind to make an earnest effort to reach a reasonable conclusion on this issue as early as possible. Furthermore, it should be a lifelong endeavor to continually reassess the answers one finds and adjust life choices accordingly.
One last reason, which many may not find compelling—and rightly so, as it is more subjective in nature—is, for me, one of the most im-portant factors due to its emotional and ethical value.
Exploring the Identity of My ‘True Parent’
I believe that a profound inquiry into the existence of a personal God is a simple endeavor aimed at discovering my true creator—my mother before my earthly mother and my father before my earthly father. I ex-press this with no intention of diminishing the unfathomable emotional value, love, and sacrifice inherent in parental and family relationships. Instead, I am seeking to highlight that if my origin truly stems from a divine being who created me and oversees all aspects of my life—ob-serving and listening to me directly—then my primary relationship is with that being. All other relationships become secondary. Consider this: the family and friends I have, would not be part of my life if I had been born in another time and place. Thus, if a creator does indeed exist, one who fashioned me ex nihilo, then this is my only true relationship. All other relationships are created by the creator who placed me in this world at a specific time and place. Such a revelation carries profound emotional and ethical implications. All primary sentiments such as love, expectation, devotion, and loyalty should be directed foremost to this being, with all other loves, expectations, devotions, and loyalties remaining secondary. Ultimate gratitude for everything good is re-served for this being, while gratitude toward anyone else is secondary. Likewise, all ultimate expectations and hopes in times of difficulty and distress are directed toward this being, with expectations and hopes from others remaining secondary.