Words From the Past to Inspire Us Into the Future
The video below is Charlie Chaplin giving the final speech in a movie called The Great Dictator, produced over seventy years ago. I watched it recently and was amazed at how much things haven’t changed in seven decades.
I originally posted this clip on Facebook, but something about it inspired me as few things do. I am not an activist, rarely outspoken against the governments of the world, my universe is generally more self-contained. But sometimes an external element triggers a vision within me, a belief in what mankind can truly achieve if properly motivated, and this clip did exactly that. Cynicism fills us at times, and we are often led to believe all is lost, but I hold hope for humanity, that before the finale there will be a revelation of spirit such as has never been seen before.
I’m not talking about religion, though its focal points are generally aimed in the right direction. Rather I am arguing that man will eventually do what’s right for no other reason than it is right. Selfishness will be cast aside and the greed of many will be overwhelmed by the need to do good in the face of all adversity.
Perhaps I am naive. There’s no way mankind could do something of such magnitude when self-indulgence is so embedded into our civilization, when a larger television is more important than the life of a child. And yet the fact a man who portrayed such a bumbling fool throughout his many screen roles could deliver such a blisteringly powerful speech of hope makes me remember what people are capable of, and my faith blooms again.
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Religion
It gives hope when all hope is gone; faith in a celestial force which will protect and guide you through life and even beyond it, making mortals more than mortal, enabling some to endure the fear of breathing without purpose.
There will be something better.
There must be.
Life sucks so terribly at times the need for something beyond menial becomes more than just a wish, it becomes an absolute necessity. The question of why we are here has echoed through the halls of time as mankind has fumbled its way from rock drawings to nuclear physics and space travel – and yet we are no closer to an answer now than we were back then. In an infinite universe we are a mere speck of dust floating upon a larger speck of dust around a ball of flame which would seem microscopic in comparison to the space which surrounds it, and yet we flatter ourselves that we are knowledgeable.
Yeah. Sure.
Just as the men of old were certain in their knowledge that the world was flat and the sun was a god called Ra, so people of now proclaim there is nothing out there and we are alone in our intelligence. They do this to avoid the inevitability of reality in that we are individually insignificant, each life meaning less than nothing to a universe which will never notice the passing of man.
But God loves us.
So they say. The preachers cry His name to the heavens, cowering within the walls of a building they call His house while beyond it they avoid the touch of those fallen beneath what is considered humanity: the poor, the addicted, the sick. The infirm flood the streets and plains of our planet while the coffers fill and the preachers drive in gilded chariots shouting praise to a being they do not know and hardly care for as they condemn the lives of those they don’t agree with. The ignorant flock to these fools and hide behind their words, hoping that by doing so they will be saved for not caring about the world which surrounds them. The powerful proclaim war in His name in hopes the ignorant will follow blindly, throwing away their lives as their leaders cower and screen themselves from harm. We destroy this Eden we were given, blindly poisoning the air, water and land with our waste and ignorance, and instead of funding its healing we use money to create weapons and instruments to kill and maim.
Why would a God love creatures like us?
The answer lies in a baby’s smile as it looks to those who gave it life, in the mother’s grief as she fears for the safety of that child going away to a war that makes no sense, at the father’s tears upon burying his son killed and chalked up as a statistic. It lies in the stranger offering a hand of hope to those fallen from society, in the life given freely in the hopes others will live better, in the trials and failures of individuals fighting to protect Eden from demise.
It resides in hope.
The existence of God is a focal point for that hope, something for people to draw upon in order to do what’s right, and only those seeking to hide behind his name and hunt redemption for not caring would claim otherwise. Hope exists while one person knows love and shares it with another. In this way humanity matters to the universe that might still not recognize it, but those affected will know, and that is a universe unto itself – a universe of caring. Most religions are founded upon this premise, regardless of any disparities with other faiths; they are based on caring for others when you do not need to, on doing what is right when the right thing is difficult, on avoiding the selfishness this world has to offer and focusing everything on something beyond the self. The teachings might lie in a book, but the reality remains in the hands of those who hear the words.
I do not know if God exists, but I would like to think so. I call on him at times and it would be nice to think he answers me in His own way, though at times my requests seemingly echo out into nothing. It is at times like these I remember that nothing given freely is of great worth and only a person without hope is helpless. I have hope, and I have faith, both in myself and in a God which may or may not exist. To look at the atrocities provided by the world we live in and turn away from hope would be easy, but to remember that baby’s smile and know it is being repeated around the world every moment of every day makes me faithful that hope will survive.
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