What's the point when we all die in the end?
Why work to heal someone? I can't make anyone immortal.
Why work to better myself? We all end up dead.
Why save us? Why become human, die a shameful death, for people who don't care?
Because...little differences can add up.
Because...I am not omniscient. You are, supposedly.
What is the point when it seems that so much of what we call Holy has been made up whole cloth by humanity. I think we as a people have seen and heard and smelled and tasted and touched the divine, but have felt the need to possess it and categorize it and weaponize it and turn it into something ugly. Now what we think is Holy is just an idol.
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