It isn’t wrong to question and analyze our worldviews. It’s appropriate since worldviews frame our lives. We don’t go into a marriage without questioning whether or not it’d be a good idea with such-&-such a person (unless, of course, you go to bible college). We feel things out by dating, we come to our conclusions with a (hopefully) humble confidence, and if we are convinced that it’s a good idea, we go ahead and get married. Sure, sometimes we may find ourselves less confident as the journey unravels, often spawning divorce or separation or a miserable stuck-in-a-rut existence; but as with marriages it is with worldviews: when disillusionment or disenchantment comes along, it’s wise to question the validity of the worldview and work from there. This doesn’t mean being rash and leaping for divorce, but it at the least means talking things through and trying to get a better angle on the situation; there may very well be some fine-tuning needed in the marriage, not a hasty rejection of it.
There are many lessons in this, not least, If we’re willing to invest so much time, energy, and money into something so life-changing as marriage, why not likewise invest our time and energies into ascertaining not only our worldview but its legitimacy?
Like it is in marriage, we may become less confident about our decision as we gather more information about the person and new experiences within that marriage; we may come to the point of saying either, “To hell with it,” and just going along miserable and disenchanted because, well, this is what you’ve got and it’s too late to change it now; or we may “divorce” ourselves from the worldview, and put in its place something different. But second marriages aren’t necessarily better than the first, and third marriages aren’t intrinsically better than the second. The evolution of our worldview into different stages doesn’t imply that our current worldview is by necessity any better than those preceding it. The ultimate aim, of course, in marriage as well as with worldviews, is finding something that works, and in the best way possible. But how do we know something works? Does it “work” if it’s something we enjoy? Does it “work” if it makes sense of the world around us? Does it “work” if it gives us hope and comfort and purpose? Does it “work” if it promotes goodness in the world? What is it that makes a worldview work in the best possible way? The answer, I believe, remains truth ("Is it real? Or just some elaborate hoax or fantasy?"); but as to how we ascertain this truth, there remains that cold and milky fog hung like a veil over our eyes.
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