We’re like the people in the Twin Towers just before the planes hit. We can do nice things for others; we can enjoy good food and good books; we can even create meaning in our lives, but the moment will come all of this is gone from us—or rather us from it. We will then exist in the same way we existed before we were born, which is to say as matter and energy. I ate sardines tonight. They used to be little fishes; now they are me. Soon they will be something else. Such is our existence. The personal is transitory. The eternal is indifferent.

The universe is incredibly dark, incredibly cold, and infinitely uncaring. This I worship because it is nobler than an anthropomorphic deity such as the petulant and vindictive god of the Bible. Yet, I could happily partake of mass or communion because they are like the word god in that they have so many different meanings that they lack meaning. It’s not the object of worship that matters but the impulse to worship. I refer to worship that comes from the inability to not worship. In this, I find purity.