Every willing agent must wager their existence—their entire soul—on something.

Since every man is necessarily all in, the true test of character lies not in how much one wagers, but in what one dares to stake everything upon.

The enlightened, rational, self-interested Christian wagers that it is better to forfeit this life for the next—or worse still, he trembles not out of hope, but at the terror of the hereafter should he refuse the wager.

And in denying this life, what can one expect if not a soul-gnawing nihilism? In most cases, nihilism is the byproduct of excess liberty without orientation. And yet, our Christian is both a whipped slave—and nihilistic.

Indeed, what is hell if not the anchoring of a soul to an abyss of meaningless suffering?

In dark places, it is not plants or weeds that grow, but fungi that decompose the soul. Along my journey, I’ve encountered countless fungi-covered Christians—those who, through rational compartmentalization, embrace the redemption of the resurrection while quietly freeing themselves from the demands of the rest of their holy book. In trading a life-denying creed for aimless freedom, the fungi-covered Christian merely traverses from one abyss to another.

The fate of every worthy Christian is this: that one day, a light-bearing specter shall rise from the abyss with an outstretched hand.

One must have the courage to lose their faith in order to find it. Truthfully, if one recoils in fear when faced with the prospect of losing their faith, they have already lost it.