The Final Question

Let me think about this for a second.
What do I actually want from a God?

Not what someone else told me.
Not what a religion said I should want.
But honestly — what do I want from a God?

The Axioms of Divine Integrity

I guess if I had to boil it down, the first thing I'd want — no question — is this:

I mean, come on — death is the one force everything in the universe eventually submits to. On a long enough timeline, everything dies. People. Stars. Ideas. Planets. Civilizations.

So if a being doesn't defeat death — I don't care how powerful, wise, or cosmic they are — they're not God. Period. They might be a king. They might be a force. But they're not God.

Second?

And I don't mean the way we talk about "good" on Twitter or politics or Sunday school.
I mean actually good — in motive, in mind, in soul. A being that isn't just behaviorally clean, but morally incorruptible.

Not the kind of "good" that says, "I didn't cheat" — but lives in a fantasy of pornography.
Not "I never killed anyone" — but slanders and poisons everyone with their tongue.
Not "I go to church" — but manipulates behind closed doors.

Nah — if we're talking about a God, then I want one that doesn't just do good things — He is good.

That's the bar.

What God Fits That?

So now I've got my two qualifiers:

• He has to defeat death.
• He has to be morally perfect.

I start looking around.

Is there anyone — in all of history, legend, religion, science, or myth — that checks those two boxes?

Only one ever claimed both.

Jesus Christ.

And the thing is… He didn't just say it.
He lived it. He died by it. And if the records hold, He rose to prove it.

He didn't leave it up to poetry. He fulfilled prophecy. He didn't rule through fear — He took the punishment Himself. He didn't dodge suffering — He drank the entire cup.

He overcame death.
And He lived goodness — the kind of goodness that offends sinners and heals them in the same breath.

What Happens If I Reject Him?

Now here's where it gets uncomfortable.

If I say no to that God — what does that say about me?

It doesn't make Jesus less God.
It makes me someone who wants to stay god of my own life.

And that makes me realize something brutal but true:

If I don't want the God who defeats death and defines goodness —
Then by default, I want a god that allows sin, death, and compromise.

And whether I name it or not — the Bible already has a name for that.

Satan.

I know, that sounds harsh.
But it's not a cartoon devil I'm talking about.
It's the reality behind rebellion. It's the justification I cling to in order to stay the same.

He doesn't need me to worship him.
He just needs me to keep making excuses.

The Mirror of the Bible

Here's the other realization:

The Bible — when tested against information theory, prophecy, semantic coherence, and symbolic logic — is the most verified truth source we've got on Earth. Not perfect in the way people are used to thinking. But in a rigorous, objective sense? Nothing else comes close.

So if that's my measuring stick…

Then rejecting the God it presents isn't just a philosophical move.
It's a moral one.
It's a rejection of truth — in favor of whatever narrative lets me off the hook.