The Darkest Hour of the Soul

A dialogue between a priest and a skeptic

Part One: The Old Testament Debate

Setting:

A dimly lit church hall. Wooden pews cast long shadows. Pastor Daniel, a firm believer, sits across from Ethan, a former Christian turned skeptic. Between them, a well-worn Bible rests on the table. The air is heavy with tension.

Pastor Daniel:
“Ethan, you were once one of us. What changed?”

Ethan:
“I stopped ignoring contradictions. I stopped excusing the inexcusable.”

Pastor Daniel:
“Or maybe you stopped trying to understand God’s ways.”

Ethan:
“Or maybe God’s ways don’t make sense. Let’s start simple. You believe God is perfectly good?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Absolutely.”

Ethan:
“Then explain why He orders genocide. 1 Samuel 15:3—‘Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy everything that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.’ God commanded the slaughter of children, Daniel.”

Pastor Daniel:
“You take that out of context. The Amalekites were an evil people who had warred against Israel for generations. God was ensuring their wickedness wouldn’t continue.”

Ethan:
“Killing infants to prevent future sin? That’s like executing babies today because their parents are criminals.”

Pastor Daniel:
“No, it’s divine justice. God sees the full picture. He knew that if the Amalekites survived, their evil would corrupt future generations.”

Ethan:
“Then why didn’t an all-powerful God change their hearts instead of killing them? Why use mass slaughter?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God’s justice is beyond human comprehension.”

Ethan:
“Convenient answer. What about Noah’s flood? Did it happen?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Yes, as an act of judgment against a corrupt world.”

Ethan:
“Except that flood stories existed before the Bible. The Epic of Gilgamesh tells almost the same story—written centuries earlier. Why does God’s ‘true story’ look like a copy?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Or maybe Gilgamesh is a corrupted retelling of a real flood event.”

Ethan:
“Then why does the biblical version sound less plausible? A wooden boat holding millions of species? Eight people repopulating the Earth? And worst of all—God drowns newborns because adults were sinful?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God must judge sin, Ethan.”

Ethan:
“Then He failed. If the flood wiped out evil, why did sin return immediately?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Because man has free will.”

Ethan:
“Then what was the point? Genesis says the world was created in six days. Do you take that literally?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Yes. God spoke, and it was.”

Ethan:
“Then why does science tell us the Earth is billions of years old? Why do we have fossils proving gradual evolution?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Because scientists rely on human reasoning, which is fallible. God’s word is infallible.”

Ethan:
“So every scientist—astronomers, geologists, geneticists—they’re all wrong, and a book written by Bronze Age nomads is right?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Yes. Because human knowledge changes. God’s truth does not.”

Ethan:
“Then why do Christians accept science when it gives them modern medicine but reject it when it contradicts Genesis?”

Pastor Daniel:
“…Because not all science is corrupt, but evolution and deep time are direct attacks on God’s word.”

Ethan:
“Let’s assume God is real. Why did He remain silent for most of human history? Why only reveal Himself to one Middle Eastern tribe?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God chose Israel to be a light to the nations.”

Ethan:
“Then why did other nations never hear from Him? Why no Bible for the Chinese, the Mayans, the Native Americans?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God’s plan unfolded over time. That’s why Christ came later—to bring salvation to all.”

Ethan:
“But why wait thousands of years? If God loves us, why let millions of people live and die without ever hearing His message?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God’s ways are higher than ours.”

Ethan:
“That’s not an answer, Daniel. That’s an escape hatch.” (Leaning forward.) “You’ve defended genocide, global extermination, scientific errors, and divine favoritism—all by saying, ‘We can’t understand God.’ But if His morality doesn’t make sense to us, how do we even know it’s good?”

Pastor Daniel:
(Firm.) “Because He is God. He defines good.”

Ethan:
“Even when His actions look evil?”

Pastor Daniel:
“Especially then. Our understanding is limited. Faith means trusting Him anyway.”

Ethan:
(Scoffs.) “That’s not faith. That’s surrendering your ability to think.”

(Tension fills the air. Ethan leans back, unsatisfied. Pastor Daniel remains unshaken—for now.)

Part Two – The Resurrection, Hell, and the Nature of Jesus

Ethan:
“Let’s talk about the resurrection for a second. Have you ever considered that maybe it’s just a myth? I mean, when you really look at it—there’s something strange about the Gospels. The accounts contradict each other on some key points. The timing, who saw Jesus first, how many angels appeared—there's no consistency. How do you reconcile that with the idea of it being a historical fact?”

Pastor Daniel:
“But the core truth of the resurrection is clear. The disciples believed it, and their lives were changed. That has to count for something.”

Ethan:
“Sure, but that doesn’t explain why they believed it. These kinds of stories, these ‘resurrections,’ are found all over the ancient world—Osiris, Mithras, Dionysus. All these dying-and-rising gods predate Jesus by centuries. How do we know the story of Jesus isn’t just another example of that myth-making tradition?”

Pastor Daniel:
“You’re trying to compare Jesus to other mythologies, but that’s just superficial. This isn’t the same thing. The disciples saw the resurrected Jesus. He was alive, and they knew it.”

Ethan:
“But Paul’s version of the resurrection, in 1 Corinthians 15, is suspiciously lacking in details. He talks about Jesus appearing to 500 people, but none of them are named. He doesn’t mention the empty tomb, or women as witnesses—those elements only show up in the Gospels, which were written decades later. Doesn’t that raise some doubts about the authenticity of the story?”

Pastor Daniel:
“You’re dismissing the accounts too easily. The Gospels were written by people who believed with all their hearts that they saw Jesus alive again.”

Ethan:
“It’s possible, sure. But isn’t it also possible that the story evolved over time? The Gospels weren’t written in a vacuum. They were written decades after the events they describe, after oral traditions had passed the story around. They’re part of a larger tradition of legendary development. You don’t think that could have happened here?”

Pastor Daniel:
“But if the resurrection was a myth, why would the Gospel writers include embarrassing details? The women, for example, are the first witnesses to the resurrection—yet women were considered unreliable witnesses at that time. That’s not something you’d make up if you were trying to fabricate a story.”

Ethan:
“Fair point. But let’s look at another problem—why isn’t Lazarus, the guy Jesus resurrected, worshipped as a god? If rising from the dead proves divinity, wouldn’t Lazarus deserve to be considered divine too? And yet, no one worships him. Isn’t that strange?”

Pastor Daniel:
“But Lazarus didn’t rise with the same power and significance that Jesus did. Jesus’ resurrection was different—it was a victory over death itself. It was proof of His divinity.”

Ethan:
“Then why do we have conflicting accounts of His resurrection? Why do we have contradictions in the Gospels? Maybe it’s not about divinity. Maybe it's just a story that people needed to believe, because it gave them hope.”

Pastor Daniel:
“But that doesn’t explain why the disciples would die for a lie. They suffered persecution because they believed it to be true. That kind of conviction doesn’t come from a myth.”

Ethan:
“Or maybe their convictions came from the power of the story itself. People are capable of dying for what they believe, even if it's not the truth. Think about it—if the resurrection was so central to the faith, why is it that Paul, in his early letters, doesn’t even mention an empty tomb or women as witnesses? Why is the physical resurrection only mentioned later in the Gospels?”

Pastor Daniel:
“That’s… not something I’ve really considered. But still, the resurrection is the cornerstone of the Christian faith. Without it, there’s no Christianity.”

Ethan:
“Let’s talk about hell, then. I don’t see how it makes sense for a loving, omnipotent God to send people to eternal torment. People who haven’t even heard of Jesus. People who were born into the wrong time or place, with no chance to hear the gospel. How can that be just?”

Pastor Daniel:
“But God is just. He gives everyone a chance. Those who reject Him are choosing their own fate.”

Ethan:
“But it’s not fair, Daniel. What about those people who live their whole lives in isolated tribes, never hearing of Jesus? Are they condemned to eternal punishment just because they were born in the wrong place? That’s not justice—it’s cruelty.”

Pastor Daniel:
“God’s judgment is perfect. He knows what’s best.”

Ethan:
“Is it really perfect to condemn someone to eternal suffering for a finite sin? I mean, even the worst dictators in history don’t burn people alive for their mistakes for infinity. God supposedly does. Is that the kind of justice you can accept?”

Pastor Daniel:
“God is God. We can’t understand His ways. He’s perfect, and His judgment is beyond our comprehension.”

Ethan:
“But if God is all-powerful, couldn’t He create a world where people could freely choose good without eternal punishment? If He’s really omnipotent, He could make a system where evil doesn’t require infinite suffering as a consequence.”

Pastor Daniel:
“But people still have free will, and they make choices.”

Ethan:
“But free will isn’t the same thing as eternal punishment. If your father burned you alive for disobeying him, we’d all agree that’s monstrous, right? So why is it different when God does it? Daniel, tell me, why do you believe all this? Really. Why do you believe?”

Pastor Daniel:
“I—I just do. I’ve always believed. It’s what I was taught. It’s the foundation of my life.”

Ethan:
“But that’s not an answer. That’s fear. You’ve been holding onto this because it’s what you’ve been told. But if you really step back and look at it all—the contradictions, the cruelty, the myths—you’ve been ignoring a lot of difficult questions, haven’t you?”

Pastor Daniel:
“I—I guess I have.”
(pauses, clearly struggling)
“But if I let go of this… what do I have left?”

Ethan:
“You have the truth. You have the freedom to think for yourself, to make sense of the world without having to force it into a box that doesn’t fit. You can embrace the unknown without fearing that it will destroy everything you’ve ever known.”

Pastor Daniel:
(hesitating, his confidence shaking)
“But if I give this up… what does that mean for everything I’ve preached? What does that mean for my whole life?”

Ethan:
“It means you start living honestly. It means you confront the world as it is, not as you wish it to be. The truth isn’t afraid of being questioned. It doesn’t need to be protected by lies or fear.”

(Daniel sits in silence, clearly torn, the weight of his beliefs pressing down on him.)


Part Three – The Nature of God, the Question of Faith, and the Breaking Point

Ethan:
“You’re struggling, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes, Daniel. All this time, you’ve been holding on to something. Something that gave you meaning, something that made the world make sense. But now? Now it’s all starting to unravel, and it’s terrifying, isn’t it? You’ve spent so much of your life invested in this idea of God, of salvation, and now you can’t even trust it. You can’t trust the very foundation of your purpose.”

Pastor Daniel:
(His voice cracks, but he tries to stay composed.)
“I’ve been preaching for years... for years about God’s love, about salvation, about hell, and heaven, and... and now? Now, I don’t know if any of it makes sense anymore. I... I’ve been teaching people that faith is the answer. And maybe it was... for them. Maybe it was for me. But I’m not so sure anymore.”

Ethan:
“And that’s okay. The truth isn’t afraid of being questioned. But your faith, your beliefs—are you sure they’re based on truth, or are they just a crutch? Something to help you avoid facing the harder questions?”

Pastor Daniel:
(Looking away, his hands clenched.)
“I always thought it was about trust. Trusting that God’s plan is bigger than us. But now… What if it’s all just human creation? What if everything I’ve been telling people, every sermon, every scripture reading—what if it’s all just a story? A myth we tell ourselves to feel safe?”

Ethan:
“What if it is? I’m not here to destroy you, Daniel. I’m here to help you see that freedom exists outside of those constraints. And I know it’s scary. But you’ve built your life around something that isn’t real. And now that’s starting to sink in, you’re left with a choice: hold on to the lie, or walk into the unknown, where truth is waiting for you.”

Pastor Daniel:
(He looks haunted, his voice low, almost whispering.)
“But what does that even mean? If I let go of God, of the Bible, of all the things that have shaped who I am... who am I? What happens to me then?”

Ethan:
“You become who you were always meant to be. Someone who lives honestly. Someone who no longer needs to hide behind the comfort of false certainty.”

(A heavy silence fills the air. Daniel is visibly agitated, almost pacing, as if trying to escape the weight of his thoughts.)

Pastor Daniel:
“I’ve spent my entire life believing in a God who would punish people for eternity. A God who’d condemn souls to hell. How can I reconcile that with the love I thought He had? How can I still preach that and not feel... responsible for leading people astray? For believing in something that might not be true?”

Ethan:
“You don’t have to carry the weight of that, Daniel. You’re not responsible for the lies of others, and you’re certainly not responsible for a system that uses fear and manipulation to control people. What you’re responsible for is your own search for truth. And your honesty. If you tell them the truth, they’ll see you, and they’ll understand. The ones who are meant to follow will follow, and those who need to stay where they are... that’s their journey. Not yours.”

(Daniel stops pacing and faces Ethan, his voice rising in desperation.)

Pastor Daniel:
“But what if they leave? What if my whole life—my whole purpose—ends in me walking away from them? How do I live with that?”

Ethan:
“By understanding that you were never truly meant to lead people based on a lie. You lead them by being real. You don’t owe them false assurances. You owe them truth. If they leave you for questioning, then maybe they were never truly following you to begin with. And that’s not your fault. That’s their choice.”

Pastor Daniel:
(His eyes brim with unshed tears as he sits, defeated, in a chair.)
“I’ve led so many people to believe in things that I don’t even believe in anymore. How do I undo all that? How do I face them and say, ‘I was wrong’? I can’t do that, Ethan. I can’t destroy their faith, too. I’ve worked so hard to build this church, this community... I can’t tear it down.”

Ethan:
(His voice softens, more compassionate now.)
“You don’t have to destroy it. You just have to stop pretending. Tell them your truth, and let them decide for themselves. If your community is truly built on love and connection, they’ll stay. And if they don’t, then maybe you were never meant to be their leader. It’s about finding peace with your own humanity, Daniel. You’re not a God. You don’t have to hold the world together. You only need to be real.”

Pastor Daniel:
(He exhales deeply, his voice a mix of fear and realization.)
“I... I don’t know who I am without it. Without this... faith. Without the certainty. Maybe I’ve been lying to myself all this time, too.”

Ethan:
“And that’s okay. That’s the first step. You’re free now, Daniel. Free to find the truth without the chains of someone else’s story. Free to be you—whoever that is.”

(The silence between them is heavy, but for the first time, there is a glimmer of hope in Daniel’s eyes. He stands, his mind still wrestling, but he feels the burden lifting just a little.)

Pastor Daniel:
(Looking out into the distance, contemplative.)
“Maybe I’ve been holding on to a version of God that wasn’t real... Maybe it’s time to find out what’s really out there. Not just for me, but for everyone else too.”

Ethan:
“And you’ll find peace in that. I believe it.”