What is the solution to human angst and nothingness, the gnawing emptiness and frustration with the lim-its and fragility of this present existence? After reviewing the work of Sren Kierkegaard, Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, and Jean Paul Sartre on this question, this work argues that the proper re-sponse must be metaphysical metanarrative, a transcendent metaphysical metanarrative that is the ground of all that is, yet a metaphysical metanarrative that makes the fullness of meaning available and apprehen-sible in physical experience. This metanarrative, this work asserts, is the logos, the ultimate referent prin-ciple of the ancient Greeks and, according to Christianity, the God-man Jesus Christ, the eternal become present in present experience. Because the logos constitutes transcendence in human form, it recognizes the beauty of existential experience even as it underscores the necessity of transcendence for temporal meaning. The logos as metaphysical metanarrative brings the worlds of time and eternity together, link-ing earth and the beyond in a seamless whole. It is the ultimate existential experience.

This book is about memory, the power of memory, the weight of memory, the presence of memory. Its about how memory works, and its about how memory moves and shapes us, profoundly and deeply, every moment of every day. Most of all, however, its about how memory points us to some questions that, try as we might, we cannot elude altogether, questions that force us to confront the very nature of existence. Suppose that no one, no one at all, remembered us? Suppose that no one, no one at all, remembered the universe? How can we make sense of a world that one day will be utterly gone and forgotten? Memory makes us speak of things we may not want to accept or understand, thrusts us into things lying beyond what we can picture, imagine, or know. Twisting itself around our heart and burrowing into our soul, memory stretches us. It stretches us to ponder purpose, it stretches us to consider meaning. Memory forces us to think about how unbearably complex we, and this bewildering world, can be if nothing precedes or follows them. Memory opens our heart to God.

We all believe. Be it in love, God, Santa Claus, or the workings of an internal combustion engine, we all believe in something. After all, we're only human. Belief, however, is hardly black and white. It's one thing to believe in things we can see. It's quite another to believe in things we cannot. And another task altogether to trust in things we cannot see. Like God. Faith isn t easy. But it s us: we re finite beings. Faith recognizes our limits; it acknowledges life s ambiguity. And it counters these with its understanding of what is most true God. This book is a story about faith. It s a story of learning to trust in a supernatural God in a material world. It s a meditation on living with, as philosopher Soren Kierkegaard put it, objective uncertainty. It s a tale of learning to live with an invisible God.

What is the solution to human angst and nothingness, the gnawing emptiness and frustration with the lim-its and fragility of this present existence? After reviewing the work of Sren Kierkegaard, Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, and Jean Paul Sartre on this question, this work argues that the proper re-sponse must be metaphysical metanarrative, a transcendent metaphysical metanarrative that is the ground of all that is, yet a metaphysical metanarrative that makes the fullness of meaning available and apprehen-sible in physical experience. This metanarrative, this work asserts, is the logos, the ultimate referent prin-ciple of the ancient Greeks and, according to Christianity, the God-man Jesus Christ, the eternal become present in present experience. Because the logos constitutes transcendence in human form, it recognizes the beauty of existential experience even as it underscores the necessity of transcendence for temporal meaning. The logos as metaphysical metanarrative brings the worlds of time and eternity together, link-ing earth and the beyond in a seamless whole. It is the ultimate existential experience.

This book is about memory, the power of memory, the weight of memory, the presence of memory. Its about how memory works, and its about how memory moves and shapes us, profoundly and deeply, every moment of every day. Most of all, however, its about how memory points us to some questions that, try as we might, we cannot elude altogether, questions that force us to confront the very nature of existence. Suppose that no one, no one at all, remembered us? Suppose that no one, no one at all, remembered the universe? How can we make sense of a world that one day will be utterly gone and forgotten? Memory makes us speak of things we may not want to accept or understand, thrusts us into things lying beyond what we can picture, imagine, or know. Twisting itself around our heart and burrowing into our soul, memory stretches us. It stretches us to ponder purpose, it stretches us to consider meaning. Memory forces us to think about how unbearably complex we, and this bewildering world, can be if nothing precedes or follows them. Memory opens our heart to God.

We all believe. Be it in love, God, Santa Claus, or the workings of an internal combustion engine, we all believe in something. After all, we're only human. Belief, however, is hardly black and white. It's one thing to believe in things we can see. It's quite another to believe in things we cannot. And another task altogether to trust in things we cannot see. Like God. Faith isn t easy. But it s us: we re finite beings. Faith recognizes our limits; it acknowledges life s ambiguity. And it counters these with its understanding of what is most true God. This book is a story about faith. It s a story of learning to trust in a supernatural God in a material world. It s a meditation on living with, as philosopher Soren Kierkegaard put it, objective uncertainty. It s a tale of learning to live with an invisible God.