Christopher Hitchens, noted atheist and writer par excellence, has cancer.
“In whatever kind of a ‘race’ life may be, I have very abruptly become a finalist,” the ever-articulate Hitchens writes in the September issue of Vanity Fair. He concludes:
Against me is the blind, emotionless alien, cheered on by some who have long wished me ill. But on the side of my continued life is a group of brilliant and selfless physicians plus an astonishing number of prayer groups. On both of these I hope to write next time if—as my father invariably said—I am spared.
His essay is a mix of stoicism and dry British wit, but with an understated gravity that penetrates the gallows humor that marks his reflections. In truth, there is little said about facing death, but much about the “oncology bargain” that trades quality of life for quantity.
Let us pray that God is gracious and merciful to Mr. Hitchens.
Stand to Reason provides an insightful commentary regarding Mr. Hitchens “presumption of meaning” throughout the Vanity Fair article. It would seem that the weight of facing the prospect of death is challenging his ability to articulate life as an atheist. If you read between the lines it seems that the unreasonable livability of atheism is beginning to bleed through the life experience of Mr. Hitchens. It seems as if the thesis of his life in rejecting the notion of God is subtlety being rewritten. Mr. Hitchens is unwittingly embracing the premise that if God really does not exist than the issue of meaning and purpose find no legitimate moorings outside of ones own childish sentimentality. I pray that Mr. Hitchens journey toward fully embracing his Maker is a short one.