Vachon Imagined

There is a tension between absolutism and philosophy, between what is strictly logical and what resists logic. It is important for a person to recognize when they are operating in each realm.

If you imagine your own house as part of a larger house, this becomes a metaphor for the relationship between human and God. Within that shared structure live both suffering and atonement. They coexist under one roof, yet it is not a house in any ordinary sense. It extends beyond familiar boundaries and even seems to bleed into oblivion. This is what makes humans deeply uncomfortable—so much so that we construct symbols and statues that mean one thing to one person and something entirely different to another.

The friction between these interpretations is where reality becomes most intense. It is where experience collides and combusts. Neither side is necessarily wrong, but each may become inappropriate depending on context and the viewer’s perspective.

We learn certain absolutes early on: 2 + 2 = 4. These certainties allow us to build shared systems of understanding and develop technologies that take us into space. But absolutism does not end there. It is a tool for the finite; it enables communication and structure. Yet when it is overextended, it can fracture understanding and even contribute to conflict and war.

We are living in that fracture now, which makes it all the more urgent to recognize when to release the confines of our private house and dwell, instead, in something larger—something that no strict absolutist can fully name, and no philosopher can entirely contain.

And yet it is there.

From it all things arise and to it all things return.

It is the ground from which we are shaped, and the place where we are renewed.