By aiming for paradise, we lose sight of earth. Hope of a beyond

“By aiming for paradise, we lose sight of earth. Hope of a beyond and aspiration to an afterlife engender a sense of futility in the present. If the prospect of getting taken up to paradise generates joy, it is the mindless joy of a baby picked up from his crib.” Thus wrote Michel Onfray, the French philosopher of rebellion and reason, whose voice calls humanity to awaken from the sleep of blind faith and to reclaim the sacredness of the world before our eyes. In this bold declaration, he does not speak as an enemy of hope, but as a defender of life itself. He warns that in dreaming too much of the heavens, man forgets the soil beneath his feet; that in yearning for eternity, he neglects the miracle of the moment.

Onfray’s words were born in the modern age, yet they echo with the gravity of ancient wisdom. He stands in the lineage of those who have challenged the lure of otherworldly promises — philosophers like Epicurus, who taught that peace of mind is found not in divine reward, but in harmony with the natural world. In saying that the hope of paradise breeds futility, Onfray does not condemn spirituality, but the abdication of responsibility that often accompanies it. When men believe that true happiness lies only beyond death, they turn away from the suffering and beauty that live here, in this breath, in this heartbeat. He reminds us that to fix our eyes too long upon eternity is to become blind to the holiness of the present moment.

This teaching is not new. The Buddha, too, spoke against attachment to distant illusions, urging his disciples to dwell in mindful awareness, for enlightenment is not found in the stars, but in the clarity of each step taken upon the earth. Onfray’s “paradise” is not only the religious heaven — it is every dream of escape that draws us away from the task of living. It is the fantasy that there is meaning waiting elsewhere, while we ignore the meaning that could be created here. The philosopher’s warning is fierce because the temptation is ancient: man forever seeks the eternal while trampling the eternal that lives in every sunrise, every act of kindness, every fleeting breath.

Consider, my child, the fate of the Crusaders, who once marched beneath the cross to reclaim the “Holy Land.” Believing their path led to divine salvation, they spilled rivers of blood upon the soil they called sacred. Their eyes, fixed on heaven, could no longer see the suffering before them. They believed they were building paradise — yet they burned the world in their attempt to reach it. Onfray’s words expose this same blindness in all ages: when the promise of the beyond becomes more precious than the world itself, compassion fades, and the earth becomes merely a stage for salvation, not a home to be cherished.

Yet Onfray’s message is not despair — it is awakening. He calls us to reclaim our joy, not as the “mindless joy of a baby picked up from his crib,” but as the conscious joy of a human being who recognizes the sacred in the tangible. The earth itself is our paradise, if only we learn to see it. The laughter of a friend, the taste of bread, the touch of sunlight on one’s face — these are not fragments of paradise, they are paradise itself, made manifest in the now. The philosopher urges us to stop waiting for the divine to descend, and instead to build divinity here, in the realm of love, creativity, and action.

In every era, there have been those who mistook hope for surrender — who prayed for miracles while refusing to become one. But there have also been those who embodied Onfray’s vision: men and women who saw eternity reflected in the smallest acts of humanity. Consider Mother Teresa, who did not seek heaven in solitude, but in the faces of the dying poor. To her, each person was not a stepping stone to paradise, but a fragment of the divine deserving of compassion in this life. Though her theology differs from Onfray’s philosophy, her practice embodies his wisdom: that true faith — or true philosophy — is to serve life, not to escape it.

So, my child, heed the teaching: do not live for paradise, live for the earth. Let your hope not be for reward, but for creation. Let your joy not be that of a child lifted blindly toward comfort, but that of a soul standing upright, awake, and aware. Tend to this world as your garden, for no heaven will bloom from neglect. Make peace with mortality, for the fleeting nature of life is what makes every moment precious. Paradise is not beyond — it is within.

And when you walk through your days, remember Onfray’s call: that the measure of a life is not the promise of the afterlife, but the light one leaves upon the living world. Love deeply, act justly, build beauty where you stand. For to honor the earth, to cherish the present, to make meaning in the here and now — that is to touch eternity without ever leaving the ground.