Life is absurd.
The world doesn’t hand us meaning. It just exists. Chaotic, unfair, often cruel. Suffering piles on suffering. Joy feels fragile, fleeting. If you’re honest, none of it adds up to a cosmic plan we can see.
Absurdism says: don’t look away. Don’t pretend work, politics, or legacy will rescue you. Face the absurd head-on. Carry your stone like Sisyphus, and laugh in the struggle.
I agree. But I also believe.
I believe in God. Not because the evidence is overwhelming. Not because a church told me to. I believe because I refuse to accept that the absurd is all there is. My faith is not a tidy answer, it’s a leap into the unknown. If Camus teaches me to live without guarantees, Christianity gives me the courage to hope anyway.
I imagine Sisyphus carrying his stone alongside Christ carrying the cross. Both labors are absurd. Both refuse surrender. Both affirm dignity in the face of despair.
For me, rebellion is faith. To resist capitalism, empire, oppression, and cruelty is a form of worship. It’s saying: “Even in absurdity, there is dignity.” That rebellion is how I live.
But my hope is what sustains me. Absurdism tells me life has no built-in meaning. Christianity lets me trust that, beyond the absurd, there is grace. I don’t need certainty—faith is enough.
I live like Camus. I believe like Kierkegaard. And I refuse to bow to either despair or empire.
Sisyphus Shrugged 