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What’s happening in the whole world?”
This was the quiet question a man asked as we sat watching yet another news report filled with pain.
Wars. Killings. Chaos. Destruction. In every corner of the globe—some of it loud, televised, and horrifying; much of it silent, unseen, and unspeakable.
He didn’t ask it like a reporter. He asked it like a human being, tired. Confused. Broken-hearted.
“Is this what good education has led us to?” he continued.
“Are we now so ‘civilized’ that we’ve outgrown even God?”
And honestly… what do you say to that?
We’ve built satellites, mapped DNA, written philosophies, passed laws, and founded institutions meant to promote human dignity. But still, bombs fall. Still, children die. Still, hatred grows in educated hearts. Still, people kill not for survival, but for ideas, for pride, or simply because they can.
So what is civilization, really?
If education only teaches us how to make weapons smarter, but not hearts softer… is it really wisdom?
If progress only means building stronger towers while ignoring the homeless at their feet… is it really growth?
If we are so proud of our intellect that we silence the idea of God, morality, and grace… are we truly advanced, or just arrogantly lost?
The man wasn’t judging. He was mourning.
Mourning what the world has become.
Mourning what we’ve lost—maybe not just faith in God, but faith in goodness itself.
We claim we’re more advanced than ancient civilizations. But maybe they feared the heavens more than we do.
Maybe they were more in touch with something we’ve traded for algorithms and influence.
No, this post doesn’t have a neat answer.
But it ends with a hope:
That maybe, asking these questions out loud is where healing begins.
That maybe, just maybe, we haven't outgrown the need for humility, for soul, for compassion.
That maybe civilization isn't about how much we know, but how much we care.