Space is big. Really big. If we suppose there is a God at all, it’s hubris to imagine terrestrial life is central to a divine funtion, let alone the human ape, let alone one faction of human society.

We are moss on a sequoia tree in California while the chosen people are weasels in Mecklenburg.

At worst, we’re insignificant, and at best we are the roaches in God’s card reader causing errors by crawling around.