#MonthOfMinistry Day 15
This is such a tricky word!
I’ve always struggled with the idea of “god” as some sort of separate and powerful being who maybe created the world; who maybe judges whether we’ve done the right things in life and rewards or punishes us accordingly. Even if such a being made sense to me, I don’t think she/he/it is the sort of being I’d want to show allegiance to. As the Russian anarchist Michael Bakunin once put it: “If God existed, it would be necessary to abolish him”.
So what does it mean to call myself an “interfaith minister” or a Quaker, or to post about matters of “spirituality”, if I don’t believe in this kind of god? I don’t usually call myself an atheist – I prefer the word “nontheist”. By that I mean that I don’t find the idea of a separate deity with power over our lives at all helpful, but I do believe that there is “a force of love that runs through the universe” (as Julian of Norwich put it). Quakers might talk about the Light within each of us. Buddhists might talk of Śunyata or emptiness. Thich Nhat Hahn talks about “interbeing”. All of these, I think, are pointers towards our deep connection with each other and the more than human world, a connection that’s beyond words. The word “god” can point there too, but often it’s so overloaded with other meanings that it becomes less than helpful.
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well…for there is a force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.
Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, written around 1373
Of course many people do find the idea of a separate theistic god very helpful: a source of inspiration and courage, a comfort in times of distress, a bond of social cohesion.
The other thing I’d say is that our ideas of god are very much a social construct, and vary very much across different societies. That doesn’t mean they don’t have deep meaning and value, just that they are a product of our human creativity. An experience of a human-made god can still be profound. I was struck by something Starhawk wrote recently:
One of my most profound spiritual experiences came to me when I was only twelve years old, in synagogue preparing for my Bat Mitzvah. As the congregation sang together, I suddenly had a sense that our united voices were literally creating God as we sang. I felt the power of togetherness that arises when we sing together, linked not just by rhythm and breath but also by melody, harmony and the emotional power of song.
Let me know what you think? What is your experience (or not) of god?
Sistine Chapel photo: Leo Reynolds