CHILDREN OF GOD

      Once upon a time, a medieval philosopher/theologian by the name of St. Anselm made the claim that God was “that, the greater than which cannot be conceived,” which was essentially his way of saying that God is the biggest idea that human beings have ever come up with.
     If true, it is no wonder that so many people spend so much time talking about it. You can’t blame them. Who doesn’t want to talk about the biggest idea ever contrived? In his massive book, The Great Ideas: A Lexicon of Western Thought, a list of essays written for the Great Books of the Western World, Mortimer Adler (in the chapter entitled “God”) suggests,

      With the exception of certain mathematicians and physicists, almost all the authors of the great books are represented in this chapter. In sheer quantity of references, as well as in variety, it is the largest chapter. The reason is obvious. More consequences for thought and action follow from the affirmation or denial of God than from answering any other basic question. They follow for those who regard the question as answerable only by faith or only by reason, and even for those who insist upon suspending judgment entirely.

      Like I said, it’s a popular topic of conversation, in spite of the fact that certain standards of etiquette adamantly insist that we absolutely not talk about such things.
      In this essay, I take my cue from a single word in the title of the above-quoted book: Ideas, as in, The Great Ideas of the Western World, of which, “God” just happens to be a single entry, albeit the biggest one, to be sure. But that in itself is irrelevant. One of them had to be the biggest.
      It has been my experience that discussing the idea of God – as an idea only – is more often than not an extremely exasperating endeavor. It is nigh impossible to get a believer to see it, or treat it, as such.
      I am somewhat known for my strange comparisons, and I’m going to take the liberty of making one now. The whole God contraption makes me think of another large idea, but in this case a concrete one, the space shuttle, which, to date, is very likely the largest, i.e., most complex, technological idea we have yet to concoct.
      Aside from simply being two very large things, God and the space shuttle have something else in common: they seem virtually riddled with issues, problems as large and unwieldy as they are.
      The main difference of course lies in the fact that we can see and touch the space shuttle, and (usually) successfully analyze and repair its difficulties. As a concrete idea, it is made of nuts and bolts (so to speak), which we can learn to manipulate.
      God, on the other hand (so far as we know), is made of nothing but words, mere words.
      But try sometime (if you dare) to persuade a believer of this. They will have none of it. It is a matter of faith with them that the so-called idea that we speak of is an actual object to them.
      Of course, they would never refer to it as such, as an object. It is for them (in a very real sense) an object that is not an object, which is sort of like saying that it’s a thing without being a thing.
      If challenged about their inconsistent, and nonsensical, descriptions of their sacred Deity, they eventually reply that It is ultimately a thing beyond our human words, usually invoking the famous “I AM THAT I AM” quote for support.
      If you then ask them why they would say anything at all about God if It is ultimately beyond words, they shrug their shoulders and spout off even more words, words that usually take the form of sentences that go something like, “Well, God is so great and so good, I just want to talk about Him,” or, “God has been so good to me and my family, I just can’t say enough about Him; I can’t stop praising Him.”
      When you hear responses like this, you suddenly experience a form of strange (if not downright bewildering) surprise, the proverbial cognitive dissonance. You thought you had been speaking with an adult, about one of the great ideas of the Western world, but (is it truly possible?) it turns out to be nothing more than a child – in an adult body. It is a very disconcerting experience.
      You also realize how hopeless it is.
      And the source of the hopelessness is suggested by their inability to put their irrational ideology into a proper framework of words, so evident, for example, in their desperate (even pitiful) descriptions of Deity. And they absolutely do not understand (and would never be willing to accept) that the reason they are unable to fashion a proper word package is because there is indeed something that cannot be put into words, and it is not their God. It is something that none of us can truly describe, however much we might try. It is the irresistible driving force that extends to sources that are primal: the urge to survive.
      No one can rationally explain why it is that they want to keep on living. It seems built into the hardware, hardwired into the brain, the hindbrain. In truth, there are no reasons to keep on living. Only desire compels us to do that. The mysterious primal urge inexorably drives us to survive.
      The fact that we say this (with words) is not the same as explaining it. It is beyond explaining. As I said in The One Thing, all physics eventually fades into metaphysics. A sort of calculus of limits applies to any descriptive process.
      Non-theists (for the most part) are willing to accept the existence of eventual mystery in the universe. Theists are not. They must solve every enigma, every last one of them, in much the same way that a spoiled child must have its way.
      And this utterly childish approach of theirs extends to every undertaking; such as the way they handle the challenge of cosmic mystery.
      They cannot be convinced that they have not truly grasped the enigma of the universe by proposing the existence of a Supreme Architect to account for it. They cannot (or, exhibiting the recalcitrance of a difficult child, will not) understand that they have done nothing but create an even greater mystery than the one they set out to explain. They have not unraveled the secret of the universe by suggesting that God did it. Offering such a proposal is the equivalent of doing little more than sweeping dirt under the rug.
     They have hopelessly complicated the equation, not solved it.
      But, they will not accept rationality’s judgment. Primal urges will always prevail. Biology’s principle driving force is dominance, not reason.
      They cannot so simply embrace their inevitable mortality. They know that they will die, but God? It is – by definition – immortal. It is an omniscient Being Who has somehow managed to conquer the dreaded specter of death. If they do everything It wants (or at least imagine It wants), if they properly kiss Its ass, in other words, perhaps It will share Its secrets with them, somehow allow them to participate in Its perfect knowledge, and eternal bliss. Rationality be damned.
      The believer’s uneasy explanations (with regard to why they so desperately cling to their neurotic ideologies, mere sets of abstract words) thus become somewhat understandable. They are indeed children, upset about having to go to bed when told to, and not understanding (or stubbornly refusing to understand) any justifications that mommy and daddy might offer. The only thing they know is that they want to stay up and play. Mommy and daddy’s reasons simply don’t matter.