How Me and the Christian God Grew Up Together, Argued, and Later Became Homeys, Basically

I was raised “Christian” (in all the various interpretations and misrepresentations of that vaguest of possible terms). Then I became an agnostic, then an atheist, then…well, now, these names seem pretty funny to me. Mostly these names, which are meant (perhaps) to designate meaning, really steal meaning if we don’t qualify what we mean by them. What I mean is that these words are for the most part used to prop up power, gain influence, maintain ignorance and perpetuate blind-servitude. Especially the word “Christian”. The others make sense only in relation to what we define God as. Of course, all words and all things that exist exist only in relation to some other thing. So meaning is relational, and so, relative. But this does not mean that meaning does not exist. Far from it. Just that meaning must always be ascertained from the fullest context(s) available.

But as I just said I was raised a Christian, that is, God exists as some white bearded guy reclining in the clouds. He’s all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving. He created all that exists, he needs 10% of your monthly income, and used to really like the smell of burning meat, but has since given it up (except in certain rarified circumstances). God, when he finally decides (his coming has been eminent for some time now apparently), will punish all those who decided not to obey him by casting them in a lake of fire, in which they will burn forever and ever. And those who obeyed him will bask in his glory forever and ever in some vague place that is supposed to contain ultimate bliss. Oh, and he had a son too, by a virgin named Mary.

Apparently she was “chosen” and the Holy Spirit (a more mysterious part of God) came to her and impregnated her somehow (of course, virgin births wasn’t new by then, there was Buddha 500 years before, who in some stories was born of a virgin, Hunahpu and Xbalanque, Huitzilopochtli, Lao Tzu, Dionysius, Athena and many more …). Joseph, her soon to be husband, wasn’t that happy at first, but eventually he came around to the idea. And then Jesus, the son of God, was finally born. Which completes the Holy Trinity (if you want to get technical, and I do, Christianity is sort of a polytheistic religion and not monotheistic at all, and if you really want to get more technical it’s incestuous too, since God is both the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, he, in the form of the Holy Spirit, impregnated his own mother, Mary, but that’s only if you want to get technical, and I do).

Now of course, this story has more plot holes in it than the last Star Wars trilogy (which is probably not that surprising since it owes some if its plot elements from the Gospels, Anakin Skywalker being a virgin birth himself). Of course, there are certainly more absurdities and I can go in to much greater detail on any of the above but that’s not the point at all. One can argue ANY of these points till the cows come home, provide alternate interpretations of the narrative(s) but again that’s not the point.

The point I came to in my late teens was simply this: it is a story (which first, I think, swayed me to become agnostic, and very quickly thereafter, an atheist). Being a story about such things as it speaks of, it holds no more empirical or epistemic validity than does a story like Beowulf or Gilgamesh or pink elephants. But once I realized that the literal interpretations of these stories were absurd and ultimately not helpful to me, then the real work began. I was condemned to deeper meaning. How can the stories be valid at all? How can they be meaningful in some sense to me?

I studied every religion I knew about, I read the Bible 3 times (just to make sure, Hell is a powerful idea after all) along with many many many commentaries by Christian thinkers both premodern, modern and postmodern. I read the very tedious Koran once. I read the many many many Buddhist sutras along with hundreds of books by Buddhist scholars and practitioners. I read the Upanishads, the Vedas, the Poetic Edda, the Prose Edda and, of course, read the works of many philosophers and scientists.

And then I read some Stephen King. You can’t read serious stuff all the time you know. But after reading all these things and reading the great literature of the world one learns something very valuable: that we evolve and have evolved and will, if we don’t blow ourselves up, evolve again. We have evolved both physically, morally, spiritually, socially, etc. But the same “religious” (pardon the use of yet another vague term, here I simply mean it in its original Greek context, religio- meaning to link back, as in the passing down of some ritual or narrative) terminology always was dragged with us. Which is fine as far as it goes.

But we have neglected to redefine these terms in light of new discoveries in science, philosophy, ethics, and art. And most of the issues some of us have with religion, or God, can be solved with just a little agreement on our terms. We might not agree on what God is, but we can at least be clear on what we mean when we say the word God. This, I think, can alleviate a lot of confusion and allow real, more meaningful communication to begin.

So, after a ten odd year quest I’ve come to this idea: God has evolved too. Once God was (at least in western culture) pretty much what I described above, the old white guy with a long white beard in the clouds judging humanity, sending the good ones to Heaven and the bad ones to Hell. But this idea of God, we no longer find interesting, or even valid. Children are climbing the early developmental stages at a much faster rate than did their ancestors. They’re hitting the rational level at around 13 or 14 now. Quick. This means that the mythic idea of God they are discarding for some other idea of God, or discarding God altogether (and all this while their hormones are raging out of control which makes for interesting times). And sadly, in our postmodern culture there is seemingly no room for both God and rationality. There is of course, but I’ll get to that a little later.

“God is dead,” Nietzsche informed us in 1883. It finally made the cover of the New York Times in 1966 (good news travels fast, I guess). But it is only the mythic God that has died, that is, the God that says there is only absolute notions of good and evil and no in-between, that if you don’t do what I say you will burn in Hell forever. Good riddance to that God most will say. And for good reason. But this idea of God is the only thing that has died, not the idea of God! And remember, we must be careful when talking about large populations who believe this or that, because we are talking about developmental sequences, which is ever shifting.

But we do know this: right now 70% of the world believes in some notion of that kind of mythic God, and that population is still ethnocentric, which means that they are likely to believe and say things like, “my country right or wrong; my race right or wrong; my religion is right and everyone else’s is wrong; my God is the only God and everyone else’s is false…you get the idea. Basically, this is the same developmental level that allowed Nazis to gain power in Germany and cause the murder of more than six million Jews. Scary. Just a nudge left or right and we’re talking about potential genocide.

These people are not yet at the rational stage. But those who are, at least in the West, are between a rock and a hard place because in our postmodern world (postmodernism is dead, it’s just that few people know about it) they are given the choice of no God or a mythic God. And, of course, given the choice they obviously would rather deal without a God than that mythic God! I mean, look at all the trouble we have from the mythic idea of God, all the holy wars, all the near genocides, all the intolerances, the persecutions, etc. and all in God’s name. For every year of peace throughout human history we have endured 14 years of war…and all over this mythic notion of God.

Life’s hard enough without having to worry about all that. But here’s the good news as I see it. God is an ever changing construct that is real. And very briefly God is this: God is what was before the beginning, before the Big Bang, the Eternal, whatever power or force, that started off all that we know and see in the universe, and what will be after the universe (or multiverse) finally ends. That is God. And we can name this as simply Spirit. But any name will do. Call it cheese puffs. Call it flooky poo poo. Doesn’t matter. This divinity won’t get offended (how can you offend God?). And Spirit kicked off evolution too, which is simply Spirit-in-action. There is teleology to evolution, direction, purpose. Since the Big Bang the universe has evolved into more and more complex systems. It has become more holistically embracive, more moral, more spiritual, more loving, and more compassionate. It is meandering to be sure, but it has a direction and it is up.

God is becoming more God-like. In a physical sense look at it this way: first there was matter, then life, then molecules, atoms, cells, cell systems, organs, organ systems… consciousness…) And the more depth that is disclosed the more spiritual anything is. And since spirit discloses depth and ever reaches for richer meaning, by this definition of God, science is even spiritual. In fact, a scientist who attempts to cure the world of disease from universal concern and care is far more spiritual than say, a fundamentalist preacher, who preaches that if we don’t believe in his God (his version of the story) we are going to Hell. So, you see, God will always exist, but the idea of what God is will always evolve as we grow more conscious of both our selves, the universe we live in, and the divine interplay between inner worlds and outer worlds (our consciousness and the world). At the end of the day God is all that is. And this includes us.

But having taken the path I have I can’t help but wonder, knowing now what I do about the world, the universe, could I ever become a Christian again? What circumstances would have to take place for that to occur? But I realize that that is to beg the question. Because I, of course, could never be that Christian that I was raised to become any more than I could revert back to the consciousness I had when I was five years old. I think of how Christianity is largely practiced today, with little authenticity, little transformation, and I wonder could there be a place for me in the fold somewhere again. The answer is, of course, no. Is there a Christian church that would have the same experiences that I have had (I say experiences instead of beliefs because beliefs require no work on the part of the believer, only obedience, likewise I distinguish between faith and hope: faith is born out of ignorance, having no experience of the divine or very little; and hope as having experience of the divine as it arises in the mind as the world, the universe, the beautiful, the true, the good, etc.). The answer is still, of course, no.

I believe that if there is not a major transformation is consciousness in the next 20 years, or at the very least a translation of consciousness, then I sincerely think Christianity will not be around, the same goes for Judaism and Islam (all have the same God for those of you keeping score). There are innovators to be sure, those luminous thinkers of those 3 religions that have worked within the religions at a high level of consciousness/awareness, but they are few indeed and will only be truly appreciated in the years to come when that 70% catches up with them. Right now they are just the heretics.

Today I consider myself a Buddhist more than anything else. But that’s only if someone held a gun to my head. I don’t really concern myself with labels anymore (at least as far as my own spiritual orientation). Buddhism is the sanest religion, I think. No dogma, consequently no blind belief system, no archaic God, only the prerational, rational and transrational mind in direct contact with the divine. That’s it. But that’s not to say it doesn’t have its problems. Those 70% we talked about earlier are Buddhists too.

But what is different with Buddhists rather than Christians is that the leaders of the Buddhist religion practice it from a rational and transrational awareness. And this is important. This is why I think Buddhism is so popular with those at a rational level of awareness in the world. It’s light years ahead of any other religion being practiced today. It’s like one philosopher said speaking of the validity of all religions: “All religions are true, especially Buddhism!” Buddhism (and all its many flavors) is the foremost light in the religious world. On the qualitative alone it is superlative among the other religions. But the remarkable thing about Buddhism (and the secret of its longevity) is that you can be Christian, Muslim, or Jewish and still be a Buddhist. Buddhism is dogma free, and so, its truths can be integrated into whatever religion you identify yourself most with. The important thing is your own consciousness, not what you believe.

So I was reading one of my favorite philosophers today and I found something very interesting. He had found a way to be a Christian, yet not sacrificed his rationality. And though we would have some conceptual discussion on a couple of our identical terms, it does not render his words any less fit or sublime. Cornel West said this:

“To be human is to suffer, shudder and struggle courageously in the face of inevitable death. To think deeply and wisely as a human being is to meditate on and prepare for death. The quest for human wisdom requires us to learn how to die–penultimately in the daily death of bad habits and cruel viewpoints and ultimately in the demise of our earthly and temporal bodies. To be human, at the most profound level, is to counter honestly the inescapable circumstances that constrain us, yet muster the courage to struggle compassionately for our own unique individualities and for more democratic and free societies. This courage contains the seeds of lived history–of memory, maturity and melioration–in the face of no guaranteed harvest. Hence, my view of what it means to be human is preeminently existential–a focus on particular, singular, flesh-and-blood persons grappling with dire issues of death, dread, despair, disease and disappointment. Yet I am not an existentialist like the early Sartre, who had a systematic grasp of human existence. Instead, I am a Chekhovian Christian who banks his all on radical–not rational–choice and on the courage to love enacted by a particular Palestinian Jew named Jesus, who was crucified by the powers that be, betrayed by cowardly comrades andmisconstrued by corrupt churches that persist, and yet is remembered by those of us terrified and mesmerized by the impossible possibility of his love.”

I could be that kind of Christian.