Unquiet Gods

 

“Gods.”  “One True God.” What do those words mean?

It just occurred to me, looking into universalism through a metaphorical lens, that perhaps most of us have it backwards. Maybe it’s not as complex as we think, this notion of gods.

Some things will have to stand as given, primarily that humanity needs gods. (Or God.) It’s evident that humans are driven by that need: it drives us to argue about the existence of God; it pressures us to go to war over which God is the right one. Our religion is anchored in the belief that it’s we who are in charge of the existence and attributes of God. We are helpless in the face of our own beliefs.

I wondered if we might be going about this bassackwards (as my grandmother used to say) and I was moved to ask the question, “What if the need for God isn’t limited to humans?” I thought of all the ancient pantheons of divine spirits who were associated with some primal force: God of the Sea; God of Thunder; God of Rain, God of the Moon, God of the Sun, God of Wind; God of the Earth; God of Growing Things; God of Darkness; God of Fire; Gods of each season of the year.

Perhaps it’s not just humans who need gods, maybe the earth and sea and sun need gods as well. I find it heartening to imagine such connections— to envision how the round and turning earth is inseparable from the massive and gravid Earth Spirit; how sunlight is infused with the Essence of Radiance; how the waves of the seashore have their origin in the Great Abyss of Ocean; how the Wind from Otherwhere brings the faint scent of immanence into the mortal world.

Then there are the gods who arise from human experience: God of Love; God of Childbirth; God of War; God of Smithcraft; God of Harvest; God of Vengeance; God of Dreams; God of Wisdom; God of Victory; God of the Hunt; God of Medicine; God of Science; God of Art; God of Poetry; God of Beauty.

What struck me the most was that those who are driven to argue about God and the existence of God make a universal assumption: That it matters whether or not we believe. Much blame is assigned to those who do evil in the name of God. Those who proudly claim the title of Atheist can be relied on to point out the nonsensical and irrational qualities of one theology or another, as if they take for granted that reason and sense ought to always prevail. Their arguments are imbued with the fervor of believers, in the midst of loud proclamations of unbelief.

I wonder about such possibilities as the existence of unacknowledged gods of the present age— demented gods who haunt the corners of laboratories, corporate offices, and academic councils; who skulk, twisted in the wires behind banks of computers, waiting for the next click of a mouse— gods who are forced to survive on the dregs of unacknowledged faith; who eke out their existence by feeding on the twisted energies of cognitive dissonance and moral distress.

A new pantheon of fidgety, muttering, unquiet gods seems to have been called forth: Gods whose worshipers are compelled to fervently deny their very existence. Could these be the tutelary deities of blame and victimhood; of jealousy and self-justification? Could they be the source which grants such gratuitous importance to all that is petty and trivial? Are they the origin of our complacency? Are they the reason we ignore redeeming qualities such as courage and kindness?

These neglected and unrecognized gods have given birth to unwanted children, named them Resentment and Retribution, and then abandoned them to our care. Whenever we decide to adopt them as our own, it only makes these warped and lonely spirits laugh raucously at our gullibility.