I tripped over this question on Josh Slocum’s substack. His phrasing is Manichean (it’s a theological topic, I can use that word).
How does one deal with the feeling of simultaneously talking to a being you don’t really believe in, but feeling like an entitled fraud at the same time?
I’m not sure that I believe in G*d; I’m certainly not “faithful”. I have trouble with miracles that break physics so I tend more toward deism, which is inherently non-Christian, than theism. The only dogma to which I adhere is that it is blasphemous to limit the power of G*d. If it exists at all, it can do whatever it wants to(*). Note the “it”; G*d has no need to reproduce (apparently), so the male/female distinction is silly(**).
In no way am I an entitled fraud. I’m not entitled to my life; it’s a blessing, either literal or metaphorical. I’m not a fraud. I admit that I simply don’t know and that I’m covering my bases. This post was inspired by my resentment of that phrase.
That said, I (primarily) talk to G*d in four ways:
- I thank it for what I have received. In some ways, it’s Pascal’s wager, but in others, I am sincere. I have a better life than anything I’ve done warrants. Lacking anything else to attribute it to, I thank G*d for it. If G*d is responsible, it’s only fair to acknowledge that. If it’s the result of the causelessness of luck, no harm done.
- I make sure it knows when I’m joking. G*d’s sense of humor is not congruent with mine – especially when it comes to myself. If I say something such as, “I’ve never been struck by lightening,” I follow that by looking up and saying, “that was not a request or a challenge.”
- I acknowledge the suffering of others with a Hail Mary. This is my Catholic mother’s doing. Even though I’m most definitely not Catholic, when I hear ambulance sirens or the medicvac helicopter, I say a Hail Mary. Obviously, that’s not directed at G*d, itself, but it’s in the same ballpark. It seems appropriate to take a moment and pray – or even merely hope – for the best when others are having problems. I don’t expect Mary to jump to and fix things, but it’s my way of taking a moment.
- I occasionally will ask for help, but not physics-defying, miraculous help. The sort of mental-state help that an intervening G*d could deliver without breaking the world(***). In the style of the “God grant me the serenity…” prayer. If I were dying of some dread disease, my prayer would be, “lead me to the latest research on this dread disease,” not “cure this dread disease.”
There is no harm in establishing a relationship with the deity. It’s a bit cynical, but the thing is a deity! It’s seen both better and worse. There is no way for any of us to know what’s required for salvation. It could be the same criteria that’s required to live in the first place, which is “nothing” as far as we know. The Carthaginians could have been right and we’re all going to burn in hell for not sacrificing children. I certainly don’t know or even claim to have any insight into the issue.
I treat G*d the same way I treat all the authority figures in my life: With casual informality.
(*) This includes creating a rock so heavy that it cannot lift said rock. Just add a time component. When it creates the rock, it is incapable of lifting the rock. Immediately after the rock’s creation, its strength increases.
(**) Nonetheless, it’s still “Pater noster qui est…” for me. The gender-neutral “Our Creator who art…” grates on me.
(***) Yes, of course an intervening, all-powerful G*d could do whatever it wants without knock-on, butterfly effects. In my opinion, that makes physics-defying miracles LESS likely. Not only does physics have to broken to perform the miracle, but all of the future effects need to be adjusted, too. Of course, you could look at it from the other direction: If G*d is not bound by time, then it can answer next month’s prayer for rain by having a butterfly flap its wings, today. No mess to cleanup. I, personally, don’t think G*d does that sort of thing, but I equally believe that it can, if it so wishes.
Marked Up 