God Seeking and God Sought

“I just have trouble with a notion of a God.” He said, seriously.

‘But the Big Bang is a kind of God,isn’t it. The latest name for ‘creator’ or ‘creation’. 

“I guess you could say but I don’t believe in this being of God interested in our affairs so to speak.” His hair was combed and he was well dressed, casually so but groomed. Soft spoken

“I get that but this experience I’m in might well be a God dream.” I said, “I know I’m not God but this may be God and like a program their may or may not be an administrator. That’s a whole other question.”

“Intellectually, I can’t disagree with that. I don’t know either way.” He said.

“ The issue of ‘faith’ is that you can’t experience something perhaps if you don’t believe in it. The scientific mind shows that. All that electron wave particle business.  I find the aetheist ‘closed minded’.  There’s simply no convincing her of anything not in her sensuality. The sensualism is sexy. There needs to be a crack in the comfort before you even question it. I don’t have any need per se to challenge them. But I feel a need to answer their arrogant assumption that there is no God. In this incredible universe of billions of stars you’re going to say there’s not even the possibility of a candy stripped polka dotted God of Gods, God almighty, It’s highly irrational to maintain such a position. But they do.”

“But religious people speak as if they know what God wants and says,” he rightly noted.

“Oh they do. Some are as big a wanker and aetheists are.  Arrogant.  Literalists.  Even the Bible must be interpreted. Collectively humans have been ‘told’ by God to ‘breathe’ and they do so at birth but beyond that there’s no absolute really.  Even understanding the meaning of love or lust is a matter of experience age and understanding.”

“But a baby could just ‘breathe’ without a command from God or programming from God,” he said. 

“  Mysticism is something different. The question I was asked is which is more likely, that I’m a material being living in a spiritual plane or a spiritual being having a material sojourn.  I’m rather fond of the latter idea. There is this God man thought.  I can imagine and dream infinity but live in this finitude. That’s not the reall bugbear bit.”

“What is?’ He asked, still curious.

“The bit that really caught me though was the whole notion that as I was seeking God, God was seeking me. That Hound of Heaven poem. The divine dance. God as lover.  God’s not lost. I’m lost. I hold with in me the sense of a home, of coming home and love is like that. It’s an intuition or feeling, not really intellectual. But you have to be willing. If you turn your back on this thing it’s not going away but there is a door and the door handle is on the inside. I know that much.  Do you see what I mean.”

“I guess, in a way,” he said.

“ I’m not making it very easy or clear. I’m sorry about that. But the experience doens’t lend itself to words any more than human love does. Better told with art or music. Or equations.  Cathedrals are my favourite expression. These days it’s sometimes more likely to experience something God like coming out of mathematics or physics. Scientists are  more religious in their string theories and quantum understanding. I fear the social function of the church, as important as it is, has over ridden the contemplative.  The community is good.  

Are you sure it’s God you have difficulty with more than people or yourself. I doubt God is that difficult or even complicated. Loving God ironically makes loving myself and others easier.” I said.  We left off there. Maybe we’ll speak again, sometime.