What use is God if he can’t actually do anything for us?

Part 2

A similar, hugely beneficial effect of our new understanding of God, relates to the idea of keeping faith. Again, this acts both within the individual life of each believer, and actually operates as a channel of communication between people – even though they are not in contact. Interestingly, this channel works in exactly the same way as in the traditional understanding of God.

So, traditionally, let’s say I am worried about my daughter, who lives a long way away, and is having a hard time. I am not going to be able to visit her to comfort her for ages. So, I say a prayer to God and give him my message of comfort for my daughter. I conceive of him drawing close to her and saying, “I have a message for you from your father; he is rooting for you and sends his love”. However, this sounds like the sort of thing we now acknowledge God cannot do: he is not some sort of spiritual telegraph system; we said that God can only work within each individual’s mind. However, under the idea of “keeping faith”, God does indeed act as a sort of spiritual telegraph system, even though both my daughter and myself are only talking to ourselves (or, rather, talking to the God who is the voice within our own minds), not to each other. So, I keep faith with her and with God. I go out into my garden to look at the moon, and in my heart and mind, I say my prayer: “Dear Lord, I love my daughter so much; please will you lift her up by your great Spirit and give her the strength she needs”. At some point – and the timing is not crucial – my daughter keeps faith with me and with God, and in her heart and mind thinks things over before God and says to herself and to God: “I bet my father is thinking about me and sending me his love, and calling on you Lord to lift me up by your mighty Spirit. And I know too, Lord, that you want me to be whole and well”. As we said at the start, that our new understanding of God maintains the whole of the inner life of personal relationship with God, then, as my daughter says her prayer, all the sustaining love and power of God floods into her heart and mind. The message of my prayer has been delivered to her because we both kept faith.

What use is God if he can’t actually do anything for us?

(This is a long theological and philosophical reflection, coming in 9 parts)

Part 1

Within our new framework of understanding for religion, we have preserved in its entirety the whole of the believer’s inner life, sharing a personal relationship with God. However, we have given up any claim that God can do anything in the external world to change anything that would have otherwise happened anyway – except, of course, for human agents changing the course of the world through the choices they make, as they live out their faith. The effect of people living out their faith is enormously strong for each individual, and in a society where there is a strong faith community, the effect can be redoubled and redoubled many times over.

In this understanding, prayer is not an appeal to God to change something on our behalf; when it is personal private prayer, it is a means to gather our thoughts and devote our resources to achieving a goal, and when it is corporate prayer, it is a means for the community to share its values and goals to direct it to those actions that it approves of. So, for example, in an entirely genuine way, the church prayed, either in general for those in need, or, in particular, for Mrs Smith, who was known to be having a hard time. The prayer was for God to help her. However, one of those praying was moved to decide to visit Mrs Smith with an offer of help. This is understood to be “God answering our prayers”, even though we know there is an entirely explicable human chain of communication and decision. However, it’s not a con trick, pretending that it was all God’s work; it is a beneficial outcome that happened only because the community of faith turned to God for guidance.

God: who are you; what are you?

Part 6

I do want to admit that in some of my other writings I have perhaps too readily expressed confidence that I know that this voice is not me. Though you can see why I’m reluctant to claim it as my voice, for the conclusion that it leads to is that I am God (and you too, of course).

What is it? I admit that many of the things “God tells me” are not rocket-science; they are not divorced from what I might have worked out for myself – though I have had a lifetime of training myself “in the ways of God” through imbibing ideas, stories, values about him. However, it still feels as though it is coming to me from outside of myself. And sometimes (maybe quite rarely, I’m not sure) this external voice takes your breath away. It is utterly, shockingly, transformingly different. It gives incisive judgement in ways that are exhilaratingly liberating, uplifting, creative, energising, full of vision and hopeful possibilities. If this is me (and it must be me if we are saying that all those other occasions are me) then this is an extraordinary capability of the mind. It seems much more authentically truthful to say, “God has spoken to me”. Although it’s quite a tame illustration (after all, what could do justice to God) I wonder if an appropriate illustration of this is if you have ever played chess with yourself. You just can’t fool yourself. It’s possible that you might make a move and then a few moments later think of a good countermove for “your opponent”, but I don’t think it’s possible to be suddenly shocked by yourself in the way that a real opponent can.

The word “authentic” has crept in and is this the essence of it? Yes, all the voices in my head speak in the way I speak, but I recognise all the voices as my own – even if I am arguing an issue not just from two sides but from several. But when “the voice of God” speaks I do not recognise it as mine. I can tell when I am trying to smuggle my ideas in under cover of God’s will, but when God genuinely speaks to me, it is recognised as authentically him. It is other; it is not me.

I realise that this is circular reasoning: when I feel that something is true (authentic) it’s because I feel that it is true (authentic). Probably there is no getting round this. This means that, ultimately, it is a judgement. A free choice. “Who do you say that I am?” I say that you are the Lord.

God: who are you; what are you?

Part 5

I come back to the simple reality that the voice of God is experienced in my own mind.

If it’s me all along, then I am God. Theoretically, this is idolatry, the greatest sin, though, in this case, it would not be meant in a hubristic way, it would be a case of honouring the truth, and accepting that the individual human being has the status that we have traditionally given to God. Of course, we are painfully aware that, traditionally, God is always God – he never falters from his perfection, whereas we – if we are God – only attain this achievement in fleeting moments. Nevertheless, there is the opportunity here for an exalted humanism which would, in its principles, be identical with the religious view of, for example, Christianity. The difference would be that we would be taking complete responsibility for – well, everything, as we truly are on our own, and there would be a number of adjustments required to religion to do with there being no-one to ask help from. I think – with a little imagination – we could create a new “humanistic religion” that was in all practical impact identical with Christianity. So, the issue would simply be: which is more honest – to believe that there is a God or that the human mind has “divine” capabilities?

We’re considering that God is all in my mind, but it doesn’t feel like me. And feelings are important. Though we must reason things out too. As so often, the honest answer is that we don’t know which is the right answer. We could argue that it doesn’t matter in that both routes lead to identical outcomes. And so, the only issue is that people following both a religious and a humanistic route through life genuinely believe it with an untroubled mind, rather than having “the voice of God” impeded by doubts by continually wondering if this is God or “just me” talking.

God: who are you; what are you?

Part 4

This is a theoretical possibility – though I am reluctant to judge that this is so – not least because this “3^rd voice” so often seems to strike through the dross of usual concerns to reveal a distinctively different – and better – angle on the subject. It is a “divine” angle because it is so elevated, altruistic, principled, beneficial. As I know myself to be not a terribly nice person, this voice sounds so incredibly wise and loving that it’s reasonable for me to think: “This is not me talking now”.

So, is God’s voice just the work of our own minds? Of course, God’s voice always speaks with our voice. It uses our vocabulary and sentence structure. It uses our core ideas and values. Because we are the only person who has access to our own minds, then we are aware that the “internal conversations” are going on in our own minds. By the way, how else is any of this going to happen? If God is going to speak to us, where else would he do it except in our own minds – using our normal words and thought forms – but imbued with his nature. None of this is necessarily arguing against God. Nevertheless, this “voice of God” is clearly experienced as existing in our own minds – just as the other voices which we readily accept are our own voices exist in our own minds. Therefore, it is natural to say that this “God’s voice” is our own voice too really – and religious people have simply made a mistake. Interestingly, this conclusion is so natural that it makes me wonder why anyone ever thought that it was God’s voice. Are the points above about the “higher” quality of this voice really sufficient to make us think: “That’s not me; that’s God”? Is it because this “voice of God” is so often taking up a moral position contrary to our own desires? So, in our internal conversation, although we’re putting up a good battle with ourselves to “do the right thing” we know that “really” we want to do the selfish thing. So many people successfully talk themselves round to the selfish point of view that we mustn’t take an easy psychological way out and say, “Ah, so God is just the internalised voice of moral authority – Freud was right all along”. It seems more honest to me to give God (“the voice of God”) a bit more credit. My cunning self-interest is quickly grinding down the resistance of my principles when the voice of God commandingly cuts through: “You will honour me and put your self-interest to one side”.

God: who are you; what are you?

Part 3

Perhaps our experience of God is simply a peculiarity of the way the human mind works – perhaps an accident of evolutionary development. What religious people find most striking is the way the voice of God does indeed seem to them to be external and different to themselves. But perhaps this is just to do with the working of the brain. Perhaps (just speculating) these sorts of ideas are dealt with in a part of the mind separate to the “usual” working parts of the mind, so that when this section of our mind says, “Hey you, I’ve got an idea/message for you”, it seems as though it is “coming from outside” because it is, indeed, coming from an unusual and discrete part of our mind.

These are all good thoughts, but I’m still beating about the bush and avoiding concentrating on the heart of the matter.

Suppose I am mulling over deep thoughts, in a “usual, entirely human” sort of way. I say to myself, “I hope my blog becomes really well-known so that I become famous”. I am immediately able to use my own principles to say, “Denis, that’s terrible; you’re such a vain person”. My own judgement is able to chip in, “What I really hope is that my blog will be of great help to many people”. Now, I’m much happier because I can see that this is a much more noble aim – one that I approve of, and I believe God does too. But then “the voice of God” chips in, “Your blog is irrelevant: what I want to know is whether or not you are at last ready to devote your attention to me”. Though this is a bit artificial, I think it illustrates what I mean by “the 3 strands of thinking” I mentioned earlier, with God’s voice “cutting through” my conversation with myself. Now what is this voice? Is it simply that the mind has “a higher level”? We have the ability to have conversations with ourselves – which we readily understand as an internal debate, but we also have the ability to synthesise, reflect and comment on these conversations and come to a higher-level evaluative judgement. As all thoughts simply pop into our heads (though we may be aware of having been working on them), this is simply another thought, but it surprises us by its profundity. It strikes us as “above the ordinary” and – because we have adopted the framework of understanding that God might talk to us – we take this 3^rd voice to be the voice of God when in reality it is “simply” our best judgement on the subject. As it “pops into” our heads, we think, “Where on earth did that come from? It must be God”. However, really, it is all the work of our own minds.

God: who are you; what are you?

Part 2

I’m also extremely unwilling to give up my understanding of this voice as the voice of God. Whatever this voice is, it is the most precious thing in my life. Through it, I have gained greater insight, clarity, uplifting transcendence and compassionate wisdom than through any other voice.

Could it be my voice? I wonder if it’s possible for me to identify any clear, specific examples of an inner conversation where the 3 strands can be discerned: my voice “as my usual self”, my voice being my altruistic best, and the (supposed) authentic voice of God, striking through all doubt and confusion, self-interest and self-deception, suddenly revealing a new dimension dazzling in truth, goodness and love?

Is it fair to say (sounds a bit like a cop-out to me, though it could be true) that whenever we speak words of love, truth and justice, that is God speaking? And does that mean that “God” is simply a personalised version of the abstract principles of truth, goodness and love? I want God to me more than this, though, in what way could God be more than this? What’s better than perfect goodness, truth and love? Yes, God is personalised, but what does this add? Is it only because through aeons of evolution, we understood abstract things in concrete personal forms? However, a personal God certainly changes these abstract good principles and applies them to me in a personalised way. This somehow seems “better” than me applying them to myself – though this is also a person acting – it’s just that it’s me doing it to myself. And having a personal God seems better than me simply being inspired by an abstract idea – even a supremely perfect one. Though if this was the case, perhaps I should give myself credit for being so inspired– and by extension, give the human race credit for being able to do this– rather than giving God the credit for “giving us” this inspiration?

God: who are you; what are you?

(Coming in 6 parts)

Part 1

It has been a staple of my thoughts for some years now that the voice of God that I experience in my head is distinctly different from my own voice, and I know this to be true because I know what it is like to think things over with myself, but when God “talks” to me, it feels different. This voice has become extremely precious to me, and is, in practice, the foundation of my claim to believe in God because he is real. I do have my final, fall-back defence whereby I reinterpret God as a creation of the human mind, rather than an independently existing being. However, in everyday living it is my sense of being in a relationship with God, because we converse with each other, which is the heart of my faith.

However, I now want to consider if I am wrong, and the voice of God in my head is not so different from my own voice after all.

The most I’m willing to say is that – if the voice is mine – it’s a very remarkable voice, as though I had attained the wisdom, insight and compassionate justice of God himself. This is so intrinsically unlikely that it’s more plausible to suppose that it is the voice of God. However, if I try to bend over backwards to be kind to those of secular persuasion – and, of course, to give due reverence to the wonder of human nature at its best – then I wonder if it’s possible that this “God’s voice” is what we sound like when we are having moments of great insight. Of course, many people fool themselves into thinking that their own desires are the voice of God – sometimes in a good but inadequate way, but we also know that this can be in grossly immoral ways, such as, “God told me to slaughter those people”. However, God’s voice in my head is always kind and wise, to an extraordinary degree – and this is not true of me.