By Mariellen Gilpin
One of the most articulate people I ever knew was angry at God because her parents had been abusive emotionally, physically, and sexually—in the name of religion. It saddened me to watch this young person, who had a very spiritual nature, cutting off all routes by which God might minister to her pain. Here is the message I wish I could have written in the mid-'80s to a young woman named Deborah:
Dear Deborah,
I agree: The God your parents told you about does not exist—a god of implacable rules and grim punishment, requiring unthinking allegiance to a flawed concept. That God does not and cannot exist. If you, a mere human, are capable of more justice than your parents' God is, you are right to be angry at that God and turn away.
It does not necessarily mean, however, there is no God. I've been a skeptic too, and I would like to try to describe for you the process by which I became a believer in a God I could love. As a teenager and young adult, I faced difficult problems for which there could be harsh consequences if I made unwise choices. There was no human without an axe to grind to help me think things through. At the time, the Bible was not much help: the King James Version was poetic but not very clear. I turned inward for direction.
I began with the hypothesis that if there were a God, God would be willing to help me think things through. There seemed to be only one way to test the hypothesis, and that was to talk to God and watch the results. So I began telling God what I thought as honestly, as completely, and as plainly as I could. I didn't know how one listened to a God who was reputed, at least, to be silent. I decided to think as carefully as I could, and to invite God, to make sure I thought of the things that needed to be thought about. I decided I would, of course, make mistakes, but I could learn from them.
Over time, I came to believe that the God of my hypothesis existed. Time and again it happened that I would think myself into a rut, spinning my wheels deep in a mire of feelings. A question or thought would come, and as I spelled out the consequences of that thought, my mind would bounce out of its rut into greater objectivity. I turned to God more often.
That's the insight-experience, I hear you saying, Deborah. That's the human experience of gaining insight, and one doesn't need God to explain it. To assume there is no God, and that whatever the results, they are due to my own efforts, is a simpler, more elegant logical process. Deborah, it may be logical to think the results of my tests are due to my own efforts, but I don't think it would be accurate.
Humans are capable of both good and evil insights. Yet in my experience, each time I invited God to comment, the result was an insight that led to wiser, kinder, better choices. It didn't lead to worse choices ever. God, if God exists, is reputed to want people to be good. By their fruits shall ye know them, and the fruits of my God-hypothesis have been insights consistently leading to better choices. A source that helps me behave more justly and lovingly is something I'm willing to call God. If a hypothesis yields positive results, it's probably because the hypothesis has at least the seeds of correctness in it.
But I hear you saying, I have known good people who became good without believing in God. One doesn't need to believe in God to become a good person. Right, Deborah, I know many people who are very good without being at all religious. We don't need to believe in God to receive God's help. But it helps me to ask for help—I receive it more abundantly and more clearly, leading me to believe in the existence of God.
Mariellen, you don't understand. I have asked God with all my heart to help me, and there was no answer. God didn't speak to me. There was no help. There is no God in my experience. Deborah, it took me awhile to learn to hear and recognize God's help. God is silent and subtle, and God also operates by laws just as basic to the universe as the law of gravity. It was some years before I saw the pattern of help and saw that I had become a better person in ways beyond my native capability. I pray that one of these days you will compare what you were with what you are, and find the hand of a Helper. Perhaps it will help if I list some of the laws of the universe that I think I have learned:
* Listening for God’s guidance is helped by daily sitting in silence.
* It is helped by inviting God to be present while I think about a problem.
* Following the guidance I do receive makes the guidance flow more abundantly.
Deborah, you reject the God of your parents for good and spiritual reasons. But you are denying yourself more abundant guidance by throwing out God. Please consider behaving as if the God you can imagine does exist, then weighing the evidence. If you spend some time in silence every day, invite God to be present while you think about a problem, and follow faithfully the guidance you do receive. I trust you will find yourself in a relationship with a God you will appreciate knowing.
Keep in touch! I enjoy knowing you.
—Mariellen
Mariellen Gilpin is a member of Urbana-Champaign (Ill.) Meeting, and an editor of What Canst Thou Say, a newsletter about Quakers, mystical experience, and contemplative prayer. The name of Deborah has been changed.
One of the most articulate people I ever knew was angry at God because her parents had been abusive emotionally, physically, and sexually—in the name of religion. It saddened me to watch this young person, who had a very spiritual nature, cutting off all routes by which God might minister to her pain. Here is the message I wish I could have written in the mid-'80s to a young woman named Deborah:
Dear Deborah,
I agree: The God your parents told you about does not exist—a god of implacable rules and grim punishment, requiring unthinking allegiance to a flawed concept. That God does not and cannot exist. If you, a mere human, are capable of more justice than your parents' God is, you are right to be angry at that God and turn away.
It does not necessarily mean, however, there is no God. I've been a skeptic too, and I would like to try to describe for you the process by which I became a believer in a God I could love. As a teenager and young adult, I faced difficult problems for which there could be harsh consequences if I made unwise choices. There was no human without an axe to grind to help me think things through. At the time, the Bible was not much help: the King James Version was poetic but not very clear. I turned inward for direction.
I began with the hypothesis that if there were a God, God would be willing to help me think things through. There seemed to be only one way to test the hypothesis, and that was to talk to God and watch the results. So I began telling God what I thought as honestly, as completely, and as plainly as I could. I didn't know how one listened to a God who was reputed, at least, to be silent. I decided to think as carefully as I could, and to invite God, to make sure I thought of the things that needed to be thought about. I decided I would, of course, make mistakes, but I could learn from them.
Over time, I came to believe that the God of my hypothesis existed. Time and again it happened that I would think myself into a rut, spinning my wheels deep in a mire of feelings. A question or thought would come, and as I spelled out the consequences of that thought, my mind would bounce out of its rut into greater objectivity. I turned to God more often.
That's the insight-experience, I hear you saying, Deborah. That's the human experience of gaining insight, and one doesn't need God to explain it. To assume there is no God, and that whatever the results, they are due to my own efforts, is a simpler, more elegant logical process. Deborah, it may be logical to think the results of my tests are due to my own efforts, but I don't think it would be accurate.
Humans are capable of both good and evil insights. Yet in my experience, each time I invited God to comment, the result was an insight that led to wiser, kinder, better choices. It didn't lead to worse choices ever. God, if God exists, is reputed to want people to be good. By their fruits shall ye know them, and the fruits of my God-hypothesis have been insights consistently leading to better choices. A source that helps me behave more justly and lovingly is something I'm willing to call God. If a hypothesis yields positive results, it's probably because the hypothesis has at least the seeds of correctness in it.
But I hear you saying, I have known good people who became good without believing in God. One doesn't need to believe in God to become a good person. Right, Deborah, I know many people who are very good without being at all religious. We don't need to believe in God to receive God's help. But it helps me to ask for help—I receive it more abundantly and more clearly, leading me to believe in the existence of God.
Mariellen, you don't understand. I have asked God with all my heart to help me, and there was no answer. God didn't speak to me. There was no help. There is no God in my experience. Deborah, it took me awhile to learn to hear and recognize God's help. God is silent and subtle, and God also operates by laws just as basic to the universe as the law of gravity. It was some years before I saw the pattern of help and saw that I had become a better person in ways beyond my native capability. I pray that one of these days you will compare what you were with what you are, and find the hand of a Helper. Perhaps it will help if I list some of the laws of the universe that I think I have learned:
* Listening for God’s guidance is helped by daily sitting in silence.
* It is helped by inviting God to be present while I think about a problem.
* Following the guidance I do receive makes the guidance flow more abundantly.
Deborah, you reject the God of your parents for good and spiritual reasons. But you are denying yourself more abundant guidance by throwing out God. Please consider behaving as if the God you can imagine does exist, then weighing the evidence. If you spend some time in silence every day, invite God to be present while you think about a problem, and follow faithfully the guidance you do receive. I trust you will find yourself in a relationship with a God you will appreciate knowing.
Keep in touch! I enjoy knowing you.
—Mariellen
Mariellen Gilpin is a member of Urbana-Champaign (Ill.) Meeting, and an editor of What Canst Thou Say, a newsletter about Quakers, mystical experience, and contemplative prayer. The name of Deborah has been changed.
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