Unbelief

Sometimes I wonder if I should believe in God.

Not “should” in a moral or mandatory sense. “Should” in the sense of, maybe it would make my life better. But it’s absurd to believe in something merely for utilitarian reasons, because it means that you don’t really believe it at all – you’re just using the belief as a tool. I wish I could believe in God, because it would be so nice to have an afterlife. Existence would be so comforting if I believed in God. But I just don’t. For me, it would be like trying to believe that a square has three sides. I can’t believe something if it’s not true. I trust my senses more than my hopes.

Lately, I’ve been thinking that the reason it would be helpful to believe in God is because I tend to look at the downside of everything. I want perfection in life. Particularly, lately I want to find the perfect career, and I don’t know if such a career exists. Even if I were pursuing my passion, there would be imperfections, annoyances, stresses, the possibility of failure. I think one of my problems is that while other people are willing to accept imperfections in their lives, which leads them to lower expectations and greater happiness, I’m not like that. I’m always looking at what’s missing, I’m always looking at the negatives.

I think it’s because I feel, in some sense, that the negatives are my fault. There’s a little inner parent telling me that if I were doing a better job in life, if I were working harder at life, then those negatives wouldn’t be there. Part of me is still caught in my kindergarten classroom, where I was king and everything was perfect because perfection was easy to achieve, especially for me. But it’s a long way from being able to recite the months of the year backwards to succeeding at adult life.

If I believed in God, then I would know that perfection existed. It would free me from looking for perfection in this life, because I’d know either (1) that a perfect being already existed and I didn’t have to be that person, or (2) that I’d eventually experience perfection myself in oneness with God.

I’d also know I’d have an afterlife, which would make me less worried about growing old, time passing, being unable to achieve my goals, eventual death, and being forgotten.

Unfortunately, I can’t get myself to believe in God, so I’m going to have to find another way to deal.

10 thoughts on “Unbelief

  1. The (putative) existence of God does not necessarily imply an afterlife. For example, Judaism is rather equivocal and vague about the afterlife. There is a belief that everyone will be resurrected upon the arrival of Messiah, but anything beyond that is undefined (except to the extent that your “afterlife” is in the form of your children– Judaism is very obsessed with families and children, for understandable reasons). The afterlife just isn’t a big deal as it is in Christianity, for which the afterlife is the main attraction (i.e., if you’re a Believer in Jesus you go to heaven; if you’re not a Believer you go to h-e-double-toothpicks).

    On the other hand, if you submit to Allah and die while killing infidels, you get 72 dark-eyed (female) virgins. Of course, you probably wouldn’t find that particularly appealing, and some linguists think that passage in the Koran actually refers to white raisins (apparently quite a delicacy in Mohammed’s time, but probably most disappointing to al-Qaeda types).

    Classical Buddhism doesn’t believe in a deity, but it’s very clear about the endless cycle of death and rebirth from which the only possible escape is the Eightfold Path. Still, Buddhist spiritual practices might be beneficial to you irrespective of the afterlife.

    Maybe you’d be best off without organized religion, unless you feel you could benefit from the social aspects of it. In that case, a Unitarian-Universalist church might be just the ticket. Find one that specifically advertises itself as a “Welcoming Congregation” (I’ll leave it to you to look that up) and you’ll be all set. Or better yet, realize that perfection is unattainable in this very imperfect world and deal with it on those terms. You needn’t be perfect, but merely give it your best shot. And rather than worrying about an unknowable afterlife, do your best to make your life here– the only one you can be sure exists– the best you possibly can.

    Blessed be,

    Mipiel

  2. The only afterlife I’ll be having is my atoms flying around and becoming part of other things, like ants, flowers, skyscrapers, and dog poop.

  3. I can really only speak to Christianity, and even then only my particular theological alignment, since Christianity is now, as always, struggling with (seemingly?) irreconcilable approaches to and understandings of the Divine. If you’re looking for comfort, we do have the Holy Spirit as part of the trinitarian mystery, to whom Jesus referred in the Gospel of John as “the comforter” (in the King James Version, but the more accurate New Revised Standard renders it “Advocate,” which is comforting, too). Still, I must caution that this simplistic understanding of faith is one of the things that atheists latch on to so often with such glee; Marx famously of course called religion the opium of the masses. But religion — at least Christianity (at least, mainstream, theologically orthodox Christianity, and not consumerist evangelical prosperity Gospel nonsense) is not really all that comforting. It’s challenging. Faith calls you to be in a constant state of self-examination. In faith there is much hope, to be sure, and that can be comforting. But faith also calls us to carefully examine what it is we hope for, and why, and whether that is consistent with the Gospel teaching. Forcing yourself to examine your desires and priorities can be unsettling. Trying to realign your priorities can be a lengthy struggle (and in this, we find also the genuine meaning of Islam’s jihad).

    The fact that you are presently already struggling with these issues and that you are expressing a desire to believe in God, if only that seemed reasonable to you, suggests to me that The Spirit is already at work. Seek and you will find. Maybe the reason you can’t believe in God is because you’ve understood God in a way that makes Him impossible to accept; I find this with many agnostics or non-believers, that they believe or have been taught that “God” is something quite other than what we believe him to be. They often say, “If God really existed, He would/wouldn’t” and my response is usually, “Exactly.”

  4. Belief in God and/or an afterlife doesn’t necessarily make anything easier. While you may then conclude that “perfection” exists, that gives you yet another standard of perfection to judge yourself against and find yourself wanting. Further, there are many kinds of afterlives, and you might not know if you’ll get to go to the right one.

    The first commenter mentioned Judaism’s equivocal and vague teaching on the afterlife. There is a reason for that: we’re not supposed to live our lives thinking about what happens after death. That’s merely a distraction from what we’re supposed to do here and now.

    You might want to consider reading The Meaning of God in Modern Jewish Religion by Mordecai M. Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism. It’s up for debate whether Kaplan was an atheist or not; one thing that is certain is that he was non-theist. God, for him, was “the force that makes for salvation,” that quality of the natural order and of human ingenuity that allows for life to be made meaningful and worth living — and inspires us to make life more meaningful and more worth living for ourselves and for the rest of the world. You can find out more about the Reconstructionist Movement here.

    We can’t do it all, but then we’re not supposed to. “Rabbi Tarfon taught: ‘You are not expected to complete the task, yet you are not free to withdraw from it.” (Pirkei Avot 2:20). It requires readjusting one’s perspectives, accepting that imperfection exists and counting as a victory whatever small improvement we can make in our lives and our own little corner of the world.

    You might also consider stopping by some time (I see in the archives that you’ve been there at least once before). Our senior rabbi, Sharon Kleinbaum (yesterday’s co-grand marshall of the Pride parade) is a Reconstructionist and is a very inspiring speaker. At the very least, having a community to struggle and question with is a great help. One of the beauties of the Jewish religion is that you don’t have to believe in a pre-conceived notion of God. If you ask any two Jews what they believe in, you’ll get at least three opinions.

    But with Judaism you’ve already got a pre-packaged set of ritual symbols to try to bring order and meaning into life and a community that you already belong to that is founded on the notion of “struggling” or “wrestling” with God — whatever that word “god” may mean for you.

  5. Thanks all. For some reason my e-mail notifications for all these comments wound up in my spam folder and I wasn’t aware of them until today.

    Daniel – actually, I was raised in a Reconstructionist synagogue, of which my parents are still members, so I’ve had experience with it, although I haven’t studied it or read about it. I’ll note that book for future reference.

    Andy – unfortunately I don’t think the Spirit is at work in my life. And for me “the Spirit” has very Christian connotations, which just doesn’t work for me. I think my occasional reasons for wanting to believe in God are secular reasons. But – very insightful thoughts on faith and struggle nonetheless.

    Homer – I think I agree with you.

    Mipiel – interesting insight on the various opinions of the afterlife. Thanks!

  6. This is all rubbish.

    Again and again in history, and exquisitely recorded in the Bible, we have tons of examples of mankind contemplating the existence of G-d or the detail of care/interference in our lives; These questions are, more often than not, usually addressed in stunning fashion only subsequent to animal sacrifice, often directly to the individual replete with manifestations of the Wholly Other. You really can\\\’t beat that kind of response. Try it before you start poo-poohing this out of hand.

    While modern Judaism awaits the (soon! soon!) reconstruction of the Big Temple in Jerusalem before re-instituting korbanot, in reality none of us need await this totally unnecessary prerequisite. Animal sacrifice can be easily conducted in the privacy of one\\\’s own backyard, or even apartment\\\’s roof-garden given the right materials and common-sense safe-guards.

    Traditionally, hearkening back to homespun Hebraic tribal practices before our conquest of Canaan, a proper sacrificial alter is (always) constructed of stone, is square, and has four (4) \\\”horns\\\” or sharp-pointy stones on the top of each corner. In the center is the fire-pit. The sacrificial entity should be highly prized by the individual, such as a first-born male calf of your flock (unique coloring or spots is always a plus), or some other animal highly valued by your household (meow).

    The actual sacrifice should be preceded by draining the victim of all blood (i.e., life) and *then* placing the corpse onto the blazing alter. (Screams of pain from a living being have never pleased G-d.) While the fire consumes your sacrifice conduct any prayers, oaths, or other words/phrases of personal meaning loudly, face down with arms extended skyward. Do not kneel (we don\\\’t do this, only the goyim kneel). Then, be calm, still, and await your answer(s) from the One Whose Name Shall Not Be Uttered or Written.

    Trust me, if history is any witness, this totally works. Be the first in your Judaic branch to re-introduce this time-honored ritual, but please always obey any local fire-ordinances when so doing.

    rob@egoz.org

    [Rob: I will be sure to obey alll ordinances!]

  7. While the lunatic Haredi fringe (is that redunant?) are eager to find a red heifer so they knock down that nasty big mosque and rebuild the Beit HaMikdash, I kinda thought most people agreed with the Rambam that the replacement of prayer with blood and gore was a rationalist improvement in Jewish worship!

    Actually, this week’s parashah — the ever fun story of Balak and Bil’am shows that simply killing and grilling a few animals isn’t going to get you your way.

    Another problem, though, is that since at least the time of Hezekiah (716-687 BCE) it’s been unkosher for anyone other than a ritual pure kohen to offer sacrifices, and for sacrifices to be offered anywhere other than the altar in Jerusalem. If the Bible is any record (ha ha), then God tended to get upset if anyone did otherwise…

  8. I thought this was about communicating, witnessing G-d? …finding some proof of Being.

    And regarding some proscribed kohanim… phft!
    Power to the People! Democracy has always been a Jewish Hallmark.

    Balak-n-Bal-im!?!?! I have no experience about how to conduct a curse against one or more souls, or the possibility and practicality of such. I leave that to the Euro-Jewish academia and their ghettoistic theology. Ack.

    That said, i eagerly received numerous photo accounts of “sacrificial communicative attempts” by several readers. Kudos on the alter constructions! Chipped patio bricks from HomeDepot do indeed suffice aesthetically. But, i do not believe plants, fish, or small rodents do *not* constitute “prized household animals” from the perspective of the Lord, and might explain the less than satisfactory empirical Response. G-d is listening, just make sure the smoke is acceptable.

    rob@egoz.org

  9. What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation� I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.

    — Isaiah 1:11-15

  10. The Samaritans — all 700 or so of them –still perform sacrifices in the Biblical model on Mt. Gerizim. They haven’t managed to get any communication from above yet, either pro or con.

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