I bear no opinion on the supernatural. To me, anything that purportedly exists outside of the knowable realm is accordingly, logically, unknowable, or at least hitherto unknown. Thusly, my opinion on that which I do not yet know, or perhaps cannot ever know is slight, very slight – zilch, actually.
(As a brief side, my opinion on the gods of our past is quite strong. Take a look here).
The thing about god however, is that in some versions, he or she or it is everything. He or she or it is the darkness and the light, the good and the evil, something earthly, something that can be felt and experienced from within.
I actually don’t mind using the term “god” in this way. Yeah, sure, the term is perfectly interchangeable with words like universe, or world, or “spirit” (if ensconced in quotation marks) or even, perhaps more loosely, earth. But god works, too. Actually, when I’m feeling a little frisky, I prefer using the term god. One of the reasons that I prefer the term is because it can mean both so much and so little. Its definition has been perturbed to such an extent that it essentially means nothing (if you want to be reasonable about it, that is); or, alternatively, it means exactly what you define it to mean.
In this way, when I use the term god, this is what I’m talking about:
God is everything, every non-thing, every thing that we have not yet discovered, and every non-thing that we will not ever discover. God is the tree, its wilting branches, its deeply set roots, its luscious leaves. God is the bird, its bright feathers, its pecking beak, its feeble legs, its ability to fly, its flying.
God is the shadows and god is the light and god is all that exists in between. God is the known, the knowable, the unknown, the unknowable.
God is the direction within no direction, god is no direction within direction – the compass and the needle and the magnet syncing them. God is the means and god is the end. God is up and god is down, left and right and round and round.
God is the word, the thought, the word’s thought, the thought’s word; god is the meaning, god is the context, god is the whole, god is the one, and god is the divided.
God is every good ideal, god is every bad ideal, god is an ideal not yet manifested.
God is the river and the stream and the sea into which all flow. God is the cliff’s edge, the cliff’s peak, the cliff’s untrodden track, the cliff’s spirit, the cliff’s lagoon.
God is a shoe and the foot and the person and the bone and the skin and the hair and the flesh. God is all of those things, and none of things.
God is the idea, the idea beyond the idea, the idea beyond the idea of the idea. God is the immaterial and the material, the transient and the permanent. God is the wave and the particle and the flow and the still. God is the micro and the macro, the cosmos and the atom, the small and the large, the weak and the strong.
God is the commander and the commanded, the master and the pupil, the observer and the observed, creation and destruction, creator and destructor, form and formlessness.
In other, simpler words – god just is. God is that which is eternal, absolute, and all encompassing. God is that which exists beyond our existence, the glue binding subject and object. God is the concept, and that which lies beyond it.
God just is. Every thing and every non-thing.
Really, what I’m trying to say is that God, if that’s what you’d want to call it, is a thing that’s born and borne outside of our perception. For this reason, it’s both unknowable, and yet paradoxically, all that we can ever know.
For we are both a part of this universe (god, if you will), and we are of it, and we are in it. There’s no escaping this. And god, if that’s what we’re gonna call it, is just life, as it is, beyond humanity’s binds, but intricately linked into them.
I don’t want to keep on repeating myself, so I’ll just stop it there.
What are you other non-believers like about using the term: god?
Am I the only unbeliever who doesn’t really mind using the word, thinking its meaning is multifarious, and can only be defined from individual to individual? Or does the mere term arouse repulsion in you (granted, on certain occasions, from me, repulsion, it evokes)? Is it even worth the conversation, or to be swept away in the darkest of closets?
Spare a penny, or a nickel, or a heaven, or a donkey’s ear for your thoughts?