OM 

This, then, is how you should pray: “‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one." (Matthew 6: 9-13) 

A sacred syllable of three phonemes: aa uu mm, representing creation, duration, and destruction of the universe.

In Vedic and related traditions OM is used to introduce readings of scripture and kataphatic prayer (kata: around, about, into, phatic: words). In the West OM is perhaps best known as a sound technique for apophatic meditation (apo: without, phatic: words).

For me prayer is praise and thanksgiving - especially through music - and conversation: story-telling, dialogue, jokes, dialectic...

A friend articulated his complaints and questions. I responded.

I have not responded so much to my friend as to the images his words prompted in my own mind.

I regret having come to the end of his complaints. I hope he has more.

I honor and sometimes envy those with apophatic discipline. Silence is not my strength.

I honor and sometimes envy those with a truly kataphatic discipline.  These are scholars with deep knowledge that folds into itself.  I am not a scholar.

Rather than apophatic or kataphatic, I seek a logophatic relationship with That Which Exists, where the images, words, and concepts emerge through me in a coherent living narrative.

Today in many churches the scripture assigned is 1 John 4: 7-21: "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God."

These words conform with my understanding of reality.  They do not yet emerge through me.  But this is the destination to which I aspire.

If God did exist why should we believe in him? 

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand — when I awake, I am still with you... Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139)

On a cloudy day I entered the unfamiliar church, knelt, prayed, then scanned the ornate late 19th Century interior.

The high altar stood in a tall, narrow chancel consisting mostly of stained glass.  Various saints ascended toward a sparkling throne from which Father, Son, and Holy Spirit presided. It was a miniature Saint-Chapelle. Seven brass sanctuary lamps flickered in the dimness.  There was a slight fragrance of sandalwood, frankincense, I may have imagined the myrrh.

As the organ prelude began - maybe the Bach Fugue in C minor - I had a slightly dizzy sense.  The sanctuary lamps seemed to pulse, then they were moving toward me.

I rubbed my eyes, but if anything the lamps were closer, brighter, more vivid.

Some interior voice suggested, "You are having a mystical experience."  It had been awhile.  I was not displeased, not afraid, but I was, probably, very erect in my seat and wide-eyed.

Then I realized: the clouds had begun to clear. The chancel was oscillating between light and darkness. Each strobe of light extended my depth of vision, each cloudy dimness reduced the same in rapid progression.

I sat back with a deep sigh, both relieved and disappointed.

We are mostly creatures of sensory experience.  What we perceive is what we believe.  We are innate empiricists.

We can and ought to discipline our perceiving: extending, sharpening, testing and confirming.  We can and ought avail ourselves of the perception of others: considering, questioning, attempting to recreate, confirming or denying.

Because I have experienced God, I believe in God.

A universe with a god is a very different place than a universe without one. 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer; by night, but I find no rest. (Psalm 22:1-2) 

According to Matthew's gospel the first words of this psalm were the last words of Jesus on the cross.

God is God.

The universe is the universe.  Or, I expect, the universes are the universes.

In each universe the preconditions are set, the potential in place.  Action unfolds. Some potentialities emerge, others recede.  I understand God is the ultimate cause.  The immediate causes are various and variable.

In this universe - I can imagine different realities - God's reign is a matter of our choice.

If we are in an open and vulnerable relationship with God, if we make ourselves knowable to God, our choices will be different than outside such a relationship.

From such choices unfold very different potentialities.

What's the difference between an unknowable god and no god? 

When I applied my mind to know wisdom and to observe the labor that is done on earth — people getting no sleep day or night — then I saw all that God has done. No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all their efforts to search it out, no one can discover its meaning. Even if the wise claim they know, they cannot really comprehend it. (Ecclesiastes 8:15-17)

I have been married for over thirty years. We have lived together longer than we were alive separately.

We remain in many ways unknown to each other.

There are aspects of my wife's orientation, motivation, and essential identity that are mysterious to me.

She surprises me.  She does not conform to my prior experience, my predictions, my "theory" of her.

She would surely say the same of me.

Is she knowable?  Am I knowable?

To some degree, yes.  I seem to know my wife more fully than I know our children, who I could observe from their beginning  and had some role in shaping.

I am in relationship with these barely known others. I am susceptible to influences - welcome and unwelcome - emerging from the otherness of my wife and children... and friends, colleagues, and total strangers.

Perhaps the critical issue is not that I should know them, but that I should endeavor in my relationship with them to be as open, vulnerable, and knowable as I can make myself.

Why does it matter whether god exists or not? 

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers...“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you... (John 15:5-6,9-12)

Each day I try to deepen my relationship with God, everyday I seek to draw more from the vine.

Each day I seek to become more like Jesus.

Each day I try to more closely align my living with fundamental principles of reality.

Each day I seek to become more fully at home in the universe.

If I had a mind for math, I might study equations. Instead I study parables, poetry, and song.

I perceive the vine in Newton, Darwin, Heisenberg, Lemaître, Schrödinger, and more. 

But as green and fruitful as science has been, I vaguely discern something even more verdant.

Last year my still-young grape vine produced its first significant fruit. But just before the grapes could be eaten, they withered. While fruit, branch, and vine remained connected something was missing.

I see and celebrate the connections made by science. I remain alert for what may be missing.

Our time is distinguished by wonderful achievements in the fields of scientific understanding and the technical application of those insights. Who would not be cheered by this? But let us not forget that human knowledge and skills alone cannot lead humanity to a happy and dignified life. Humanity has every reason to place the proclaimers of high moral standards and values above the discoverers of objective truth. What humanity owes to personalities like Buddha, Moses, and Jesus ranks for me higher than all the achievements of the enquiring and constructive mind. What these blessed men have given us we must guard and try to keep alive with all our strength if humanity is not to lose its dignity, the security of its existence, and its joy in living. (Albert Einstein, 1937)

The term god is too imprecise to think about. 

Praise the LORD, my soul. LORD my God, you are very great; you are clothed with splendor and majesty. The LORD wraps himself in light as with a garment; he stretches out the heavens like a tent and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters. He makes the clouds his chariot and rides on the wings of the wind. He makes winds his messengers, flames of fire his servants. (Psalm 104:1-4)

I am seldom - perhaps never - precise.

My home is full of slightly crooked shelves.

I perpetually neglect financial detail.

My writing wanders, rather than show I mostly tell.

I am a dilettante.

Perhaps this is why I enjoy thinking about God.

If god made the world, who made god?

א בְּרֵאשִׁית, בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים, אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם, וְאֵת הָאָרֶץ  

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

ב וְהָאָרֶץ, הָיְתָה תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ, וְחֹשֶׁךְ, עַל-פְּנֵי תְהוֹם; וְרוּחַ אֱלֹהִים, מְרַחֶפֶת עַל-פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם 

Now the earth was unformed and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters.

 ג וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי אוֹר; וַיְהִי-אוֹר  

And God said: 'Let there be light.' And there was light.

 ד וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאוֹר, כִּי-טוֹב; וַיַּבְדֵּל אֱלֹהִים, בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ 

And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness.

My own very loose translation:

Time began when God created space.
This planet's potential was chaotic, open, confused; God's conceiving framed a great flowing.
God conceived light.  There was light.
God perceived light and was glad.  God differentiated light from confusion.

With Augustine of Hippo I understand God is beyond time and space.

God is That Which Exists: one reasonable translation of Jehovah.

God is fundamental reality, source of creation, ultimate origin of cosmic laws.

With deists I understand God created chaos, complexity, emergence, order...

Unlike most deists I understand God is glad to be surprised.

God conceived light, but was uncertain if light would be good or bad until perceiving it.  God was glad it was good.  God might have been otherwise.

God set the preconditions for light, but light continues to delight (or not) in exploring and unfolding these divine preconditions.

With many I understand that God continues to be interested in the course of creation.

Unlike many I understand God remains outside time and space, God does not intervene directly to guide the unfolding of creation.

But my God is engaged with creation: ready to respond, to inspire, to participate in the choices I make - and each of us make - regarding preconditions and potential.

Who made me? God made me. Why did god make me? God made me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in heaven." - From my fifth grade catechism; I can recite it from memory. 

But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you... Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:28-31,37-38)

Sounds like the Baltimore Catechism.

I was raised in a religious tradition without a catechism, without explicit doctrine, and with a strong anti-doctrinal bias.  In this tradition we were each to become as priests.

At age 12 or 13 most of us - reluctantly - spent several Saturday afternoons in the pastor's office reviewing the Bible, especially the New Testament, learning to ask questions of scripture, and to recognize questions scripture was asking each of us.

At age 12 or 13 we were presumed to have entered the "age of reason" where we could examine scripture with sufficient critical skill and self-awareness to determine whether or not we were willing to enter into a committed relationship with God.

If we decided yes (clearly the "tribal" expectation) on a Sunday in the Spring the curtains behind the altar would be drawn back, the steel baptismal tub would be filled with about 4 feet of water, and dressed in white cotton robes each of us took our turn in the tub with the pastor.

Standing in the water, in front of family and neighbors, we were each asked if we were ready to commit ourselves to God and to one another and if we accepted Jesus as our savior.(If there were other questions, I have forgotten.)  Shivering in the cold water we would whisper yes and the pastor, with one hand holding the base of our skull, briefly immersed our whole body in the water, "in the name of Jesus."  We would walk up three steps out of the water and "into new life."

What can I say?  I am still asking questions of scripture. I am still listening for the questions scripture asks me. My commitment to God and neighbor is often lazy or double-minded, but the commitment continues to inform my decisions and actions.  I still understand that Jesus is my savior.

Whenever I run water into a bathtub I am reminded of the sound of the baptismal tub filling, the cleansing of sin, the renewal of relationship, and the invitation to new life.

One is very likely to share the faith of one's parents. 

For I have come to turn “a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—  a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household." (Matthew 10:35-36, quoting Micah 7:6)

Tribalism is an especially pernicious idol because it often assumes religious disguise.

Enticing religious accouterments are used to adorn ugly tribal prejudice.

But the conflict between idol worship and authentic worship is seldom fully obscured.

Too often we thoughtlessly adopt the idolatry of our family or tribe without asking questions, especially without asking religious questions.

Yet...

I love Armenian hymns and Russian pageantry and Greek icons and Jewish traditions.

I value Buddhist discipline, Islamic hospitality, and the subtle wisdom of the I Ching.

I celebrate my own Anglican customs.

The diversity of these essentially tribal traditions must also reflect the expansiveness of my God.

It is a conundrum.

So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. (Matthew 7:12)

Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself. (Confucius, Analects XV.24)

You should forgive and overlook: Do you not like God to forgive you? And Allah is The Merciful Forgiving. — Qur’an (Surah 24, "The Light," v. 22)

Love your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18)

Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful. —Udanavarga 5:18

When a child talks about his imaginary friend, we smile. When billions of people talk about their imaginary friend they expect others to take it seriously.

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them. (Mark 10:14-16) 

As children we are open to experience. We have not yet learned to filter, categorize, and selectively neglect. As children we authentically engage the constant complexity of creation.

Too often adults use religion to filter, categorize, and aggressively exclude or worse. This is not becoming as a little child.

A forensic analysis of my faith might reasonably conclude I have personified a sort of Freudian super-ego as God/Jesus; God as a psychological projection of my "oughts" and aspirations. I cannot disprove this analysis.

I can only report that I experience a persistent sense of abiding with something beyond my comprehension yet profoundly intimate. In this other I perceive a connectedness that infinitely extends.

There are moments or more when I perceive I am well-aligned with this otherness. In these moments I have a sense of greater awareness, wholeness and happiness. I understand this as God's reign.

I did not have a stereotypical imaginary friend. But around age seven or so, I earnestly prayed that God would preserve and protect my imagination. It is the first prayer I specifically recall. I prayed in particular that I be saved from the blindness and boredom I saw in so many adults.

The extraordinary claim of God's existence must be justified by extraordinary evidence. Awareness of god's existence doesn't count. 

Now Thomas (also known as Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe. ”A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” (John 20:24-27)

I do not make a claim regarding God's existence.

Claim [kleym] verb (used with object) 1. to demand by or as by virtue of a right; demand as a right or as due: to claim an estate by inheritance. 2. to assert and demand the recognition of (a right, title, possession, etc.); assert one's right to: to claim payment for services. 3. to assert or maintain as a fact: She claimed that he was telling the truth. 4. to require as due or fitting: to claim respect.

I do assert and maintain that God exists. But I cannot demonstrate a factual basis for this assertion. I do not demand or require that others share my perception of God's existence.

I would, if under attack, argue it is fitting for others to respect my sense of God's existence; but I do not claim any extraordinary privilege for religious belief over other beliefs or non-belief.

At dinner on Tuesday there were twelve of us around a large round table.  It was a mix of friends, colleagues, and the practically unknown.  Prompted by a colleague's sweet story of childhood memories of attending an Episcopal Church, I shared my own story.

I was in Philadelphia on Good Friday and chose to attend the noon service at a very high Episcopal church.

Over dinner I included more description and flourishes than I will here.  It was a beautifully austere liturgy reaching it's climax with a congregational procession to a very large crucifix before which we each kneeled or prostrated ourselves three times.  Then each person kissed the feet of Jesus.

This was a first-time experience for me.  I am not sure how I was heard.  But my intent was to communicate it as someone might tell the story of encountering an exotically beautiful, never-before-seen creature.

One of my friends immediate response was to ask, "Did they wash the feet between kisses?"

"No," I answered, "I guess I should have air-kissed his feet" and I mimicked kissing over our Chinese food.  Most of the table laughed.

But one man did not laugh.  He told me later my attitude disturbed him.  He had worked through the noon-hour on Good Friday and admired, perhaps envied, my piety.  But I seemed to be treating Jesus hanging on the cross as a joke.

Someone once called me a connoisseur of worship.  I hope so.  I love good food.  It makes me happy, especially to share, and often encourages laughter.  In December I attended a fabulous opera at Lincoln Center. The music and message was meaningful. It was also surprisingly funny.  I "attend" museums and galleries as much as church, some weeks more.  Fine, silly and weird art inspires me, opens me, and I often laugh in appreciation.

Each of these experiences can also cause me to sigh, occasionally to weep.  In all beauty there is an exquisite, fragile mystery.

From The Crucifixion by El Greco.

Before Copernicus people believed the earth was the center of the universe. Their belief did not make it so. 

Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth? (Ecclesiastes 3:18-21)

Before Johann Galle people understood the solar system consisted of seven planets. Their understanding did not make it so.

Belief can conceal reality. This tendency is not restricted to religious belief.

The greater part of the gospels consists of Jesus encouraging the most religious of his time and place to put aside various beliefs and look with fresh eyes and open ears for the reality of God.

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14)

Whenever religion or any human belief serves to exalt our (my) centrality, our (my) righteousness, our (my) wisdom, we should be skeptical.

The fundamental impulse of both faith and religion is to acknowledge the paucity of our understanding, capability, and power.

Faith is not certainty. Faith abides with doubt, especially self-doubt. Uncertainty is the fuel of faith.

 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. (I Corinthians 13:2)

Man created god when god was needed. It is time to move beyond that need. 

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)

In his most recent book, The Social Conquest of Earth, the great biologist Edward O. Wilson describes how across human history religion has contributed to social stability, in-group collaboration, survival, and great cultural achievements. But he also perceives these ancient benefits have been superseded. Too often, he suggests, religion is "no more than a tribe..." If religion is principally characterized by distinction from and antagonism toward other religions, then Wilson argues it is a biological trap that we need to move beyond.

Tribalism is also trap for religion.  It is a trap that many -- including Isaiah, Jesus, and Mohammed -- have warned against.  It is a trap that needs filling in for good.

Any God -- worth the name -- is beyond my full comprehension. The source of generative order, animating principle, creative dialectic, emergent reality cannot be fully framed by any scripture sermon, liturgy, or tribal claim. No matter how accurate a particular religious insight may be, no language or human conceptualization can define the infinite.

And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” (Exodus 33:19-20)

Each of the great traditions is an angle on That Which Exists.  Much as biology, chemistry, physics, mathematics and their subordinate specializations each tell us something particular regarding empirical reality, so do Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Taoism and more each have their unique claims and perspective on transcendent reality.

And That Which Exists said, "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you..." This morning the fragrance of honeysuckle is in the air, the stars glisten, a soft breeze caresses my face.  This same goodness is offered to all.

The god hypothesis cannot be verified, falsified, or contradicted. 

Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. (I Corinthians 1:23-25)

The hypothesis cannot be verified by any empirical method of which I am aware.

Depending on how the proposition is bounded, the hypothesis can be falsified or contradicted.

Empiricism requires some form of direct observation of the object or the object's influence.

Galileo saw Neptune, but treated it as a star. Most early astronomers altogether missed the planet -- 17 times the size of earth.

Until 1821 Neptune was absent. The solar system was fixed. Any additional planets could be falsified with considerable confidence.

But then we observed an unexpected variation in the orbit of Uranus and deduced the presence of an unseen planet. Only a quarter-century later did we confirm the mathematical "ghost" by direct observation.

Cartesian doubt, empiricism, and error elimination are all helpful tools. They also produce perpetually tentative results.

Thomas Kuhn wrote, "No theory ever solves all the puzzles with which it is confronted at a given time; nor are the solutions already achieved often perfect. On the contrary, it is just the incompleteness and imperfection of the existing data-theory fit that, at any given time, define many of the puzzles that characterize normal science. If any and every failure to fit were ground for theory rejection, all theories ought to be rejected at all times."

I vaguely perceive surprising variations in my experience. There is some unseen, so far undefinable influence. I hypothesize regarding God. I find it an interesting hypothesis. I do not claim God as empirically demonstrable given current conditions.

God is an unnecessary hypothesis.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1-5)

Logos is source. Logos is coincident with God. Logos is God.

Logos is generative order, animating principle, creative dialectic, emergent reality.

Albert Einstein said, "If something is in me which can be called religious then it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world..."

Does this structure imply an ethic? Much of the observed structure either emerges from or is manifested as relationships.

Are some relationships structurally stronger, better, more creative, more beautiful? If so, how do these relationships originate? How are they sustained?

Recently my son, who seems to share more similarities with his mother, asked what we share. I wrote back, "If my father had been more like me, I think I would be much more like you, and you would be much more like me. You are more like the me who is still trying to be."

Logos is an inevitable hypothesis.

The god question subverts the requirements of science. 

For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (I Corinthians 13:9-12)

Yes. So far.

Socrates/Plato differentiates between our sensory experience and the ideal.

Kant differentiates between phenomena and noumena. A phenomenon fits the requirements of science, it can be observed, tested, and in some way predicted. A noumenon is conceived but may not be sensed and even if sensed seems beyond testing and predicting.

There is an argument that science is well-matched for phenomenal reality but insufficient for noumenal reality.

The Higgs boson and other particles have been conceived. Some have sensed signs of their presence. They are being tested. They are not (yet) predictable. Some scientists argue they are beyond prediction.

If something cannot be predicted does that make it noumenal?

Dark Matter was conceived long before it was perceived or tested. The behavior of Dark Matter, as currently understood, is now fundamental to cosomological projections.

Was Dark Matter noumenal? Has it become phenomenal?

The God question does suggest mystery, power beyond predicting, a reality beyond time and space, something outside our knowing. 

Subvert is an interesting word: overturn, undermine, sabotage, disrupt. The original Latin means to turn under, as a plow turns under the soil.

The God question is intended to open up new ground, to expose our experience to new understanding.  If the question is used to bury further questions, it is misused.

Believing in god lets people off the hook. 

The word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai: “Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach against it, because its wickedness has come up before me.” But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish. He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for that port. After paying the fare, he went aboard and sailed for Tarshish to flee from the Lord. Then the Lord sent a great wind on the sea, and such a violent storm arose that the ship threatened to break up. (Jonah 1:1-4)

I'm not entirely sure what is being said.  But I'm guessing this is a critique of God as a "big daddy" who will set things right or, perhaps, God as an omniscient and micromanaging ruler who is ultimately responsible.

Does this cause some believers to transfer responsibility to God?  Probably, but not in my personal experience.

I have encountered many believers whose sometime passivity is cause for considerable guilt.  Guilt is a weirdly multi-pronged hook, hard to remove.

For many - guilty or not -  such passivity is perceived as a sin separating him or her from God.  In some cases this sense of sin motivates significant activity in order to re-claim God's favor, a motivation that most Christian theologians suggest only extends separation from God.

In quite a few cases the believer does not take action, is self-absorbed in guilt, and is unwilling to accept the grace of God.  It is a form of spiritual stasis, not just hooked but anchored.

In rather rare cases I have encountered grace-filled, guilt-free believers who are actively engaged in meaningful and measurable activity to serve their neighbors and God.  But while rare, I have actually known these people.  I have not met anyone who has articulated, "Well, it's awful, but it's God's will. So there's nothing I can do."

Last week I was stopped at a crowded intersection just before an interstate entrance ramp.  Weaving between three lanes of cars was a man who had lost both forearms.  In one of the metal clamps that had replaced each hand was a McDonald's cup extended to receive cash.

I was glad the light changed before he arrived at my car.  I did not want to be in relationship with him.

A few weeks ago in Philadelphia I passed a man begging outside a 7-11.  Without really thinking about it, I bought him a sandwich, drink, and a cookie. He smiled big and said "You're the man."  I made eye contact,  I smiled, but I did not say anything and walked on.  I did not know how to be in relationship with him.

As a matter of belief, I understand I am in relationship with each of these men and every fellow creature.  That's quite a hook.

We are not special to the universe. We are the artifact of evolution of our solar system, our planet, and our species.

וַיִּיצֶר יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאָדָם, עָפָר מִן-הָאֲדָמָה, וַיִּפַּח בְּאַפָּיו, נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים; וַיְהִי הָאָדָם, לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה. 

"Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." (Genesis 2:7 New International Version)

"That Which Exists formed humanity from the detritus of the planet's surface, breathing into being that which has become and is becoming." (Genesis 2:7 Alternative from the Hebrew)

I entirely agree with the second sentence.  How does that relate to the first sentence?

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered."(Matthew 10:29)

Are we privileged?  Are we so loved by God to be preserved from harm?  To be given our heart's desire?

Was Jesus? Was the sparrow?

Each was sold into violence.  Each fell to the ground and died.

Is each photon special?  Each neutron and electron? We give them increasing attention, fascinated by our inability to predict their behavior.

Does unpredictability imply freedom?  Does freedom bestow power?  Is it power that makes special?

Or is it the relationship of this photon with that neutron and those electrons that differentiates, distinguishes, creates specific value, produces an identifiable species?

We are all atheists when it comes to belief in the gods of the past, like zeus, mithras, thor. What is it about the abrahamic version of god that suggests that belief will persist? 

No one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved—even though only as one escaping through the flames. (1 Corinthians 3:11-15)

Which belief? Persist in what way? 

Christians and Muslims each perceive they (we) have perfected Judaism. Both Muslims and Jews argue that Trinitarian Christians are polytheists in denial. Most Muslims and many Jews are scandalized by the notion that "God" would submit to a tortuous death at human hands, and are offended by the claim this scandal has redeemed humankind. Some Jews and Christians view Islam as a hotpot of theological flotsom and jetsam barely held together by the beauty of Mohammed's poetry.

Each of the Abrahamic versions of God have changed and continue to change. Today Christianity and Islam are being radically transformed.  My grandchildren's (if any) belief (if any) will almost certainly be considerably different than my own.  The mainstream of each religious tradition is in flood. Where the channel may settle is too soon to tell.

God unfolds in human experience.  The fullness of God is far beyond our individual or collective capacity.  But to fully encounter this unfolding, even briefly, is to be released from our innate antinomies and to step into the noumenal: this life-in-itself.

We are all atheists when it comes to belief in the gods of the past, like zeus, mithras, thor. What is it about the abrahamic version of god that suggests that belief will persist? 

Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. So you do not know the very thing you worship—and this is what I will set out for you... “The God who made the world and everything in it... gives everyone life and breath and everything else... God did this so that we would seek him and grapple with him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’ (Acts 17: 22-28)

As a little boy I learned about King David and his God at Sunday School. At home I read about Theseus, Achilles, Ulysses and their gods. I did not reject these multiple gods. I sought to sympathetically engage my heroes' ground of being. The Greek gods often resonated with me more than David's.

Moving on to Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, and Epictetus, I recognized their exploration of the divine as similar to mine. Their gods -- occasionally God -- reflected aspects of my God and informed my understanding of a more expansive reality.

Nietzsche wrote, ""Wherever the Dionysian prevailed, the Apollonian was checked and destroyed.... wherever the first Dionysian onslaught was successfully withstood, the authority and majesty of the Delphic god Apollo exhibited itself as more rigid and menacing than ever." For me this is a recurring aspect of reality. In this context, I believe in Apollo and Dionysus. I experience their dialectic, I inhabit their relationship.

As an adolescent my favorite music was Also Sprach Zarathustra by Richard Strauss (via Stanley Kubrick). In the original, which inspired the tone poem, Nietzsche proclaimed, "God is dead." In the music I heard eternity and ultimate reality.

In his Zarathustra Nietzsche wrote, 

O man, take care! 
What does the deep midnight declare?
"I was asleep— 
From a deep dream I woke and swear:— 
The world is deep, 
Deeper than day had been aware. 
Deep is its woe— 
Joy—deeper yet than agony: 
Woe implores: Go! 
But all joy wants eternity— 
Wants deep, wants deep eternity. 

All religion is flawed, any serious believer will agree. This reality does not ipso facto negate the reality of God or deep dreams of eternity.

The man who is wise in spirit knows there is no god. The poor man knows there must be god. The powerful man uses god for his politics.

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God." (Luke 6:20)

I have most meaningfully opened to God when I have failed.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit for their's is the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 5:3)

In recognized and accepted vulnerability can be found profound strength.

I have a wisdom that can deny God. I have deployed a power that separates from God.

What is it to know? To perceive or understand as truth; to apprehend clearly and with certainty?

Un autre corps enseignant que l'intellect est nécessaire pour l'appréhension de la réalité. "Some other faculty than the intellect is necessary for the apprehension of reality." (Henri Bergson)

"Religion is to mysticism what popularization is to science." (ibid)

"What is truth?" (Pontius Pilate, John 18:38)