Reach Out and Touch Faith

Notes from a Reluctant Deist III

What would a cell in your body think if you told it that it was merely one infinitesimally small part of a much greater whole? The cell would have no idea what the hell you were talking about. After all, cells are busy little creatures. They have rich lives: they’re “born,” they work hard, reproduce, sometimes fight with other cells, and, eventually, die. In many ways, their lives are just like ours, minus Netflix.

If I was a cell, I’d be disinclined to believe your fairy tale. And the more you tried to convince me, the less I would believe. I’m a what now? A human is a who now? The creature you would be describing would be utterly incomprehensible to me. Hair? What’s hair? And what’s Netflix? Further, the idea that my entire life as a cell was about sustaining some vastly more powerful being would feel insulting. Like working at Twitter.

Then, what if you told me that the being of which I was a part was only one of billions of similar beings? And that there were untold numbers – numbers approaching something like infinity - of other beings, all of which depended on tiny little cells just like me? Could I, as a cell, even begin to wrap my stupid little cell brain around such a concept? Would I even want to?

No doubt some cells would believe you. They would like the idea of being some small part of something greater than themselves. Not me. I would demand proof. You would have none. “Trust me,” you’d say.

To which I respond, “Blow it out your ass.”

And then I’d probably try to eat you.

(Pictured above: me?)

Are we those cells? A lot of people certainly seem to think so. They like the idea that we’re part of something greater than ourselves, and have no problem ascribing to the belief. I was never that guy. I wanted proof. To me, the Bible or the Torah or the Koran were like different editions of an outdated science textbook that you might show that cell. So much would be laughably wrong. I mean, we used to think that cells were static entities that had no internal structure. We used to think that cells just sprang into existence from non-living matter. For millennia, we didn’t even know about cells. We were wrong about so much, and we’re undoubtedly wrong about so much now, yet we know the fundamental idea of cell theory is correct.

Is it the same with us? Are we merely a component of some much greater existence? This is a different conception than (at least my understanding of) traditional Western theology, which holds that there is God, and there are God’s creations, but that the two are separate; we’re made in God’s image but we’re not God. Suggesting otherwise might get you burned at the stake.

Yet a lot of people do suggest otherwise. Some Hindus, for example, believe that the true self, the Atman, is the same as the Brahman, which is the infinite universal consciousness. Taoism says something similar. Some Sufis do, too. A lot of New Agey crunchy granola types also believe in this monistic idea. Also, Depeche Mode has a song called “Personal Jesus,” which is – and this is an important point – a very good song.

I always had a problem with the dualist version of God because, like my cell, I found the idea insulting. If some dude is hanging back judging me and all my works for some inscrutable purpose, it puts me in a position where I’m running around all day trying to please some capricious boss. “Here’s an offering of meat, boss.”

“Sweet.”

“Here’s an offering of vegetables, boss.”

“Nah.”

What the fuck? The next thing you know, you murdered your brother. That’s no way to live.

But the monist version holds a lot more appeal, not only because it places a small spark of divinity within each of us, but because it confers unto* us a purpose, which is to work together in the service of, in a literal sense, ourselves. If we are the divine and the divine is us, then we serve each other when we serve the divine. It’s got a nice symmetry to it. Yet…

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Just because something is a neat idea doesn’t make it true. I mean, the idea that the Earth was the center of the universe was a pretty neat idea, too. Nice symmetry, pleasing to the ego. And totally wrong.

The cell might like the idea of working in concert with trillions of other cells to sustain something greater than itself, and in doing so, to sustain itself. But just because it’s, like, a totally mind-blowing idea, dude, doesn’t make it so. You’d still have to convince me that some higher power actually exists. How do you get there without relying wholly on that much-abused word “faith”? It’s tough. And I guess it’s a topic for another post.

*I just thought it’d be fun to write “unto”