Below are some random musings:

… a combination of philosophy and spiritual/theological inquiry, wrought from many years of philosophizing on, and studying the topics of metaphysics, consciousness, snd spirituality.

(go to…)

~ “What is God?”

~ “Spirituality vs Religion”

~ “(God is both) Inside and Outside of us” (from The Child on the Playground)

~~~ Spirituality vs Religion ~~~

Some lump spirituality and religion together, and indeed when both are properly aligned, that can be the case. Most of the time however, one or the other is viewed from a lens that is skewed. Here are some examples of what I mean…

Many who are religious (as well as many who are not) discount spirituality as “new-age nonsense involving crystals and energy fields and the like.” In reality, spirituality can be very practical. The bullet points given below, of differences between spirituality and religion, exemplify this fact.

Jesus was spiritual. He stood firmly against many religious leaders and sects of his time. He was quick to point out hypocrisy when he saw it. As such, his ministry might even be viewed as anti-religious! One might even say that he was the ultimate example of spiritual but not religious. It is in this connotation of “religious” — the negative side of it — that I give the below examples. They represent the extremes as well. In reality, people are, of course, a complex mixture of these polarities. Showing contrast with extremes, however, serves the purpose of cutting through that complexity.

  • The religious person sees his mistakes, and says: “I need to punish myself because I’ve done wrong… I need to be held accountable!”  The spiritual person, instead asks: “What are the pains in my past blocking me from acting the way I would want to?”

  • The religious person accepts what their religion tells them is “the truth,” while the spiritual person is always trying to gain a better understanding of what is true.

  • The religious person tends to be judgemental, looking down on the actions of others that don’t line up with values their religious organizations hold in esteem. The spiritual person realizes there are underlying reasons for said values, and tries to understand the motivations of those who go against them.

  • The religious person tends to gravitate toward extreme viewpoints, while the spiritual person tries to find balance.


In short, the practical side of spirituality is about self-growth. Such aspects of spiritual life are well documented in Yogic philosophy, which I have studied for a number of years now. They can be found in traditional religions as well, though much of the time are overshadowed by the aforementioned issues.



What is

God?

What is God? This question is intended for you, the reader, to ponder while reading. Hopefully you will then see what I am getting at, and how I think about these concepts.

First of all, when I refer to “what God is,” I am not (initially anyhow) speaking of those “intangible” characteristics many evangelical types like to refer to, such as “loving,” “honorable,” or “a father.” Of course, God encompasses all those things—much more, in fact. However, what I am talking about is a more tangible qualification of such concepts, including how, physically, our brains might connect with the eternal. I am speaking to what an understanding of spirituality in light of modern scientific knowledge might mean and look like.

I believe, that if we start from this point, then a more accurate understanding of truths in spirituality and religions will become clear. For instance, if we speak of an afterlife, we must first ask what part of “us” is transcendent. This type of thinking can help clear up many misconceptions religions and denominations might have concerning such topics.

Perhaps you are expecting a definitive answer to the fore-mentioned question. Of course, I do have some answers… that’s why I’m writing all this! However, part of my answer, is that no one has the complete answer.

Many traditional-religious types will mention hosts of intangible agents, without any qualifications as to what they actually are. Some examples of these are: “Jesus lives inside me,” the personification of “the trinity” (as if three separate entities, instead of terms representing different facets of the godhead,) and, speaking of the trinity, “the holy spirit came over me.” Now, it’s not that I don’t think those things are real, but I recognize they are terms used to describe something that happens, in part within the human psyche. The fore-mentioned traditionalists never stop to think that maybe other humans in other parts of the world, and other times in history have had similar experiences.

Regardless the specifics or merits of these phenomena, the bottom line is they must be processed through the brain, like every other human experience. If we invoke dualistic-type metaphysics implied by the aforementioned examples, we are left with a huge gap as to the mechanisms by which said spiritual entities interact with “us.” One thing modern scientific understanding—neurobiology in particular—has made clear, is that each and every thought and emotion is traceable to neurological activity in the central nervous system. Many point to this as proof there is nothing transcendent about us. I would point out, however, that thoughts are much different than what actually experiences them—what experiences everything (the taste of butterscotch, the feeling of tranquility, the color red, etc.) We can observe thoughts scientifically, as a cacophony of electrical signals created by neural networks. Perhaps even one day, we’ll be able to view some version of them, as they do in sci-fi movies. But the thing that actually knows those mental images is something entirely different—something I would deem transcendent. What I’m describing, is what many refer to as the “hard problem of consciousness.”

Jumping off from this point, we can posit that consciousness is, in fact, a fundamental property—perhaps the fundamental property… the ultimate reality, as opposed to material “stuff” being “all there is” at reality’s core. Viewing reality in this way—monistic, as opposed to dualistic, with some type of universal consciousness as primary—actually eliminates the “hard problem.” Following this understanding, I would think it is clear that God is the all encompassing truth which flows in, around, and through all existence. Universal consciousness either is God, or is a part of God.

//


INSIDE & OUT

The below is an excerpt from The Child on the Playground

… Unexpectedly, a solemn voice pronounces: “The answer can only be found within.”

I recoil in my seat, startled. I don’t recall turning the radio on. Did I?

Maybe I hit the knob getting back on the freeway? I hope that’s true. I’ve only been surprised at how this radio has spoken to me through selective broadcasts, but the possibility that it could manipulate the physical world is utterly unsettling.

I answer, only half-jokingly. “But I thought the child has the answers. And, I thought God was the answer!”

All joking aside, are we the authors of our own destiny, or is some invisible string pulling us toward a fate we cannot escape? Or do we achieve our true potential only when being pulled—led by the spirit?

I begin to see how these disparate concepts can coexist. The answer lies in one’s perception of spirituality. If God is separate from ourselves, existing somewhere out there, then those ideas cannot be reconciled.

But shouldn’t it be obvious that God is both outside and inside us? What does that really mean, considering everything is connected?

To know a separate, distant God, we’d have to pray loud enough, search hard enough, and be good enough. But for a God that is integral to our being, we merely need to look inside, at our true self.

If God is a part of ourselves—or at least part of God is part of us—then the answer is within, and the answer is God.

Who’s to say the magnetic pull I’d been experiencing is not some outside force, but rather an intrinsic part of my being—of everyone’s being? Isn’t this inner compass the most true and pure part of our nature? We fail to see this, preoccupied with our circumstances—the environment we grew up in, how much money we have, our material pursuits, careers and social standing. Who we truly are lies much deeper, transcending the superficial, the external.

To see that true self, we must transcend the distractions of everyday life. All major religious traditions speak of this transcendence. Jesus said, “Whoever loses his life because of me will find it.” A key tenant of Buddhism is relinquishing attachments. Atman—the universal self—is a basic Hindu concept.

I’m reminded of my shortened “accept what cannot be changed” version of the serenity prayer. I have no problem using the word “God,” and after all, I had asked for God’s help! However, I sense a deeper reason for abbreviating the prayer, beyond simple efficiency.

The radio chirps, as if searching for another signal on its own. A voice I now know to be Lewis Powers’ forces itself through the speakers.

“Where do yew find the courage? God! Where do yew find the wisdom? God! Most people think they can figure out the answers themselves. But only God has the answers! Most people try to control their lives. But when we’re in control, God is not!”

Although Powers sounds combative, the words themselves seem true. But something is wrong with them. What the hell is that something? Like an itch in the center of my back I cannot reach, this suspicion gnaws at me.

I am about to give up, when I think of the last phrase again: “When we’re in control, God is not.”

That’s it! It’s that same penchant for separating God from ourselves! Saying either we or God are in control, separates and distances God from ourselves! Wasn’t Jesus’ analogy of God being a father meant to show how close God really is?

Although, nowadays, families aren’t like they were in that culture. Fathers are no longer...

If God is also inside us, then saying “Accept, and find courage,” can mean the same thing as “God grant me courage.” If we realize anything good is of God, then it’s implied that God is doing the granting. If not, then finding the serenity, courage and wisdom becomes some deterministic task, void of any true power.

People like Lewis attach the word “God” to everything they possibly can. “Let me tell you what God did in my life. I see God working in that situation.” And God forbid, if you’re in that group and not dropping God into every other reference, then you’re not seeking God’s will in your life, and not giving God the glory.

Some people may need a preacher shouting like some angry taskmaster, “God is where you find the courage and wisdom.” But if people started to see God in themselves, then finding that courage and wisdom—and integrating spirituality into their lives—would come more naturally.

Content in these revelations, I focus instead on the invisible magnetic pull. The hand of God it must be! As I take a long deep breath, the sign for Route 70 comes into view.