Which God Would You Like?
How do religions attract paedophiles, extremists, bullies and holy warriors? At the same time, how can they foster mystics, the fervent, the pious and those who like to spend days in quiet reflection in benign surroundings?
Each of these makes god in his or her own image and likeness, but the thugs and extremists grab the headlines. They construct intricate theologies to justify victimisation, harassment and murder. They stoke their self-righteousness, oblivious to the harm they do to the well-being of humanity and religion itself.
Where do you start in creating a god in your own image and likeness? Look for one that will reveal itself to you personally, an experience that is resistant to the challenges of science and reason and justifies you shouting down the arguments of your friends in the pub.
It is useful to find someone who has had a revelation if you haven’t had one. There are plenty about. They range from anorexic ascetics, through to those out on release from hospitals working to adjust mental states.
You will recognise some of them by their hallucinogenic tales, or by their description of their god as it stepped out of the spacecraft, or that materialised on top of the rose bush marking the spot where they had buried next door’s cat that ate the poison in their garden ‘by accident’. Some of these founders may preach peace, tolerance, love and harmony: just like the Beatles used to sing. Don’t be anxious about this preaching, there are ways round it.
It will help the rest of mankind if you chose to follow a founder who does not seek universal domination. Remember also that your god should be for the whole of the human race and not just for those in your village or tribe or for the sole use of those enticed into the corral of an exclusive cult.
Consider your neighbours and avoid founders who preach bloodshed, thrive on hatred, or delight in cursing opponents and condemning anyone who disagrees with them.
You might stumble upon a humble, simple-living, loving founder who seems genuine. Don’t be anxious, followers will take over and introduce a strong vein of self-indulgent arrogance, backed up with bloodshed to prove their exclusive entitlement to truth.
In my book, The Devil to Pay, a group of young boys growing up in Ireland are introduced to a distorted version of god that is familiar to many. “Now that we had reached the age of reason (and could sin) we recognised God as our unpredictable adversary to be guarded against because of his sneaky ways and temper tantrums. Keeping on the right side of him became a continuous and ever-growing preoccupation in life, bolstered by prayerful apologies, rote practices and superstitious rituals. Our conditioning, until that point, under the control of parents and reinforced by the brutality of school, was surpassed in efficiency through the implanting of an internal pressure to which we surrendered. The tourniquet effect of that inner coercion would contort us in the same way wind and rain convulsed unprotected trees growing in exposed places.”
In later life, Tomas, the main character, realises, “We didn’t know that God would never be the problem. It was his henchmen we should have watched.”
That just about says it all.
Unless you want to know where God really is to be found.
