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Atheist Michael Shermer insists that a good percentage of people believe in God because such belief is "is comforting, relieving, consoling, and gives meaning and purpose to life" (source).
That doesn't work for me.
I can't help but believe in God, and I don't find the belief comforting. I find it challenging, and, at times, enraging.
"Where was God?" I demand, along with everyone else, when I contemplate the latest atrocity.
I think of the decade of prayers offered up by Amanda Berry, Michelle Knight, and Gina DeJesus, the women held captive in Ohio.
"Where were you?" I ask the God in whom I do believe.
My not-comforting, love-hate relationship with God has hit a new low, lately. I've been realizing that I don't want to go to Heaven. Or, at least, I've been realizing that I dread one motif that near death experiencers talk about.
There are those who have died, gone to the afterlife, and come back. Two famous recent near death experiencers are Anita Moorjani and Eben Alexander. You can read many near death experiences here.
One of the motifs of near death experiences is a feeling of profound understanding combined with profound love. Experiencers report that spiritual guides – or maybe God himself – reveal big truths to them, and everything makes sense. Oh, they realize, that is why I had to undergo those events that I thought were pointless. Oh, they realize, that person whom I had thought was my enemy was really my ally and teacher. Oh, they realize. All the chaos and suffering of life make sense!
In his book "Walking in the Garden of Souls," medium George Anderson wrote about a young man named Jeff Patterson.
When he was a high school student, Jeff was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Jeff received a bone marrow transplant. Jeff's body did not receive the transplant well. He experienced graft-versus-host condition. Jeff's skin began to disintegrate. Doctors tried to cover his raw flesh up with pig skin. Jeff screamed with constant pain. Jeff died anyway.
George Anderson made contact with Jeff's soul in the afterlife. Jeff reported that the spiritual growth he had attained going through these painful experiences was so valuable that if he had to, he would come back to earth and undergo that agony all over again.
There is a similar account of a person in pain dying and receiving great wisdom at the NDERF site. Anthony, a young orphan living a loveless life, kicked from one foster home to another, attempted suicide. He went to heaven and met God. God comforted him and explained to him that he had to go back to his earthly life.
Lately, I've been dealing with so much, I just dread that "Aha! Everything makes sense and it's all about love!" experience.
It begins to feel like that moment when everyone around you is laughing at a joke that you don't get, and, to be kind, they later explain it to you. Even with the explanation, it can still feel uncomfortable.
I just can't stand the thought of walking through those pearly gates and meeting happy God and saints and deceased family members, and hearing them say to me, "Ya know, all those hours that you spent alone wrestling with poverty and disease and the suffering of loved ones, we were up here laughing and smiling and slapping each other on the back and giving each other the high five, because we knew that all that you were trodding through was really all for the best."
The other day I stumbled upon a magnificent photograph of a great horned owl in flight. My instantaneous reaction was, "THAT. That is what I want. If I can encounter that in Heaven, I am willing to go."
What was that? What did I see in the photo? Reason, power, elegance. Rationality. Purpose. Design. Beauty. Poetry in muscle.
Right now, as miserable as I feel, I'd go to that heaven. Gladly.
That doesn't work for me.
I can't help but believe in God, and I don't find the belief comforting. I find it challenging, and, at times, enraging.
"Where was God?" I demand, along with everyone else, when I contemplate the latest atrocity.
I think of the decade of prayers offered up by Amanda Berry, Michelle Knight, and Gina DeJesus, the women held captive in Ohio.
"Where were you?" I ask the God in whom I do believe.
My not-comforting, love-hate relationship with God has hit a new low, lately. I've been realizing that I don't want to go to Heaven. Or, at least, I've been realizing that I dread one motif that near death experiencers talk about.
There are those who have died, gone to the afterlife, and come back. Two famous recent near death experiencers are Anita Moorjani and Eben Alexander. You can read many near death experiences here.
One of the motifs of near death experiences is a feeling of profound understanding combined with profound love. Experiencers report that spiritual guides – or maybe God himself – reveal big truths to them, and everything makes sense. Oh, they realize, that is why I had to undergo those events that I thought were pointless. Oh, they realize, that person whom I had thought was my enemy was really my ally and teacher. Oh, they realize. All the chaos and suffering of life make sense!
In his book "Walking in the Garden of Souls," medium George Anderson wrote about a young man named Jeff Patterson.
When he was a high school student, Jeff was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Jeff received a bone marrow transplant. Jeff's body did not receive the transplant well. He experienced graft-versus-host condition. Jeff's skin began to disintegrate. Doctors tried to cover his raw flesh up with pig skin. Jeff screamed with constant pain. Jeff died anyway.
George Anderson made contact with Jeff's soul in the afterlife. Jeff reported that the spiritual growth he had attained going through these painful experiences was so valuable that if he had to, he would come back to earth and undergo that agony all over again.
There is a similar account of a person in pain dying and receiving great wisdom at the NDERF site. Anthony, a young orphan living a loveless life, kicked from one foster home to another, attempted suicide. He went to heaven and met God. God comforted him and explained to him that he had to go back to his earthly life.
Lately, I've been dealing with so much, I just dread that "Aha! Everything makes sense and it's all about love!" experience.
It begins to feel like that moment when everyone around you is laughing at a joke that you don't get, and, to be kind, they later explain it to you. Even with the explanation, it can still feel uncomfortable.
I just can't stand the thought of walking through those pearly gates and meeting happy God and saints and deceased family members, and hearing them say to me, "Ya know, all those hours that you spent alone wrestling with poverty and disease and the suffering of loved ones, we were up here laughing and smiling and slapping each other on the back and giving each other the high five, because we knew that all that you were trodding through was really all for the best."
The other day I stumbled upon a magnificent photograph of a great horned owl in flight. My instantaneous reaction was, "THAT. That is what I want. If I can encounter that in Heaven, I am willing to go."
What was that? What did I see in the photo? Reason, power, elegance. Rationality. Purpose. Design. Beauty. Poetry in muscle.
Right now, as miserable as I feel, I'd go to that heaven. Gladly.
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| Diane Chenault Source |
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