For
the second time in two years a friend of mine has gone missing with
tragic results. At
times when horrible things like this happen
people can find it hard to relate to their Gods. I have heard many
people say "if there is a God then why ...?" They wonder how we're
supposed to trust them to reward our efforts or to look after us. I must
assume this comes from the "covenant" religions. In those religions,
mostly Western Abrahamic religions, the idea is that if we behave in a
certain way we will be rewarded, and in another we will be punished.
The problem with this particular type of thinking when it comes to an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent monotheistic GOD, is the belief that this entity has YOUR best interests in mind. This is impossible, because, by definition, it must also have the best interests of everyone else in mind as well. And then to give us the power of volition! We make choices, and sometimes we, and others, suffer for them. It's a limited way of thinking. The "God" in Atziluth is impersonal, because it's beyond such limitations as personality. This is why there can be no name, only titles and hints and formulae. We might as well be angry with the Higg's Field when things go badly as with the conscious universe.
When it comes to the Gods (which I place in Briah, the Archetypal world) they have individual consciousness. They are something to which we can relate. I think this is the true symbol of "the son" symbolism. We look at the tree and see Kether reflected in Tiphareth. We see the One Life Power distilled into personality forms with which we can relate.
Now when it comes to my relationship I don't rely on any other's covenant. There's no instruction of "do this and I'll give you that" or the bargaining "if I do this, will you give me that." Thinking about it this week my relationship with my Gods is very much the same as an adult child's relationship with their parents, and very different from that between a parent and a small child, or a slave and their King. (The forms of the Christian Mass come from the forms of address to the Persian Emperor. Lord of lords, King of Kings, very God of very God... and the whole space is set up like a throne room holding court.)
My Gods promise to me is simple, love, compassion, understanding, caring. They give advice, and act as confidants. They're a shoulder to cry on and a presence with whom to laugh and celebrate. Sometimes they even introduce me to new people, people I need to know, to teach, or learn from (or more often, both) just as any parent might. The Gods give guidance but never coerce. They occasionally give me a kick in the ass when necessary. They offer healing, both spiritual and to some extent physical, but not without expecting me to be part of the process. But mostly, just love, without conditions.
They are strength, encouragement, love, compassion, drive, direction, guidance, and occasionally the boot in the ass I need. They don't always bring what I want into my life, but it's always what I need, even if it takes many years to appreciate it's necessity.
For me, I love my Gods, those who have chosen me to be amongst their own. I want them to be proud of me, the same way I want my parents to be proud. When bad things happen, I don't blame the Gods, I blame the Chaos into which we are born and the "free choice" and personal volition that is the gift of us all. I cannot control someone else's choices, and most of the time, "bad things" are the result of someone else making a choice (or many people, in a complex web leading to a tragedy or other challenge that I must face).
I worship the Gods because I feel good doing so. I enjoy their presence, I enjoy their force, their power, their energy, and most of all, their love. It isn't a duty or a coupon card (go to temple x number of times... get into Heaven!). I talk to them because they DO answer me, not always explicitly, but always there is an answer.
If not for my Goddess, I would never have survived the last 20 years. I can guarantee that I would have given up fighting these illnesses a long time ago. The God I call Mother gave me the love and support I needed not to fall too deeply into despair, and the God I call Father gave me the strength and desire to endure. I am grateful.
When it comes to tragedy, though, I cannot blame them. Instead I rely on them even more. I rely on them to heal my heart, to strengthen me when my own strength fails, to witness my tears, and to fill me back up when the tears leave me empty.
I don't know if this little essay is of value to anyone, but when so many of us are grieving and seeking answers, I wanted to share just in case it helped someone else.
Bright Blessings, even in darkness.
The problem with this particular type of thinking when it comes to an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent monotheistic GOD, is the belief that this entity has YOUR best interests in mind. This is impossible, because, by definition, it must also have the best interests of everyone else in mind as well. And then to give us the power of volition! We make choices, and sometimes we, and others, suffer for them. It's a limited way of thinking. The "God" in Atziluth is impersonal, because it's beyond such limitations as personality. This is why there can be no name, only titles and hints and formulae. We might as well be angry with the Higg's Field when things go badly as with the conscious universe.
When it comes to the Gods (which I place in Briah, the Archetypal world) they have individual consciousness. They are something to which we can relate. I think this is the true symbol of "the son" symbolism. We look at the tree and see Kether reflected in Tiphareth. We see the One Life Power distilled into personality forms with which we can relate.
Now when it comes to my relationship I don't rely on any other's covenant. There's no instruction of "do this and I'll give you that" or the bargaining "if I do this, will you give me that." Thinking about it this week my relationship with my Gods is very much the same as an adult child's relationship with their parents, and very different from that between a parent and a small child, or a slave and their King. (The forms of the Christian Mass come from the forms of address to the Persian Emperor. Lord of lords, King of Kings, very God of very God... and the whole space is set up like a throne room holding court.)
My Gods promise to me is simple, love, compassion, understanding, caring. They give advice, and act as confidants. They're a shoulder to cry on and a presence with whom to laugh and celebrate. Sometimes they even introduce me to new people, people I need to know, to teach, or learn from (or more often, both) just as any parent might. The Gods give guidance but never coerce. They occasionally give me a kick in the ass when necessary. They offer healing, both spiritual and to some extent physical, but not without expecting me to be part of the process. But mostly, just love, without conditions.
They are strength, encouragement, love, compassion, drive, direction, guidance, and occasionally the boot in the ass I need. They don't always bring what I want into my life, but it's always what I need, even if it takes many years to appreciate it's necessity.
For me, I love my Gods, those who have chosen me to be amongst their own. I want them to be proud of me, the same way I want my parents to be proud. When bad things happen, I don't blame the Gods, I blame the Chaos into which we are born and the "free choice" and personal volition that is the gift of us all. I cannot control someone else's choices, and most of the time, "bad things" are the result of someone else making a choice (or many people, in a complex web leading to a tragedy or other challenge that I must face).
I worship the Gods because I feel good doing so. I enjoy their presence, I enjoy their force, their power, their energy, and most of all, their love. It isn't a duty or a coupon card (go to temple x number of times... get into Heaven!). I talk to them because they DO answer me, not always explicitly, but always there is an answer.
If not for my Goddess, I would never have survived the last 20 years. I can guarantee that I would have given up fighting these illnesses a long time ago. The God I call Mother gave me the love and support I needed not to fall too deeply into despair, and the God I call Father gave me the strength and desire to endure. I am grateful.
When it comes to tragedy, though, I cannot blame them. Instead I rely on them even more. I rely on them to heal my heart, to strengthen me when my own strength fails, to witness my tears, and to fill me back up when the tears leave me empty.
I don't know if this little essay is of value to anyone, but when so many of us are grieving and seeking answers, I wanted to share just in case it helped someone else.
Bright Blessings, even in darkness.