• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 612 0

rather arrogant to believe that we fully comprehend what God is, or how God wants us to live. Even the Ten Commandments strikes me as a very limited version of what God must want us to understand, and it reminds me of the way we give simplistic commands to our pets. Instead of “Don't bite,” “No barking,” and “Heel,” we are told “Don't lie,” “Don't kill,” and “Honor the Sabbath.” Dogs often fail to carry out our commands, and people often fail to honor God's commands. Please understand that I am not in any way trying to belittle the holiness of God. I am merely pointing out that as incredible as God is, we can only hope to understand the smallest aspect of God. It's like the story of the blind men and the elephant. Each touches only a small part, and that is what they know. And when it comes to God, we are all partially blind.

This brings me to a final point in this allegorical comparison. Even though dogs can barely understand who we are and what we say, they are extremely compatible with us. If we show them love, they return it tenfold because they faithfully depend on us for their safety. Similarly, if we believe in God, we express great love and devotion and we hope that God will do the same. And even though we can barely understand God, many people faithfully depend on God for ultimate security and strength.

Faith steps in where understanding falls short. As a physician, I might not be certain if a cancer treatment will work, but I sincerely hope that it will. And I have faith that a patient's beliefs in the treatment will improve the odds of recovery. Physicists and astronomers do the same when they consider the universe in its entirety. They realize the incredible limitations of the mind to comprehend its truths, and yet they have faith in their hypotheses and beliefs. Scientists and theologians never give up the search.

Still, how do we ever know if our beliefs about the universe or about God are accurate or true? Wouldn't we have to experience and evaluate every possible perspective? And when it comes to spiritual truths, is there anyone who has fully read the sacred texts of every religion on Earth, or engaged in all of the rituals? Of course not! Even if we could test every religious belief and spiritual practice, each of us has a brain that will interpret the data and experiences in very different ways. There may be a universal or ultimate truth, but I doubt whether the limitations of the human mind will ever allow us to accurately perceive it or find any common ground, especially when it comes to the reality of God.

Admittedly, I find this conclusion somewhat disconcerting, but I try to stay focused on my optimism, believing there may be some way of getting to the answers of the really big questions in life. And as Mark and I have often stated, our faith is our strongest asset.

THE ULTIMATE METAPHOR

In looking at the positive side of our ability to understand our universe, I like to think of God as a metaphor for each person's search for ultimate meaning and truth. Financial and relationship stability may be a major goal for most people, but I believe that within each of us there is a primal drive to reach for something higher. We want to understand why we're here and what our purpose should be. We want to understand where we came from, and where we will eventually go. And we want to understand what reality actually is. With that understanding, we are then compelled to act in a more intuitively rational way.

Immanuel Kant called this the “categorical imperative,” the notion that we are essentially driven by reason to follow an intrinsic moral law. This concept was quickly adapted by other philosophers to reflect a divine voice that guided the human spirit into consciousness. But I see the human spirit as being driven by a cognitive imperative, and from the moment we are born, we strive to learn as much as we can about the world. That philosophical drive is biologically embedded in our brain.

Sometimes I think that my dog, Rock, may be a philosopher too, but only to the extent that he wonders where