Beyond Faith

I saw a large billboard in Memphis that said: “”There is proof that God exists.”

“Oh, really? “ I thought. “I’d like to see it.” Because either God is a cruel megalomaniac that lets his children run around killing each other, hurting each other, hating each other and fouling their nest, who takes the lives of innocent people and gives cancer to beautiful people while letting the scum of the species off the hook and allowing them to be elected to high places or he’s a deadbeat absentee father who just doesn’t care. Again, show me your proof.

 

But though I’ve never drunk the Kool Aid of blind faith, of believing because somebody insisted I should, of giving over my own intelligence and power to develop my own spirit and enlarge my own soul to some organized religion that wants my money and allegiance, in fact, I do believe that higher powers exist conveniently gathering under a three-letter word, but definitely not an anthropomorphic bearded and gendered entity. 

 

First off, I agree with most of the world’s spiritual practices before the monotheists grabbed power that God is plural, that there are multiple spiritual energies running through our bodies and through the natural world. I’m okay with some form of prayer or supplication to summon various deities to ask for help as needed, but I also know that none of them are dependable. After all, I petitioned them like crazy back in November and look what happened. 

 

But what is real for me is their presence when I don’t even consciously ask them to visit. Like last night in my dreams when I figured out the  songs for tonight’s opening to our Orff Levels Course, the order of events, the people who would lead certain parts of it, the new rhythm I would add to one piece, the shaker I should bring from home and off to the side of all that, the hangars I should bring to my hotel room. All of this in my sleep, the place where the spirits come to visit. This kind of thing happens so often— the next sentence in my book, the next body percussion pattern, the next ingredient I need for the meal I will cook— that it’s clear as day. God (in this form) is real. 

 

And quite specific. My hopes that the other world will manipulate events in this world like moving pieces on a chessboard so my team will win the game seems to be a total fantasy. (Though even here, what appears to be a disaster sometimes is a necessary part of a greater plan that leads to healing and redemption). But within my little sphere, my own contribution to that healing and redemption, those invisible presences are consistently reliable. 

 

Now back in the day world, time to back the shaker and the hangars and get ready for the next step toward restoring hope and beauty, in company with some 100 lovely souls from around the world. And of course, God (s).