Gods and Imaginary Friends

The following is an excerpt from an extremely eloquent post by Chana. In it, she captures, with great power and honesty, the close, loving, trusting empathetic relationship which one forges with God.

The most intimate relationship we can form is when we expose this vulnerable part of ourselves to another, remove all masks or pretences, forget to consider what the other will think but simply continue as you truly are. It is the most frightening thing we ever do. We allow another to see us, to observe our nakedness, not of physical bodies but of our minds, hearts, souls. We do not need to speak to make ourselves heard. It this action that is so eloquent, and it is because it is so rare that it is always suspect, for people will give themselves over to base, vulgar ideas to avoid understanding.

How many people have we met that know us in this true sense? We are lucky if there is even one. One to see us as both our better self and the worst demon, the human being in his entirety. One to view us without shame. And one to whom we can be revealed.

And beyond people, who is it but God?

When you leave a lifetime of religious practice, many of the disruptions which you experience are easy to predict and obvious to observe. Certainly the ‘extrinsic’ challenges are tangible; leaving religion can disrupt virtually all of ones key interpersonal relationships, and can fundamentally alter how one identifies with the world at large.

But, as difficult as the extrinsic adjustments are, one of the most disorienting experiences of leaving faith, at least for myself, is the loss of the Personal God. The Personal God takes shape in our minds as we pass through life, listening to each thought, bearing witness to each deed. We converse endlessly with our God. Sometimes we plead. Sometimes we discuss our quandaries. Sometimes we celebrate our triumphs.

This God understands us as only a lifelong friend and confidant may. He empathizes with our difficulties. He cheers our moral victories and our personal achievements – even the secret ones of which no one else knows. He gently scolds our failings –understanding us nonetheless.

Each thought we have is not lost. It gains immortality in the eternal consciousness of God. Each minute deed that we do, or even intend to do, is credited and preserved everlasting. Our Personal God is omniscient – all knowing and all understanding of everything that is ourselves.

And, when you no longer believe? What a terrible loss. Your best friend and benfactor, the witness to all of your life struggles and achievements must now leave you. You are growing up, and the imaginary friends of childhood have no place in your adult world.

And yet, he remains.

“Go.” you say. “You don’t exist! You are not God! Go away!”

But he lingers. “Be reasonable, I am still the one who knows you best.”

“Who are you then? Why should I keep you with me?”

And, very slowly, through the reflection of years and the many turns of life, an answer begins to emerge.

“I am the consciousness which you created. I teach you not the mysteries of the ages, but that which you already know. I hold not a morality which comes from On High, but that which you have forged for yourself. As you advance, I thrive. As you choose, I guide. I am not the voice of ultimate good, but I am the reflection of what is best in your own self.”