God in creation, in the Thora and in my meditation
Reading from Psalms
Psalm 19
For the director of music. A psalm of/for David.
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
and makes its circuit to the other;
nothing is deprived of its warmth.
The Thora of “HE IS” is perfect, - refreshing the soul.
The statutes of “HE IS” are trustworthy, - making wise the simple.
The precepts of “HE IS” are right, - giving joy to the heart.
The commands of “HE IS” are radiant, - giving light to the eyes
The reverence for “HE IS” is pure, - enduring forever.
The decrees of “HE IS” are firm, - altogether righteous.
They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
By them your servant is warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern their own errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from wilful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.
May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
to “HE IS,”
my Rock and my Redeemer.
Experiencing "God"
Before the modern age, when nights were still dark, people often spent the evening outside, watching the spectacle of the stars on high. They watched the perfect order of the zodiac, the lunar cycle and the seasons of the year. The skies indicated when seeds could be sown, when animals would be born and when the harvest could be gathered in. In prehistoric society, people were literally watching a calendar in the sky that ruled the rhythms of their lives. I find it touching to see prehistorical burial mounds laid out along celestial lines across the landscape, or monuments like Stonehenge and the megalithic temples on Malta built to capture the cycles of sun and moon.
In Psalm 19:1-6, the author, taking the voice of the biblical shepherd-turned-king David, meditates on the sky above him. The sky is not God, but it shows the glory of God. “God” is not a name, like Zeus or Odin, it is a category. It is the unnamed force that shaped the universe. That is what David calls “God” (in Hebrew ‘El’ or ‘Elohim,’ and in Arabic ‘Allah’). In verses 7 to 9 he changes from ‘God’ to ‘YHWH.’ YHWH is not a name either but denotes the Hebrew verb form for “HE IS,” like the “I AM” in the story of Moses. It is not the God of creation, but the unnamed experience of God’s presence among the people of Israel. For David, the same power that regulated and supported life on earth, inspired the people of Israel to have laws and institutions that ordered society and protected its members. In the end of the psalm, it is an inner presence that he can speak with, that grounds him as his ‘rock’ and redeems him from the power of his sins over his life.
You can find something similar in Greek philosophy. Philosophers assumed that the intellect that rules the cosmosshould also rule the polis (the city-state) and the individual psyche. Stoic philosophers called this the logos, in the sense of the divine word or reason. Even though the Greeks had many myths about gods and goddesses, most philosophers would interpret these as story and metaphor. They would speak of ‘God’ (‘ho theos’), as the One, when they referred to the ultimate and nameless divine power.
David’s psalm is not a political or philosophical text. It is an intimate meditation, a communication with his inner rock, and a song of praise. David rejoices in this moment of harmony between the cosmos, the Thora and his own intentions.
In the Beginning
The word ‘God’ is associated in this Psalm with the works of God’s hands. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth,’ says Genesis 1:1. Or, in the opening words of the Gospel of John: ‘In the beginning, there was the logos, and the logos was with God, and God was the logos.’
Think about it: there was a beginning. It all began. Out of absolute nothingness and within an indivisible moment, space and time were born and expanded at the speed of the light, perfectly obeying the unspoken laws of a universe that would not have existed without them. It is in accordance with these laws that stars and galaxies were formed, that planets found their perfect shapes and orbits around their sun. And for some time, now in fact, a planet circling a star in a remote corner of this ever-expanding universe, was covered by a atmosphere: a translucent sheet of air and moist, shielding and stabilizing a watery surface. And there, in the place we now call ‘Earth,’ we began. ‘Life.’
We don’t know who or what caused this ‘big bang,’ or how many causes there were that produced it. Some today prefer to call it ‘nothing.’ For them, there is nothing beyond this reality and no one created anything. In the past, of course, ‘nothing’ was called ‘God.’ It is just a matter of definition. In fact, some philosophers and theologians would go on to say that God caused time and space to be and is therefore beyond time and place. He caused everything that exists to be and therefore is himself not existent. In other words, he is indeed ‘no-thing.’
The truth is, we can call this ultimate cause anything we want, as it is beyond our knowledge and existence. On the other hand, language matters. The word we use influences us in what we lead ourselves to think. If we say that ‘nothing’ caused the big bang, then we are tempted to think that science can study everything. We are then the inmates of our universe, content to think that there is nothing beyond it. If we define ‘God’ as the ultimate cause of the universe, then we are tempted to think that religious ideas about ‘God’ can help us understand the origins of our universe. But they can’t. For all our ideas about ‘God’ are expressed in language and stories that reflect our existence here, in this universe. Science and religion each have their own respective fields of enquiry and expression.
Sometimes, in antiquity, people were called ‘atheists’ not so much because they disputed the existence of God or gods – that would have been ‘irrational’ in those days -, but mostly because they did not believe them to be interested in humans and thought it useless to worship them. The authorities believed that this could upset the divine forces and lead to disasters for the city. Christian converts, for example, could be prosecuted for atheism if they stopped worshipping the patron gods of the city.
When do I speak of God?
The bottom-line is this: the word ‘God’ needs to be shared. If we are to share our thoughts and experiences, it helps when we share our definitions and experiences, rather than ascribe to the other what we believe or denounce. Almost everyone stands in awe before the universe. Most people share the drive towards a just, compassionate and sustainable society. Many find a source of healing, comfort, and inspiration within them. The author of the Psalm experiences a unity between these three, - the laws of the cosmos, the foundations for a good society and his own spiritual health. Do I experience that too? If so, then the cause of creation, the essence of humanity, and the spirit within me, could conceivably be defined as one God. Or in Christian terms as ‘Father, Son and Holy Spirit.’
Does it make sense to have faith in ‘God,’ and if so, in what kind of expression of God? God cannot be tested, for he is by definition beyond our existence. But faith in God can be tested to see if it holds a blessing for me and helps me to be a blessing to other living beings. We already discussed how Abraham tested faith: with his feet. These meditations are without value if they don’t extend to my walk in the garden or my behaviour in the street. Do I enjoy the beauty of life, the singing of birds, the waving of the grass? Do I notice the acts of friendliness and care of the people around me? Do I take care not to harm nature? Do I acknowledge other people in the train or in the office? Do I wish them well, am I available to listen or act when called upon? Can I honestly love myself?
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