FAITH WITHOUT FATHER
BEYOND GOD AND ATHEISM
An Alternative to Religion
For Doubters and Non‐Believers
* * *
By Sid Smolen
September 27, 2009
Faith Without Father was written during the nearly seven year period after I realized my need for God
was real, even if He isn’t. In it, I describe the set of ideas I’ve constructed to allow myself to become
spiritually comfortable without believing in God.
It begins with a discussion about faith in a general sense and Faith in the religious sense. Then, I describe
the articles and practices of what I’ve chosen to call my “Post Paternal Faith”.
I use “Post Paternal” in the sense of “after Father” since, unlike the major Western religious Faiths which
all depend on the existence and worship of Father, my Faith is self generated in an adult manner without
need of being a child to any Father. However, since my intent was to create an alternative to Father‐
based religion, on occasion I deliberately use religion‐like structures and language.
I’ll apologize in advance for two things. First, I truly do not mean to offend sincerely religious people who
abide by and practice their Faith. Through the course of writing this “treatise”, I have discovered a new
respect and kinship with those who spend time attending to their metaphysical needs. I have tried to
keep my non‐belief considerate and respectful, but I know that there are times when I fail.
Second, let me acknowledge the audacity and pretentiousness of this venture. I am completely
unqualified in every way to have a written a single word on the subjects I discuss, but for some reason,
I’ve spent much of my leisure time over the past several years not letting that get in my way. When I use
humor, it’s not to diminish or deprecate anyone but myself.
Faith Without Father is in three parts with an appendix:
PART ONE – FAITH, A FAITH, AND SEEING FAITH
PART TWO ‐ HAVING FAITH WITHOUT FATHER
PART THREE – FINDING GRACE WITHOUT GOD
APPENDIX – THE YEARNINGS MATRIX
Let us begin.
PART ONE – FAITH, A FAITH, AND SEEING FAITH
Faith is the product of desire
In Part One, I define and distinguish between faith, a Faith, and a seeing Faith. But I’m going to start by
talking about facts.
Facts are those things you have to believe, whether you like them or not. There’s not a lot of choice
when it comes to “we all get older until we die” or “precious vases fall to the ground when you drop
them”. No matter how fervently we might wish for them not to be true – they remain stubbornly so.
One could say we have knowledge of facts like aging and gravity.
Faith, on the other hand, is a belief in things which could be true, but which are not 100% supported by
facts. Faith is a choice, a decision to believe driven by a desire for the thing to be true.
For example, it is a fact that my name is Sidney Ray Smolen. Unless and until I change it, it doesn’t
matter how much I may dislike it, it is and will remain a fact.
But consider my belief that this treatise is clever and insightful. There are no facts whatsoever to
support this belief – but, since I want so much for it to be true, I choose to believe it. Sure, I know it
could be sophomoric drivel, but I don’t let that stop me. I have faith that my work is worthwhile and I
keep going.
In other words, my faith in my astuteness sustains me. And, like all faith, it is born and fueled by desire.
I really, really want to see myself (and have others see me) as a sage and original thinker, so I choose to
believe that I am.
We make these kinds of leaps all the time. I sincerely believe I will be safe when I get on the freeway. I
do have plenty of facts to rationally sustain that belief (I just got new brakes, I pay good attention) but I
fully realize that a tire could explode or I could get blindsided by a drunk driver. But, since I really want
to believe I will arrive at the office safely – I have an enabling faith that I will.
Rarely are beliefs purely fact or purely faith – most of them are a combination of both and fall
somewhere on what I have chosen to call the Fact/Faith Belief Continuum. Other than things like the
inevitability of aging and gravity, most belief rests on a foundation of both fact and faith and falls
somewhere on the Continuum.
You’ll find my highly technical graphic representation of the Belief Continuum on the next page..
BELIEF
BELIEF
My belief that my brakes will stop when I step on them is far to the “Fact” side (even though they could
fail, the facts of my recent brake job strongly suggest that they won’t). My belief in my philosophical
insightfulness is clearly to the “Faith” side, founded on precious few facts, sustained entirely by my
desire.
* * *
Now, let’s talk about “a Faith”.
A religious Faith is a codified set of beliefs and practices developed and perfected over time to deliver
metaphysical comfort to believers. By metaphysical comfort, I mean the sense that there is a steady
ground to walk on in an uncertain existence, that the “big” spiritual questions have been answered, that
there is a reliable source of guidance and a connection to something greater.
I know little about Christianity, far less about Islam, and even less than that about Buddhism. Still, it
seems like metaphysical comfort are the primary goals for each. Maybe the difference is that the
Father‐based religions ask you to turn to God as the source for that comfort and Buddhism teaches you
to step out of yourself and away from those demands altogether.
But, in any case, the codified set of beliefs and practices I call my “Post Paternal Faith” consistently
brings me to a place of spiritual comfort . And so I feel justified in calling it an upper‐case –“F” kind of
Faith.
* * *
Finally, I want to make a distinction between blind Faith and seeing Faith. When we use the phrase
“blind faith”, we mean belief in the complete absence of facts – a belief which is all the way to the
Desire end of the Continuum. We all use this tool from time to time – like “We’ll get through this
somehow” or “He wouldn’t lie to me”.
Notwithstanding the intellectual and institutional grandeur of organized religion, no one can point to
indisputable, scientifically verifiable evidence – facts – to prove that God exists. To me this is not in
itself a fatal flaw in arguing the merits of Father‐based religion. As you will see, I can’t provide any facts
in support the articles of my Post Paternal Faith either.
But I think there is an important difference. I know my Faith is only based on faith, not facts. It is a set
of beliefs I choose to adopt because I want them to be true, with eyes wide open, clearly seeing the non‐
existence of facts to support them. I see that they are only true for me because I want them to be true –
there’s nothing blind about it.
I could be wrong, but I don’t think one could have faith in the existence of God in the same way. Could
someone believe in God while acknowledging that His existence was only true because they wanted it to
be true?
My Post Paternal Faith sees quite well and freely admits that it is based on faith, not fact. My Faith is
not a blind‐faith Faith, it’s a seeing‐faith Faith. Yet, it’s a sustaining Faith for me.
PART TWO:
HAVING FAITH WITHOUT FATHER
Here are the articles of my Post Paternal Faith:
I. The Father Instinct Exists
II. It is Better to Think as an Adult than as a Child
III. The Hearing Mind is a Gift
IV. The Gift Must Be Affirmatively Accepted and Honored
V. The Gift Must Be Fulfilled
VI. There is a Common Core
VII. The Hearing Mind is a Flame
VIII. I Can Find Grace Without God
These are the beliefs I choose to hold because I desire spiritual comfort and they bring it to me…
I. The Father Instinct Exists
In the beginning, I was jogging on a beautiful sunny day when I was struck by yet another stubbornly
recurrent desire for God. I felt a powerful yearning for Him to look down and notice my virtuous
attempt at fitness. Normally, I would simply have dismissed this feeling and let it slip through the sieve
of my atheist mindset.
This time, though, I puzzled on why I felt that need. Why would I want God after all these years of
atheism where, where despite my continual attraction to and interest in religion, I never even once
came close to belief in God in any form?
And then the revelation: my subconscious mind was wanting an emotional experience of “divine”
approval similar to that I might have gotten from my father the first time he watched five‐year‐old me
successfully make it down the sidewalk on a two‐wheeler without crashing. I wanted the glow of
receiving approval from a “supreme being”.
This realization made me differentiate between my need for God and the factual nature of God’s
existence. I concluded that, regardless of what I thought about God, my need for Him was based on
something very real and that I had to do something about addressing that need.
So, in its essence, this treatise is my answer to the question “If not, God – then what?” I’ve spent all this
time working on it because I am certain that “nothing” is a bad answer to that question.
But before I go on, I should answer the obvious question: If I Yearn for God, why not just go ahead and
believe in Him? Why bother spending seven years constructing a silly Post Paternal Faith when there
are several other, time tested, quite popular Faiths readily available to me on every third street corner
in America?
Three reasons.
First, I think we can do better than to base such an important part of our lives – achieving metaphysical
comfort – on something which requires so much desire for it to be true. Seriously, even a firm believer
must admit that many Father‐based religious beliefs are as far from the Fact side of the Belief
Continuum as can be – Genesis, Heaven & Hell, The Burning Bush, Adam & Eve, and the Virgin Birth to
name just a few.
Second, despite its many contributions to the spiritual well being of the billions, I can’t get past the fact
that religion separates people. It does bring them together in groups, but it separates the groups from
each other.
Maybe it’s because the leap of faith to Father requires such a firm grip, but many of these religious
groups consider their religion to be the only True religion. This holding unavoidably leads such groups
to unpleasant conclusions about any other religious group – something along the lines of “one of us
must be wrong, and it isn’t me”. And, throughout history and in our present day, way too many of these
groups have gotten really angry, cruel, and destructive in their pursuit of these types of disagreements.
Finally, I believe that it is better to address all of life’s challenges – both physical and metaphysical – as
an adult rather than a child. Like the young person who gathers the courage to leave home and find his
way as an independent adult, I think it is growth and maturity to move beyond reliance on Father for
matters metaphysical.
* * *
Father Knows Best
A famous mid‐20th century TV show
By Father Instinct, I mean the impulse to turn to Father (or, more generically, a “supreme being”) to
satisfy the metaphysical needs created by our evolutionary endowment.
By metaphysical needs, I refer to the innate desires for things beyond the physical realm. So where we
have physical needs for food, water, sex, and shelter; and we have psychological needs for importance,
companionship, and sex – we have, in my formulation, metaphysical needs for Knowledge and
Connection.
By Knowledge, I mean the urges to know what we are, why we are here, and what we should do. By
Connection, I mean the desire to be connected to something larger than ourselves that loves and cares
for us. I believe these metaphysical needs come from the evolutionary forces that made human beings
human.
I think the urge to turn to Father originates in the helpless dependence of infancy and early childhood,
when we are indelibly imprinted with the presence and loving care of one or more all powerful, inerrant
parental supreme beings.
First, my theory on the origin of the metaphysical needs...
* * *
The Three Ignitions
At one point, the process of life ignited on earth – the first “Ignition”. Where once there was only
matter and energy, a unique combination of both emerged, capable of reproducing itself. It was a
mindlessly self‐propelling electro‐chemical process of “birth”, consumption, reproduction, and death.
Through the eons, through random mutations and the victories of survival, the process created
countless and ever more complex variations, some very successful (the cockroach), some less so (the
dinosaurs). As far as we know, until humans, each of these variations fulfilled the mandates of the life
process in the same rote manner as their predecessors, guided only by an inherent, unthinking need to
reproduce and survive.
Since the pre‐humans were probably the first to rely more on intelligence than quickness, strength, or
ferocity to survive, those who could think about “how” and recall previous experiences of “how‐not”
most likely did better than those who couldn’t. Intelligence became a key selection criteria and brain
function continued to increase.
Then, at some point, the second Ignition took place: the first humans began to hear themselves think.
Where once there were only primates instinctively doing the work of the life process, humans began to
hear themselves in the auditorium of their minds. Something speaking, something asking, something
listening, something making decisions – and the concept of “I” was born. I like to call it the “Hearing
Mind”.
One of the most important benefits of this inner dialogue was further developing the ability to think
about “how” things can be done. “How can I make a fire?” “How can I make a hut that won’t fall down
in the rain?”. Although their earlier brothers and many primates could do some of that (like sharpening
sticks or breaking nuts open on a rock), the evolutionarily successful early humans were the ones that
could do it better. The better huts, the warmer fires – the better chances of not getting diseases and
dying early.
And then the third Ignition: “why?”. At some point, some hairy human thought, “wait a minute – why
do blueberries grow on this side of the field rather than that side? In fact, why do they grow at all?
Does sunlight have anything to do with it? Water?” I submit for your consideration that, of all the living
creatures on this green and blue globe, only humans ask “why?”. And, I further submit that curious
early people did better than their incurious counterparts.
(Or maybe we are just the only ones with enough brain power to answer the questions. Clearly
monkeys and dogs make expressions that look like “whuuut?” – and, who knows, maybe they’re
perpetually irritated that the answer always comes back “damnit ‐ I just don’t know!”)
Anyway, at the same time, early humans, like most of their various mammalian relatives, are born
physically helpless, entirely dependent on mother’s milk and the warmth of parental swaddling.
Completely unable to feed or clothe themselves, infants have no choice but to need the care and
attention of adults. Humans begin life as the dependent charges of their parents or other caring adults.
Finally, early humans also found great value in tribal associations. Mutual protection, mating
opportunities, the benefits of cooperative labor, and the basic pleasures of the group. And, again, I
submit, that those prone to seek and enjoy community did better than those that didn’t – and they were
the ones who had babies and could protect them better once they had them.
In summary – the incurious, uncared for loner was, in large part, selected out of the human race while
the curious people who had a preference for tribe thrived and reproduced. We have inherent,
evolutionarily bestowed needs for learning and community. The desires for Knowledge and Connection
are in our DNA.
Eventually, these fundamental desires for Knowledge and Connection extended beyond the merely
physical (shelter, weapons, and crops) to the metaphysical (What am I compared to the wildebeest?
What happens when I die?). The very same brain capable of asking “why does this wood burns better
than that wood?” inevitably would ask the “why am I here?” and “what is right?” type questions. And it
would feel uncomfortable not knowing.
It’s easy to imagine people in the early villages and communities talking about these things, finding
comfort in their shared speculations and, ultimately codified beliefs. Gathering around a pre‐historic
campfire to hear the spiritualist talk about the gods, totems, spirits – whatever – seems an unavoidable
outcome of the fundamental, genetically advantageous yearnings for Knowledge and Connection.
Then, about 3,000 years ago somewhere in Mesopotamia, someone consolidated all these super‐beings
into a single Supreme Being – a Father. Since in many cultures and traditions a father/chieftan was
already in charge with respect to physical matters – this development had great intuitive resonance and
was destined for high popularity. But it wasn’t until about a thousand years later, when people started
believing He created a fleshly Son as His emissary on earth, that it really caught on. Several hundred
years later, His Prophet appeared to people elsewhere in the Middle East and the triumvirate of Father‐
based Western Religion was complete.
Each, a Faith to serve our genetically selected for and unavoidable yearnings for Knowledge and
Connection.
Next – why do we turn to Father to satisfy these yearnings?
* * *
He is alone.
Isolated in the vast, mysterious expanses of his universe, he is troubled and afraid. He begins to tremble,
fear and uncertainty overwhelm him.
He issues an urgent, fervent prayer for attention and relief, hoping, crying out for an answer.
Suddenly, as if in answer to this prayer, a brilliant light appears; his field of vision is overwhelmed from
above by an all‐powerful supreme being who envelops him in complete and perfect loving care.
Maybe he had gas, a wet diaper, or just felt an out‐of‐the womb moment of existential panic, but when
Mom or Dad turns on the nursery light and picks him up, the infant has just been comforted physically
and emotionally in a way that, for the rest of his life, he will want and expect to get. He has been
imprinted with the presence of a super‐powerful being in charge of his care and comfort – a “supreme”
being, if you will. This is the second half of the Father Instinct.
When I was a kid, I thought my dad was Superman. Then, when I got older, I
realized he was just a drunk with a cape.
Dave Attel
As Mr. Attel so poignantly observed, the viewpoint of a child towards his Parent can be somewhat
unrealistic. Needless to say, none of us have all‐powerful, inerrant parents who can guide and protect
us with their perfect, unconditional love. But to the one year old, it must surely seem that way.
Since we start out with the benefits of being the object of a supreme being’s love and attention, we
quite naturally yearn for those benefits once we encounter the more complex questions, troubles, and
mysteries of life in young adulthood. Even as we turn towards adulthood, when the going gets tough,
we still want our Daddy.
When this urge for the “supreme” parent of childhood combines with our evolutionarily endowed
quests for Knowledge and Connection – it becomes the Father Instinct.
Of course, I well understand that not everyone (or maybe not even most of us) grows up under the
loving care of both Mom and Dad. The “supreme” parent can be one or the other, two Moms, a
Grandpa, an older sibling, a village – for the purposes of my analogy, it doesn’t matter.
Even though it would have been more accurate to call it the “Parent” Instinct, I chose to call it the Father
Instinct because, in Western religion, God is the Father, not the Mother or Uncle.
(Somehow “God, the Uncle” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. In the reverse, think about how
much more ominous and totalitarian Father Sam would have seemed compared to the more benignly
interested Uncle Sam.)
So because we begin life under the impression we are in the presence of a supreme being, it’s very easy
to resume that belief later in life. It is, after all, a familiar and comfortable pattern. It’s natural and easy
to expect and believe there is a Father in charge, a Father to whom we can turn for that long‐lost
inerrant guidance, protection, knowledge, and unconditional love – to satisfy the genetically encoded
yearnings for Knowledge and Connection and feel better about our very existence.
Mix the metaphysical needs of adulthood and the experiential programming of childhood and you get
the Father Instinct.
II. It is Better to Think as an Adult than as a Child
When an infant turns up to meet its mother’s eyes, it is a bond of love for both of them that is
unequalled in our experience. When a toddler comes to daddy for help with his shoes, it’s a beautiful
exchange of caring and knowledge. When a teenager asks his father for advice about the opposite sex,
it’s all part of growing up.
But ultimately, for his own well being, that child must break away and become independent. He must
learn to be self‐reliant, responsible for his own life. We would regard with scorn an able bodied thirty
five year old living in his parents’ back room, letting his mom cook dinner while he plays video games
instead of working. “Grow Up!” we’d think, “get off your butt and go out there, take care of yourself,
and be a man!”
Thinking through life’s challenges as an adult is the clearly preferable alternative to taking a childish
view of events. We would all admire the unemployed young family man’s adult decision to go back to
school to gain marketable skills; we would all deplore his childish decision to drink beer all day with his
buddies and assume that something will come along.
Well, I feel the same way towards addressing our metaphysical needs. Yes, we have the Father Instinct –
it’s part of our DNA and our childhood experiences. But as long as we succumb to it, we remain
children, still asking Father for help.
Imagine No Religion…
Of course, John’s lyric was “Imagine there’s no heaven” – it’s only later that he says “…no religion too”.
But to me, “imagine no religion” is what he meant. I think he was suggesting that we imagine a world of
people who felt that their lives were not in God’s hands, that events were not part of His plan. That, in
fact, they were on their own to make of their lives that which they could imagine them to be.
* * *
The college freshman watches the taillights of his parents’ car heading for the interstate after he’s been
moved into the dormitory. He is struck with the powerful knowledge that he has entered into a new
state of being – independent, unsupervised, on his own.
He is both shaken and stimulated with the possibilities.
Does he head straight to the beer keg and all night parties, realizing with a thrill that, at last, no one is
really watching anymore? Or does he run to the dorm room, huddle under the blankets of his cold new
bed and tremble with the fear of being totally alone without the warm comforts of parental love,
guidance, and protection?
Or perhaps he fully experiences the bracing sensation of newly found freedom, of the realization that, for
the very first time, out of his parents’ home, he is an adult. And, simultaneously, he feels the ascendant
lift of accepting the humbling challenges and profound responsibilities inextricably connected to his new
adulthood.
I believe that each of us, and the world as a whole, could be a better place to be if we responded to the
Father Instinct with adult type thinking rather than turning as a child to a Heavenly Father.
Of course, this is an article of Faith, not based in any facts. I believe it rests on a solid inference – if
thinking as an adult is better for challenges in the physical realm, it follows that it would also be so in the
metaphysical realm. But again, ultimately, I choose to believe this because I want to believe it – and I
make no assertion that it is factually true.
In fact, I know that nearly everyone disagrees with me. I think I read somewhere that atheists (not
merely doubters or agnostics, but true non‐believers) are the smallest minority in America.
I’ll even make some counterarguments. Countries where religion has been banned are among history’s
worst places (like the former USSR). And, once the restriction is lifted, religion almost immediately
flourishes. A case can be made that people need religious authority to bolster their commitment to
behave in a moral manner. I have no doubt that religious belief provides a crucial basis of hope and
peace to those who suffer the oppressions of poverty and authoritarian regimes.
Yet, like the freshman above, assuming the mantle of self‐responsibility can be among life’s most
ennobling and exhilarating acts. Being productive and virtuous as a matter of choice is, to me, a higher
accomplishment than productivity and virtue achieved in response to Father’s command.
The next five Articles are my answer to “if not God, then what?”; sort of the “Beyond Atheism” part.
They are the beliefs that form my “sustaining Faith”, around which I organize an understanding and
satisfaction of the metaphysical needs.
III. The Hearing Mind is a Gift
The second article of my Faith is that I choose to think of the Hearing Mind as a Gift. The “giver” of this
Gift is the evolutionary processes which created the human brain ‐ a brain that can wonder why and
then come up with answers. Since we humans are the only creatures on earth (and almost certainly the
only ones in our solar system, most likely the only ones in our galaxy) that have been given this Gift,
having it makes me feel honored and special, my Post Paternal version of feeling blessed.
Now before you snicker and walk away at this third grade declaration of “I’m special!”, let me explain
why I’ve chosen to adopt this belief – then you can resume your snickering.
I think the metaphysical needs for Knowledge broadly go like this: What am I compared to everything
else? Why am I here? What should I do?
Father‐based religions offer very satisfying answers: you are one of God’s children, made in His image;
you are here as part of His plan; you should follow His word.
Now I have promised to reign in any tendency to be offensive to my religious friends, but I can’t help it
here. Doesn’t this sound awfully familiar? Sort of exactly like what a parent would tell his child, if the
child asked these questions?
What am I? Mommy and Daddy’s special child. Why am I here? Because Mommy and Daddy wanted a
child, so we made you. What should I do? Do exactly what we tell you, because we know what’s good
for you. Just because a powerful religious leader in distinctive garments provides this advice – it’s still
the knowing adult talking down to the wide‐eyed child.
The problem, of course, is that the real answers are much worse.
What am I compared to everything else? Not much really, just a momentary assemblage of matter and
energy, absolutely insignificant by any measure of the vastness of the physical universe or the unending
eons of time. Why am I here? Because the process of life seeks to replicate, so your parents had sex.
What should I do? Uhh, that’s sort of up to you.
It’s not just that no one is going to build grand cathedrals to these answers, it’s that they are
disappointing and really pretty hard to believe. With all that goes on in the Hearing Mind and the world
around us, how can we accept that we’re as meaningless as a dust bunny, nothing greater than an
indistinguishable cosmic flicker?
That just can’t be. It’s a form of cognitive dissonance that affects us all.
I think that’s because we can’t forget the first primal set of emotions imprinted in the virgin memories of
our infant mind; that we are in the care and control of an inerrant, all‐knowing supreme being(s). At
some level of our consciousness, we can’t forget being the object of their plans, how our safety, success,
and happiness were paramount to them. From the infant’s viewpoint, they see an infinite lake of life in
the care of a Supreme Being spreading out before them.
This made us feel important and immortal in a way we could never feel again once the realities of
physical existence became revealed in later childhood. That is, unless and until we can believe that we
have that same attention from an even bigger, more inerrant, more powerful supreme being – God, the
(new) Father who sees us, loves us, helps us, and has His plans for us, which even include infinite life
once we join with Him in Heaven.
Well, from me, that’s not it either. I understand the reality of being that indistinguishable cosmic flicker,
but I also know I am programmed to want to feel like a lot more than that.
So I chose to believe that I am the recipient of a holy Gift: the Hearing Mind. Of course it’s as silly as a
third grader – but it’s a fundamental post in the structure of my Post Paternal Faith – and without it, I’m
back to being a dust bunny.
So let’s look at this Gift and admire it, shall we? We can tell Beethoven from Bach, we can find joy from
the motionless excitement of a late inning ball game. We can write sonnets and build skyscrapers; we
can measure the distance to a far galaxy and we can try to imagine what that distance means. We can
know when we’re happy, know when we’re not, and we can try to figure out what to do about it.
The Hearing Mind is the highest expression of the life process on earth. It has existed for the slimmest
of time slices yet has produced an astonishing amount of physical and metaphysical wealth and well
being. It has unimaginable power to destroy, but it has equal power to achieve ever higher
accomplishments if we can summon the will to keep turning it in that direction.
In my quest for spiritual comfort, I have a sustaining faith that the Hearing Mind is a Gift – a Gift to be
deeply appreciated, reverently honored, and fully utilized.
IV. The Gift Must Be Affirmatively Accepted and Honored
If the Hearing Mind is a rare and precious Gift – then it follows that I should very graciously accept and
honor it. And this is my fourth article of Faith.
Now when I say “accept”, I don’t the resignation type of acceptance, as in “I accept my lack of baseball
talent”. Rather, I mean the kind of active acceptance one associates with a privilege – as in “I accept my
admission to the practice of law” or “I accept the rotating title of High Honcho of the Honorific Lodge of
Larry”.
And when I say “honor”, I mean a sort of humble reverence that engenders a sense of respectful care.
It’s not a plaque meant to gather dust in the basement – it’s a Gift of such spectacular proportions and
beauty, that it must be admired and polished daily.
It’s the kind of affirmative acceptance and honoring that, given the serious metaphysical nature of the
subject matter, should be accompanied by a medieval mono‐hum of Gregorian chant or a dark echoing
pipe organ fantasia filling a holy place. (Or maybe Inna Gada Da Vida – I’m not entirely sure.)
Sort of like:
“I, Sid Smolen, accept the Gift of the Hearing Mind with gratitude,
reverence, and a sense of duty. I marvel at its spectacular capacity, I am
humbled by its rarity and temporality. I will strive to honor it at all times
by fulfilling its immense potential.”
It’s like walking into a 15th Century church in Belgium, looking around at the soaring architecture, the
stained glass windows, the gilded instruments of worship, and being awed by all that you see.
Contemplating the existence of human consciousness is as mystical and overwhelming as the grandest
accomplishments of religious architecture. (The difference, of course, is that one is an inward
examination of the complex contours and caverns of the Hearing Mind, the other an outward
appreciation of the splendor of well arranged building materials.)
V. The Gift Must Be Fulfilled
If someone gave you an eight foot Steinway grand piano, would you be content to play “Chopsticks”? Of
course not – you’d feel compelled to perfect most if not all of the Beethoven Sonatas or, if you had
hands of my size and dexterity, at least be able to play the chords to all the Beatles’ songs.
The point is that it is just plain ungrateful and lazy to leave a wondrous gift unused and gathering dust.
And, since I believe the Hearing Mind is just such a Gift, I also believe we have an unavoidable duty to
utilize it as fully as possible. It is in this way that we ultimately honor our receipt of it.
In my Post Paternal Faith, I believe that the Gift of the Hearing Mind is most completely honored and
fulfilled by:
• Continuing to Become
• Aspiring to Virtue
• Finding the Enjoyment
To complete my prior oath of Acceptance…
“I, Sid Smolen, accept the Gift of the Hearing Mind with gratitude,
reverence, and a sense of duty. I marvel at its spectacular capacity, I am
humbled by its rarity and temporality.
I accept the Obligations that accompany this Gift. I impose upon myself
the obligations to Fulfill its potential by Continuing to Become, by
Aspiring to Virtue, and by Finding the Enjoyment ”
Once I explain what I mean by these things, I’ll talk about how they work together for me, ebbing and
flowing, to create the metaphysical contentment I seek.
• Continuing to Become
“He not busy being born is busy dying.”
Bob Dylan
It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
Of any phrase from the annals of pop music, I believe this one has had the most significant and lasting
impact on me. It is so profoundly true and important, so succinctly put and means as much to me (or
more) at 61 as when I first heard it in my teens.
We can take time out, for sure. Watch a Dodger game, snorkel in the Caribbean, have drinks with loved
ones (see “Finding the Enjoyment”). But in the bigger picture, I believe that responsibly fulfilling the Gift
requires diligent, persistent, and ongoing becoming. I imagine that day it stops is, quite literally, the day
I see my oncoming death and even then, I hope I will find a way to Become at peace with its inevitability.
And, it will come as no surprise when I say I believe that adopting Post Paternal views and practices is a
critical part of my Becoming.
• Aspiring to Virtue
I have a powerful, unshakable faith that we have a solemn and unavoidable duty to try to do the right
thing in this world. And, I think most people would agree with me, at least in principle.
Further, I think that most people have an innate understanding of what the right thing is most of the
time. Being truthful, considerate, helpful – we all understand the rightness and the value. The
challenge, of course, is to consistently and diligently put that understanding into practice.
I think my religious friends would find the source for this rightness in God’s Word, His Commandments.
As a Post‐Paternalist (?), the source for me is my simple faith in their rightness. I aspire to behave in a
virtuous manner because I have faith that the outcome will be, at least most of the time, that I have
“done the right thing”.
These are some of the Virtues to which I aspire:
Self‐Reliance
Kindness
Civility
Compassion
Honesty
Fairness
Courage
Open Mindedness
Humility
Reverence
Fitness
In case you might be thinking they sound curiously similar to the Boy Scout Law, I checked. Scouts are
TRUSTWORTHY, LOYAL, HELPFUL, FRIENDLY, COURTEOUS, KIND, OBEDIENT, CHEERFUL, THRIFTY, BRAVE,
CLEAN, and REVERENT. Pretty close, really, with a few exceptions.
At first, I actually was thinking that I’d hold forth on each one of these in full pretentious detail, but then
a better voice said – is that really necessary? That voice said – if someone has read this far, they’ve
suffered enough. I had to agree – so I decided I wouldn’t make you read my definition of compassion or
courage.
The point is, everybody knows what these things mean. According to legend, the great Louis Armstrong
was once asked “what is jazz?” His answer resounds through the ages and applies here: “if you have to
ask, you’ll never know.”
Really, there’s not much mystery about the meaning of kindness – anyone who really doesn’t know
needs serious help. It’s just that we don’t practice it as often as we should.
Yes, there are nuances that could spawn a long discussion. Like, is it a kindness to issue a white lie about
the relationship of the garment to the dimensions of the body over which it has been stretched? Or
would a more truthful assessment be just what the other person needs to begin that long needed
adjustment of caloric intake?
I’m sure the conversation would be fun and worthwhile. You can even check for yourself, as I’ve
decided to make “Why Is Fitness a Virtue?” one of the first subjects of my next work: Further
Conversations. (I know, my public breathlessly awaits.)
But even without a detailed analysis to support it, if you aspire to kindness rather than indifference or
cruelty, you’re quite likely to make yourself and the world a better place to be. Same for aspirations of
civility, open‐mindedness, fairness – the whole list: if you are trying to decide whether or not to do a
certain thing, it is useful to ask yourself “would doing it make both me and the world a better place to
be?”
The “and” part is important, as it tempers self indulgence in the search for happiness. The obnoxious
fellow who lights up a big fat, phallic cigar in close proximity to those who have not assented to that
particular assault on their nasal passages may be having fun.
But, he is most assuredly not making the world around him a better place to be. Twenty other people’s
relaxation has been spoiled and maybe one of them even drives off in a drunken huff and crashes his car
or yells at his kid for no reason.
“My act is moral if makes both me and the world a better place to be.”
It’s a small, obvious principle, but I will say that in the practice of my Faith – in particular the Aspiring to
Virtue component – it serves me very well.
• Finding the Enjoyment
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy”
Bobby McFerrin
No mystery here – find the fun when you can; life is too short not to have fun; life is too long not to have
fun. I’ll spare you the remaining clichés.
A virtuous and accomplished person who doesn’t know how to have fun or make light of himself is sadly
and boringly incomplete; a fun loving person with a string of accomplishments who treats others poorly
is a self centered bastard; a joyful and virtuous person who hasn’t advanced his intellect or gained
wisdom has a shallow existence skipping lightly along the edges of his Hearing Mind.
I have faith that Fulfilling the Gift – the mandate attached to accepting it – requires a conscious
attention to Continuously Becoming, Aspiring to Virtue, and Finding the Enjoyment.
VI. There is a Common Core
Article VI of my Faith is that I believe that the great majority of us humans have a Common Core of
desires and convictions. While religious differences often separate us, the needs and instincts that
create religious belief and ethical behavior come from the same place. I think that the place just may be
the “three legged stool” I’ve just described as Fulfilling the Gift – Continuing to Become, Aspiring to
Virtue, and Finding the Enjoyment.
At some level, I believe that most people admire and pursue accomplishment, aspire to moral behavior,
and see the benefits of having fun. The evolutionary advantages of these qualities are obvious; the
occurrence of them is universal. As a bit of opposite evidence, go through your mental list of cultures
which do not value all three. Then ask yourself, isn’t every one of them bleak, primitive and by
necessity, ruled by fear and oppression?
I think the Common Core is what we mean when we say “he’s a good person” (or its grammatically
homely cousin “he’s good people”). It’s often said in a way that suggests “even though he may be
different than me, or may have done something I wouldn’t have done – I sense his basic adherence to
an amorphous set of qualities of “goodness” that we somehow all share.” In my Post Paternal parlance,
“he’s a good person” means “he tries to Fulfill the Gift”.
I think about the connection I feel to two co‐workers. One is a rigorously practicing Muslim, the other a
sincere Christian, active in his church. I know that their Faith plays a significant role in both of their lives.
In ways metaphysical, I feel much more in common with them than I do with other co‐workers, whose
material life styles are much closer to my own. On one level, our commonality is that the three of us
feel the metaphysical needs in a powerful way and each of us spends a lot of our time dealing with
them.
But, more importantly, the three of us share a set of values that are entirely independent of the means
by which we seek to address the metaphysical needs – we are, each in our own way – trying to Fulfill the
Gift. Notwithstanding our stark religious differences, I think we may each be on the same highway,
heading towards the same destination, but just in different types of cars.
I think we (and a whole lot of other people) have a Common Core.
VII. The Hearing Mind is a Flame
I believe that nothing of me will survive the expiration of my physical being. I love the idea of Heaven,
but no matter how much I yearn for it to be true, it’s so far to the Desire side of the Belief Continuum – I
just can’t get there.
It’s much easier for me to think of my Hearing Mind as being like a flame. Both things seem like they
are really tangible things when they are there, but really, each is just a by‐product of mass being
processed into energy.
Flame is the heat and light created by the combustion of that which is burning. On one hand, it seems
like something you could pick up and carry away, that it exists independently and separately from the
wood. But, of course, common experience says when the wood is gone, so is the fire.
I believe the Hearing Mind is exactly like that. “I” am the result of brain activity created and sustained
by the various mechanical components and processes of the body – air, water, and food in, lungs
breathing, intestines absorbing, blood circulating, cells dividing, chemicals transmitting. And when
those processes stop, the “me” goes away, just like the flame stops when the wood runs out.
I agree, it doesn’t seem right. Flame really does seem like something, doesn’t it? Didn’t the ancients
consider it one of the four elements? Aren’t I something more than meat, pipes, electricity, and brain
chemicals?
Couldn’t Father take “me” out of the machine and bring me to Heaven? Couldn’t camper Bob take the
fire out of the burning logs and bring it back to his tent?
On one level, there is a sadness to the obvious answers to these questions. Yet, I have learned to find
great comfort in this metaphor, again – to be discussed in Part Two.
VIII. I Can Find Grace Without God
In my rudimentary religious understanding, “grace” means being the object of God’s love and
forgiveness, no matter who you are or what you’ve done – “even a wretch like me” – as long as you
believe in Him, accept Him in your heart, and try to follow His word. (By this point, it would be too
obvious to compare this to the small child coming to daddy in tears, getting his daddy’s forgiveness and
guidance, and the child’s resulting emotions of joy and relief – right?)
I have chosen to co‐opt the word “grace” in my Post Paternal Faith to mean the achievement of calm,
joy, and resolution in the quest for metaphysical Knowledge and Connection. Whether these feelings
are generated by the imaging of God’s grace or the practice of my Post Paternal Faith – I believe those of
us in the Common Core share the same desire for these feelings.
Part Three, which follows, describes how I find Grace Without God.
PART THREE:
FINDING GRACE WITHOUT GOD
In my middle thirties, I started getting fat. Like so many people, I tried diets, lost a few pounds, resumed
prior eating patterns and gained them right back. My parents were both on the heavy side and I was
determined to avoid that genetic destiny. Not much I could do about being short or balding – but, damn
it, I could stop eating food that made me fat.
And so I did. I completely gave up red meat, fried foods, pastries and the like. Chicken, fish, vegetables,
fruits, whole grains – that’s pretty much been it for the last twenty five years. Admittedly, the first five
or ten years were hard, but ultimately, the satisfactions of permanent weight loss provided the fuel for
largely effortless self control. Eventually, the idea of eating a cheeseburger or a glazed donut, as
irresistible as it had been before, became a distant memory. Finally, ordering a Double‐Double and fries
for lunch seemed as ridiculous as ordering a pack of double A batteries for dinner – neither being
something I would consider putting in my mouth and chewing.
My point here is not to proselytize my eating style (although, in combination with jogging, it has, for the
most part, defeated my genetic destiny to be pudgy), but rather to point to an example in my life where
decades of ingrained behavior patterns were, by determined self discipline, permanently changed for
the better.
I feel the same way about my Post Paternal Faith, except that it’s thought habits rather than eating
habits that needed changing. After many years of struggling with the conflict between my desire for
God and my refusal to believe in Him, I changed my thinking patterns and won the battle. I taught
myself to use Post Paternal Thought Structures to respond the Father Instinct and to find periods of Self
Induced Grace. By the practiced and consistent use of Post Paternal Thought Structures – my longing for
Father, like my old appetite for donuts, has become a fading memory.
Neither was easy. Evolutionary forces created a predilection for calorie rich food, as the hunter gatherer
frequently went long periods between meals. And, other evolutionary forces along with the experiences
of infancy and early childhood combined created the powerful Father Instinct.
Not to mention, our language and culture are saturated with God. Try to find a clause equivalent to
“Omigod!” or “Thank God” or even “God damn it!” to compactly convey a similar level of deep surprise,
gratitude, or irritation. Try to go six blocks without seeing a church, seven innings without hearing God
Bless America, paying cash for a tall coffee without being reminded that “In God We Trust”, or even
sneezing without getting someone’s well intentioned request that “God Bless You”.
Speaking and thinking without reference to God is not as easy as it sounds. At one point, I thought I’d
develop some alternative phrases to replace the “omigod”s and “goddammit’s” in my everyday
vocabulary – but that just got silly.
I raise all this to point out how ingrained we are with Father‐based thought structures. Until recently,
even I, the lifelong atheist, could not help but experience a lovely wave of “thank God” when in the
thrall of a spectacular mountain vista. I vividly recall the powerful urges to pray to God for my sons’ well
being in their various times of crisis. In each case, I slapped myself back to my atheistic mindset, but I
had nothing to replace or substitute for these emotional resolutions.
But now I have my Faith without Father, my Post Paternal Faith. I’m pretty sure it can’t deliver the same
rich emotional brew that I imagine is provided by religious Faith, but like tofu instead of bacon, I think
it’s a better way to satisfy the appetite.
(Actually, I eat a little turkey bacon, but I didn’t think it was as good of a simile.)
I have chosen to describe the emotional payoff of my Post Paternal Faith with the contradictory phrase
“Grace without God”. By this phrase I mean to convey my alternative to the sense of deep joy and
peace that I imagine one feels in the loving embrace of a caring Father.
So here are my Post Paternal Thought Structures by which I seek Grace Without God. They are “adult”
thought patterns, in that they do not depend on the Father/Child relationship. They are thought
structures for satisfying the metaphysical questions and yearnings in a Post Paternal way.
They are:
I. I am Holy, I am Blessed
II. Connect to the Common Core (Love in Common)
III. It’s Because of DeMeRa
IV. The Infinite Zoom
V. The Flame Goes Out (Letting Go)
VI. It is Worth It
VII. It’s All Up To Me
They get me to where I want to be – I feel happy, the questions are resolved, the yearnings satisfied. All
on my own, not as a child to Father, but as an independent, strong, self‐sustaining Post Paternal person.
These Post Paternal Thought Structures mostly address the Becoming and Finding the Happiness legs of
my “three legged stool” I use to Fulfill the Gift. (In case you forgot, the other “leg” was Aspiring to
Virtue.)
I. I Am Holy, I am Blessed
Like receiving a Gift without a giver, I am Holy without God, I am Blessed without a Father’s bestowal.
Holy, as in the possessor, user, and beneficiary of language, art, science, and democracy amid the
unimaginably vast and silent expanse of rock, dust, and empty space that is the known physical universe.
Blessed, as in living in the western world in 2009 with plentiful clean water, healthy food, iPhones, and
baseball.
Holy, as in being the object of love and admiration from people with whom I’m connected; blessed to be
connected to them.
Holy, in my ability to think, write, play music, and be astounded by the majesty of the natural world;
blessed to be disease free (for now, anyway), genetically sound, financially comfortable, and to be able
to see all the beauty around me.
I could go on – but I’m guessing you’d just as soon I stop. My point, though, is simple: I don’t need God
to exist for me to experience the feelings I think people mean when they use the word holy, I don’t need
Father’s blessing to experience the sensations of being blessed. I can (and do) use Post Paternal
Thought Structures to get to the same place.
II. Connect to the Common Core
It’s Thanksgiving dinner and the whole family is there. Mom, Dad, sisters and brothers, cousins,
grandparents, aunts and uncles.
As Dad carves the turkey, the small children, still in their blissful ignorance of the complex realities of
family dynamics, feel a loving connection among all their dinner companion, a sense of being united in a
love for Dad – in a powerful Love in Common.
This is about the fundamental DNA thirst for Connection. From watching Dad carve the Thanksgiving
turkey dinner with our family around the table to cheering with strangers at a late inning Dodger rally at
the Stadium, we are programmed to find great satisfaction being in the presence of those who love
what we love.
I feel certain that religious people experience a particular beautiful pleasure of connection when in the
presence of others who love the same Father in the same way. It’s no accident that the LA freeways are
navigable on Sunday mornings or that the bars are crowded for Super Bowl. In each case (religious
worship and the sporting event), people are brought together by a “Love in Common”. We love our
Father, we love our team – and we love being with other people who also love our Father and love our
team.
It’s tribe, it’s connection. The power of Love in Common explains nationalism and cults of personality; it
explains Beatlemania and political volunteerism; it explains soccer hooliganism, it explains company
loyalty. Whether it’s harnessed for good or for mayhem, we are all instinctively prone to it.
So far, my Post Paternal Faith has a congregation of one – so I don’t get a lot of inter‐personal
connections in my practice of it. But I do try to find a Love in Common with the Common Core with the
people I meet.
When I’m at my best, in my daily life I look to find the “holy” connections among the people I encounter.
I feel it when someone tells me I dropped something I would not have otherwise noticed. I feel it in the
friendly glance of someone who looks or sounds a whole lot different than I do.
I know I have a Love in Common with so many people on this planet. I know that we love our children,
that we love noble sacrifice and courageous morality; that we love fair play and honesty, compassion,
and kindness.
I have faith there is a Common Core and I have a love for those of us who share it. We are all connected
to it, we are all bound together by our love for it. It’s a holy thing – and I feel blessed to be a part of it.
III. It’s Because of DeMeRa
This is the Post Paternal Thought Structure I use to answer the big questions of “Why?”. Like “Why do
things happen?” and “Why do they happen to me?”
Of course, these questions come from the genetically endowed urges for Knowledge. Whether it’s a
good or bad thing, it’s not enough to understand that something has happened – we are programmed to
want to know why it happened.
Let’s take an example of each: Albert just hit a walk‐off home run to win the World Series and the house
Mary spent all her money and two years building was destroyed by a hurricane the day before she was
to move her family in.
Whether in exultant joy or exhausting sadness, each attributes it to God. Albert points to the sky, awash
in a feeling of gratitude for the gift his Father has bestowed upon him. Mary looks upward, accepting
that her great material loss was part of a loving Father’s plan for her. Albert feels gratitude, Mary will
find acceptance – both have no further need to wonder why.
I definitely sense to value of the answer “It’s God’s plan”. He’s my Father who made me and loves me,
it’s His Plan, it must be right, I’ll be grateful for it or learn to live with it (as the case may be), no more
questions needed. Something like that old bumper sticker that said “God said it, I believe it, that settles
it”. I have no doubt that a lot of comforts flow from that kind of faith …
I really can’t compete with that, but I have devised something that works for me. I have a simple and
homely belief that all things happen because of the combination of three things – the Decisions I and
other people make, the Mechanics of physical life on earth, and the influence on events of
Randomness. No clouds parting or the Hand of God – just an obvious structure I use to answer the
questions.
Before I show you how I use it, let me explain a bit further. By mechanics, I mean the way matter,
energy, and life processes behave. Things like gravity, photosynthesis, and the progression of disease.
We can observe, measure, and predict these things and, without our intervention, they happen on their
own.
By decisions, I mean the decisions that I and others make which lead to action or inaction. And, by
randomness, I mean either the mechanical things that we haven’t figured out yet or those behavior
patterns which are far too complex and subtle to describe.
Decisions, Mechanics, Randomness – DeMeRa. That’s it, that’s why things happen – I see no other
reasons.
Now there are two significant differences between God’s Plan and DeMeRa. First, I don’t think I’m
stretching it to say that DeMeRa is considerably further to the Facts side of the Belief Continuum than
God’s Plan.
Second, and more importantly, even though responding to the “why do things happen” question with
God’s Plan and DeMeRa may ultimately create the same emotions – acceptance and gratitude – the
“God’s Plan” answer does not engender further thought or understanding. It’s the end of the road.
On the other hand, DeMeRa provokes some Post Paternal thinking and, in my view, increases the depth
of the experience.
Here’s what I mean:
Albert’s sitting at his locker, the hubbub of the press receded, the sticky champagne drying on his face.
He re‐lives the moment – the pitcher’s face, the background roar of 50,000 hopeful fans, the seams on
the ball as it leaves the pitcher’s hand, the perfect meeting of ball and bat.. And he is happy, satisfied,
and grateful to the Father he imagines caused it all to happen. Beautiful, but childlike. There he is, a
grown man, thanking his daddy for the best birthday present ever.
If Albert was Post‐Paternal, he’d be sitting at the same locker, with the same sticky champagne face re‐
living the moment. But rather than appreciating Father’s gift, he’d be thinking about the DeMeRa that
created this splendid experience.
He’d be thinking about the decisions he made to practice hitting instead of going to the beach, the
decisions his parents made to buy him a glove instead of taking the family out to dinner for a month, the
decisions his uncle made to hit him fly balls in the summer evenings instead of drinking beer and
watching TV. He’d be thinking about his decision to read the book on this pitcher one more time before
he went to bed last night.
He’d think about the amazing mechanics of hand‐eye coordination and the way muscles become strong
and quick with effort and repetition, about how his mother’s eyesight and father’s height were
combined in his genetic code. He’d be thinking about the 1/8 inch difference in where the ball hits the
bat and how that is the difference between a pop‐up and a ball in the seats, about how the pitcher’s
missing his intended spot by an inch put the ball where the wood was thickest on the bat.
And then the randomness of it all – how the scout from his team found him the day after the scout
missed his flight and was delayed a day, how the batter before him was a guy who wasn’t supposed to
be playing but was in there because the starter twisted his ankle in the third inning. There’s no way the
starter (if uninjured and batting) would have had the patience to draw that walk. He even thinks about
the randomness of growing up in a warm climate where he could play ball year round instead of being
born in Iceland.
Now I ask you: while it may not be the golden emotion of basking in a Father’s love, but it’s pretty good ‐
right? And Albert would be acting as a self‐sufficient adult rather than as his Father’s child (and you
know by now how I feel about that).
That, of course, was about understanding why something good happened. The Father Instinct causes us
to expect a source to which we can direct our gratitude, religion gives us the Father.
The other reason we ask a similar why is when something bad happens. Why did it happen, why did it
happen to me? This undoubtedly is what the relief pitcher who threw the hanging slider to Albert must
have been asking.
But let’s move away from baseball and answer Mary’s question. I’m a good person, I saved money for
years to come up with a down payment, my family and I lived in a lousy apartment to save on rent and
now, after all the sacrifice, I have lost everything. Twenty houses on the block, mine was one of the
three that was destroyed. Why? Why me?
It must be God’s plan. He must have had a good reason for sending the hurricane and denying me the
fruits of my labor and while I, a mere mortal, cannot hope to understand why, I can at least come to
accept my fate. If I believe He loves me, He must have had a reason. I will seek His guidance and move
on.
Or….
I made some good decisions and some bad ones. It was a great idea to save up so that I could own my
own house. It makes sense financially and would give my kids a much better foundation for a good life.
And I would feel really, really proud of myself if I did it.
On the other hand, I did make the decision not to buy hurricane insurance. I thought about it, but in the
end, I figured it would delay things another year and I’d miss out on buying the lot that I found. Bad
decision, but it wasn’t casually made and I might make it again under the same circumstances.
The builder decided to use a less expensive construction method and I approved it without doing a lot of
investigation. Again, it was that or stay in that awful apartment for three more years.
I’m not a meteorologist, but I understand that mechanically, hurricanes develop because of certain
weather patterns in certain locations. I know that where I live is such an area. I also understand the
mechanical reality that hurricane force winds can destroy buildings.
Finally, I don’t why the hurricane hit my house but not the one next door. Maybe the scientists could
tell me, or maybe it’s just random. But it wasn’t anything I did, that’s for sure.
End point is the same: acceptance. But I think there’s a worthy difference between the DeMeRa and the
“God’s Plan” ideas. If I shrug and say “God’s Plan”, I may gain acceptance, but I learn nothing. But by
going through the DeMeRa analysis, I might actually gain something that could be useful later on.
Maybe I learned something about sacrifice and risk taking, maybe I learned about the importance of
weighing my decisions more carefully. Maybe I learned (again) that you can’t put the toothpaste back in
the tube.
In any case, DeMeRa made me examine my decisions, accept that fact that I made them (and that they
can’t be changed at this point) and recognize the mechanical realities involved and the unpredictable
nature of randomness. With this process, I can learn to get past this loss, move on; maybe I’ll do better
next time, maybe I learned something.
God’s Plan or Decisions, Mechanics, and Randomness? Whatever DeMeRa lacks in emotional richness,
for me, it compensates with believability. Nazis, childhood cancer, pandemic famine, and sadistic
murderers are all part of God’s Plan – really? I know theologians would have plenty of elegant ways to
explain why a loving God would create these things, but for me, DeMeRa seems to be a pretty
straightforward answer to why things are and why they happen.
IV. The Infinite Zoom
One of the most mind‐changing artistic experiences for me was the ending of Oliver Stone’s movie
Platoon. A brilliant movie for sure, most of it shot at close range in the suffocating physical closeness of
the South Asian jungle. All the drama, all the anxiety, shot as if we were one of the sweating soldiers
watching and feeling these horrifying and futile events unfold first hand.
But the most transcendent part to me is when, at the end, the camera pulls back as the helicopter lifts
off, zooming out until we’re a few thousand feet above the jungle. After the hours of gut wrenching,
close up sweating intensity, now all we see are the silent tree tops and the dense vegetation. It looks
completely peaceful with no indication of the terrifying turmoil and mortal dangers below.
I’ve never forgotten the visceral impact that transition had on me – a most powerful sense of
perspective. The images put the concept of perspective in a most powerful way – no matter how
complex and frightening things may be close up, at some point in the zoom outward, they fade to
nothingness.
I often use this “Zooming” Thought Structure when I seek Grace without God. For example, I use it to
get comfortable with what might be the fundamental paradox of human consciousness: the
insignificance of existence and the immensity of being.
Most people who have moved past seeing the flat earth as the center of the universe would have to
acknowledge that, from an objective physical point of view, each of us is factually a momentary
assemblage of matter and energy, entirely undetectable by any meaningful measure of the physical
universe. Yet, it is equally and simultaneously true that we each live inner lives of immense depth,
intensity, complexity, variety, and duration. Are we significant or insignificant?
I would imagine that those who have faith in Father would answer this question with “significant’. God
made the universe, we are His children, we will live with Him in Heaven for eternity when our temporary
residency on earth is over. No problem.
The nihilistic atheist might answer “insignificant”. We are meaningless temporary blips, nothing to get
excited about in the long run. Get what you can from life, but it is short, pointless, and often brutal for
most people. I believe this view was most eloquently expressed a few decades ago with “life sucks, then
you die.”
You’ve probably already guessed that I answer “both”. It just all depends on the Zoom setting with
which I view things. In the jungle, to continue the Platoon metaphor, it is important. The passions,
hopes, joys, tragedies, victories, and disappointments – nothing can be more real, nothing more
profound.
But Zoom out enough, get to the tree tops and keep going and it all gets quiet and indistinguishable.
Even in the backward looking reveries of middle age, it’s impossible to remember why some particular
teenage triumph or defeat seemed so important even though you know it did. But keep zooming, ten
years, fifty years, a thousand years, a million years – it’s less than nothing.
The key for me is to use the Zoom in a productive, Grace inducing way.
Let’s say I’m at the beach and watching a glorious sunset. Courtesy of the Father Instinct, I instinctually
want to “thank God” for the gift and the pleasure I am feeling. I feel His presence in the grand display
and I am grateful to Him. It is almost exactly how I would have felt when daddy brought home the new
baseball glove I’d been wanting. I’ve gotten a gift, I thank the giver, his greatness and his love for me. I
am grateful.
Instead, I Zoom out, visualizing myself in the physical context of the earth, clouds, and sun – the
distances between them, the rotations and orbits – and I actively experience myself as a small creature
on a beautiful planet spinning eternally through infinite space. Then I Zoom way in and think about the
richness of visual experience, the astonishing mechanics of how the late afternoon light enters my brain
through the lenses of my eyes to be a stained glass window of incomparable beauty of my Hearing
Mind. I am grateful.
(I’m guessing you may find this to be a bit silly, but to me, not as silly as thinking Father is saying “Hey, I
bet Sid and the other folks at the beach would really enjoy some orange clouds right about now” which
is what me thanking Him implies.)
Of course, all I’m really saying here is “have perspective”. But to me, calling it the Infinite Zoom is much
more fun.
V. The Flame Goes Out (Letting Go)
I’m not afraid of dying,
I just don’t want to be there when it happens.
Woody Allen, in the movie Love and Death
I’m pretty sure that the little insect I saw in my shower this morning doesn’t spend a lot of time worrying
about the time and nature of his inevitable demise, but he sure seemed intensely determined to avoid
being killed as I tried to get rid of him. Scurrying here, dashing there – you could almost hear his little
brain going “Shit! The giant monster is trying to kill me! I’m too young to die! No, go over there! Ohhh
‐ what will Heather do without me?!!”
But, of course, unless our ideas about bug intelligence are way off base, he was just driven by
evolutionarily implanted directives to avoid extinguishment. I’m guessing that most of his slower and
less alert predecessors were crushed early in their bug lives, well before they could produce baby bugs.
Maybe twenty first century Fullerton bugs who like to go into showers will similarly be left behind by the
simple dictates of evolutionary fate.
I speculate that my bug’s frantic attempts at avoiding me were entirely mechanically driven – visual
stimuli, some sort of metabolic increases, and inherent anti‐predator movements. Somewhere up the
evolutionary chain, these sorts of responses began to “feel” like something: fear. Although it’s cartoon
silly to pretend that the deer in the forest is Bambi, I do think it’s too human‐centric to assume that a
deer feels nothing when threatened.
I do know, however, that we humans spend a lot of time worrying about and trying to avoid death. It’s
for the same basic reason as my bug victim (survival of the species), but, in our Hearing Minds, it feels
like a whole heck of lot more. We know it’s out there, we see it coming, and we are genetically
programmed to be scared out of our minds.
I think that’s why the idea that a loving Father will welcome you into his Home and reunite you with
your long passed loved ones is among the most richly appealing articles of Father‐based Faith. Sure, the
passage could be rough, but the destination? Well worth the trip.
So without that construct to soothe my fears of dying and death, I use the idea of the Flame and the
technique of the Infinite Zoom.
When the Flame is out, it’s out. In the absolute quiet of non‐existence there is no further suffering or
worry, there is no reward. For a time, I may be remembered and longed for by those whom I affected,
but all those people will, in just few more cosmic blinks, be gone as well.
I Zoom out. I imagine seeing the timeless galaxies spinning, silent through the eternal void of empty
space – and I see the forever‐ness of time against which my fleeting earthly existence is truly measured.
I feel a wave of calm as I let go of my sorrows, frustrations, and anxieties, knowing how little any of it
could possibly matter from this vantage point.
I feel better as I imagine myself moving away from it all in some cosmic transport, looking back at these
days and decades as if they were only distant dreams that ended eons ago, all their colors, vibrations,
and movements long since silenced. It mattered a lot then, and while I feel a faint nostalgia, it surely
doesn’t matter now.
No Father to receive me, no eternal life. As the most overtly atheistic song ever to make the top forty so
poignantly suggested: “Imagine all the people, living for today.”
VI. It is Worth It
“Because I say so.” How many exasperated kids have bridled at this frustrating exercise of dictatorial
authority? Absolute power wielded over a powerless subject.
“Because He Said So.” How many people take comfort and refuge in the certainty of Father’s word?
Absolute certainty to soothe an uncertain existence.
In my quest to achieve Grace without God, I have chose to affirmatively believe that life is worth living
and worth living well, with joy, creativity, aspiration, and growth. I know this is as far to the Desire side
of the Belief Continuum as any religious belief.
But, unlike material matters, here, the belief can create the reality. It’s a self‐fulfilling concept: if I
believe it’s worth it and I live like it’s worth it – to me, it becomes worth it. If I don’t believe it’s worth it
and I live like it’s not worth it – well, you get the picture.
beyond the body or there isn’t – belief alone cannot create something physical that doesn’t exist. But
the question “is life worth it?” only exists and only matters in my Hearing Mind – it’s not a question
answerable by the weighing of facts. So if I believe that life is worth it, then my belief really can make it
true for me.
It’s the fundamental existential choice – and I have made it. I believe that life is worth it because I want
to believe it and I want to believe it because it brings me Grace Without God – and because it’s the
clearly preferable choice between the two alternatives.
Life is worth it – because I said so.
VII. It’s All Up to Me
[To be sung in the style of a nineteenth and twentieth century African American church song – joyful
hand claps on the upbeats, blues inflections throughout… ]
Ain’t nobody up there
Nothin’ there to see
Ain’t nobody up there
So it’s all up to me.
***
It’s all up to me, now
The Gift is in my hands
It’s all up to me
to Fulfill the Gift’s demands
***
Fulfill the Gift’s demands
As far as I can see
to Fulfill the Gift’s demands
It’s all up to me
One of the most beguiling religion‐based bumper stickers I’ve ever seen said “Let Go, Let God”. What a
concept – just take your hands off the wheel, sit back and enjoy the ride – God is driving.
I can’t think of a life approach more opposite than mine. In my Post Paternal Faith (just like in my world
view), I gladly, enthusiastically, and voluntarily assume complete responsibility for me and what I do.
And I’m quite proud of it.
No one could seriously dispute the value of adult responsibility in the material world. In all the years of
thinking about it, I have yet to find a reason for not taking that same responsibility for things
metaphysical.
I was born with the drive for Knowledge and Connection, I was imprinted with the Father Instinct. It is
only natural to be drawn to the extended child‐state that is Father‐based religion. In my view, it is also
natural to want to grow beyond these Father‐dependent patterns of childhood.
So like every existentialist before me, I’ve concluded that it’s up to me. Moral or immoral, productive or
lazy, independent or dependent, happy or sad, peaceful or anxious, grateful or resentful, disciplined or
slothful.
But the difference between my thinking and the more nihilistic of my philosophical brethren is my Faith.
It’s an affirmative, formalized desire‐based foundation of belief upon which I can build that morality,
productivity, independence, happiness, peacefulness, gratitude, and discipline.
* * *
Developing (and re‐developing and re‐developing) the ideas I’ve attempted to present in Faith Without
Father was the most mesmerizing inner journey I’ve ever taken. I really do hope you enjoyed it.
APPENDIX:
THE YEARNINGS MATRIX
Throughout this treatise, I have referred to “yearning” when talking about the various metaphysical
needs or desires. To provide a handy, dandy reference guide (because I know there is a great demand
for it), in this table, I’ll just use the word Yearning to represent the metaphysical needs.
Soooo… when I find myself Yearning for Father, I can consult this Yearnings Matrix:
The Yearning For KNOWLEDGE,
My Post Paternal Answer
I Want To Know…
What am I? The most advanced expression of the process of life on earth
Where did I come from? The process of life on earth which found its expression in my parents’
procreational activities
Why am I here? Same as above
Why do things happen? Because of decisions I and others make, the mechanics of biological
and physical activity, and the randomness of events (DeMeRa)
What should I do? Accept, honor, and fulfill the Gift of the Hearing Mind in a Post
Paternal manner
What happens when I die? The flame goes out
The Yearning for CONNECTION,
My Post Paternal Alternative
I Want…
Father’s Love Father’s absence is replaced and compensated for with feelings of
pride which result from summoning the courage and strength to
face the world in a Post Paternal manner.
To love Father I accept and honor the Gift of the Hearing Mind. I feel profound
reverence when I contemplate its nature, rarity, and potential.
To thank Father When I feel gratitude on a grand scale (“Thank God!”), I take the
time to use the DeMeRa analysis to fully understand and appreciate
that for which I am thankful.
To be among those that love Father I look for and nurture relationships with people in the Common
Core.
Father’s protection & intervention Since there “ain’t nobody up there”, when I instinctually want to ask
for Father’s help, I use the DeMeRa analysis. I ask myself – what else
can I or should I do? Do I understand the mechanics of the
situation? Can I affect the randomness?
Father’s approval I can glow in my own approval when I act in ways which fulfill the
Gift in a Post Paternal manner.
Father’s forgiveness From the wisdom conveyed by a college commencement speaker: “If
you have a problem, face it and fix it”. I added “and file it, then
forget about it.”
Face it, Fix it, File it, Forget it. If I have faced the problem honestly,
virtuously, and promptly; if I have done everything I could to fix it, if I
have learned from it what I could (filed it), then I can move on
(forget about it) – and I can feel forgiven.
Father’s soothing When I want Father’s comfort (“Don’t worry, don’t be afraid ‐
everything’s going to be OK), I use DeMeRa. Whether things actually
will be OK or not, after a thorough DeMeRa exercise, I have soothed
myself.