The Prodigal Atheist

There is not, nor has there ever been, an authentic rejection of God. If we imagine that we, or anyone else, has denied God (or the existence of God), we deal not in realities, but in fictions. The simple fact of the matter is that God is nothing if not the deepest, most undeniable, indivisible part of ourselves. How can we deny or reject God, when the very thing within us which denies and rejects is God? All we can deny, all we can reject, is what we are not. We can push away only what is ancillary, superficial, and superfluous in ourselves. All our efforts to rid ourselves of God, or of the notions of God which we find unsatisfactory, can only draw us closer to the actual reality of God.

Cynicism is only a fortress against those easy answers and flimsy explanations which do not awaken the most authentic, emotional confirmation we seek. It is a symbol and, at the same time, a direct expression of our integrity; our diligence and honesty in seeking answers which do not glance, but strike to the true core of the matter. Bitterness, too, is only the most beautiful impatience with what does not touch upon the ultimate crux of our questioning and confusion. It is merely a confirmation that the seeking within us is genuine. The doubts, which gather like storm clouds, darkening the skies of our soul, convey that part of ourselves which yearns desperately to experience the flood of a substantial cleansing.

It is in our defiance that we approach submission. Only in the fiercest moments of rebellion can we begin to discover the essence of true obedience. Having put away all childish consolations, and cast beneath us all those half-hearted half-truths and partial experiences which do not resonate from the very marrow of our most secret hearts, we may come, by aching, tentative steps, to encounter the genuine mystery of God. We must first possess ourselves entirely, and stand upon the uppermost summit of ourselves, before we can truly sacrifice ourselves in a wholehearted leap of faith.

What we receive from another is not religion. Nobody can give us religion. We must take it. And we must lack it before we can take it. We must shed and renounce every creed which seeks a foothold in our souls, in order to plant our feet firmly in the soil of our own holy ground. This, the atheist is in a unique position to accomplish. But all those who believe in a God who has been given, and not found, claimed in the depths of the most personal and defiant search, stumble blindly in a fog of half-faith. They are furthest from the Kingdom who believe they have found it. They merely rest complacent in some byway, some wild grotto of the soul, while imagining themselves secure within the courtyards of the King. They do not so much as journey thither.

In our loneliness, we affirm the true depth of the love we seek. In isolation, we cry out for an intimacy beyond expressions. Shamefaced, we cover our iniquities, and search out a more authentic countenance. We are the lowest form of pretenders, if we claim to know the Unknowable, or to find the Source which inspires our seeking. In humility, we should seat ourselves at the foot of the atheist, to learn what God is; for it is the one who rejects Him who embraces Him most surely. The one who claims not to know Him, not to believe in Him, not to understand what is said of Him -- is truly the one who approaches. Modesty hides from him the religion which he alone possesses in earnest. But if he were to feel it in his pocket, to hold it up, and offer it to public view, how quickly it would tarnish and turn from gold into tin. It is in his assertion of godlessness that he preserves his innocence, and his God.

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The only problem with seeing too much is that it makes you insane.
~ Phaedrus