I grew up Episcopalian. I went with my family to church until I was a teenager, sang in the choir, can still sing to you the beautiful Sanctus that Father Howell would intone before Communion. I loved the stained glass, the vestments, the rituals. And I never understood anything that was being said. I’d try, really strain to comprehend the message. What I remember is many versions of this: “And Jesus said to the Apostles, I come unto you to tell you that huuuunnnggguuh pleaba fortunly keilbasa vroayba. Crooossstibula inorialummmmm people flouirishhhiinnggg. Praise be to God!”
All of those hours of listening, going to Sunday school, even doing the preparation for First Communion, and I hadn’t a clue what the heck they were all talking about. It just didn’t compute for me.
But my body did take in a few basic messages. Here’s the sum total of what I learned: God the Father. Jesus is God’s son. (Of course, both male, of course.) Pray to God. Ask God for help, but he probably is too busy to listen. So I’m out of luck, as God is out there and I don’t really have any way to access him. Too bad, that’s just how it is. Life life and die.
As an adult, I stumbled on spirituality. I read a lot of Hindu and Buddhist writings, learned to meditate, chanted Om Namah Shivah with Gurumayi. I felt much better about something I thought of as “being connected to Spirit.” I was digging a tunnel towards something and could feel the light starting to come in. Then there was this other tunnel from the direction of consciousness work, ideas like taking 100% responsibility and living from appreciation. Along that path, my great friend Dee Cooper, a Presbyterian minister, talked about God and the Triangle (God as Hero: He’ll take care of me. God as Villain: He’ll smite me. God as Victim: He’s not happy with what I’ve been up to.) While I felt intrigued by this seemingly blasphemous idea, I still didn’t see anything beyond that.
Over the holiday, I got it. I felt it, saw it, believe myself about it.
Here’s what I see:
I am God.
So are you.
So are they.
We’re all God, all of this world is God. (I’ve sure heard that before, but somehow never included myself in that circle. Again–too blasphemous.) The human animal has the particular curse and blessing to think about divinity and godlessness, wonder about them, come up with duality (our specialty). And that idea that We’re All One? (Another concept I’ve certainly heard many times, and responded to from my same Episcopalian roots: Nodding politely without a clue of what that really meant.) Ohhhhhh. We’re all one because we’re all God! Now I get it.
Meditation has deepened for me from this realization. Now when I sit, I see myself as recharging my God identity, before I head off to be in the world where I’m apt to forget it all over again. I feel the light coursing through me and now I am the light, I am the Source, I am the Creator. Now, when I’m wondering about a choice to make, I have a whole new frame: What would God do?
What about you? Do you know you’re God?
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