A God I Can Like

The only God that I can think of whom I would like would be a Socinian God: one who was neither omniscient nor omnipotent and grows as the universe unfolds. He would also have to be dreaming. We are all responsible for our dreams to a certain extent, in the sense that we actually produce them (albeit unconsciously). We are slightly more responsible for daydreams, as we are consciously choosing to give control over to creative fancy and have some vague intuition regarding the trajectory of the dream. Our daydreams require our conscious energy and attention and cannot share these with other thoughts or problems. We frequently invest so much of our conscious energy trying to solve a problem or imagine a scenario that our sense of self is completely eclipsed by the ill-defined object of our investigation. Before this is pictured we are literally giving ourselves over to darkness, suffused with the feeling of hard mental toil, until the object materializes for us. While in that state of limbo, that workspace or blank canvas upon which we aim to paint the object of our investigation, we most often do not know what exactly we are seeking. We are literally building things in our mind from scratch until one of them matches some unconscious criteria, resulting in our “recognizing” what we sought. We often can’t anticipate what our imagination will produce because our conscious energy is so heavily invested in the daydream that none is left over to track where the main logic train is headed. Because we cannot anticipate what our imagination will produce from our mental toil, we are often surprised, sometimes pleasantly, sometimes unpleasantly. The Socinian God of which I dream is in fact dreaming also. He is investing all of his conscious energy in the daydream that we call the universe; too focused on this single goal to be able to anticipate the consequences. His mind is so powerful that he can simulate the entire universe, with its vast expanses and innumerable subtleties, but does so at the expense of his ability to predict the future of the daydream. This solves the problem of evil, as God cannot predict the horrible aspects of his daydream anymore than he can the beautiful ones, but at some level of consciousness he strives to grow past the former and maximize the latter. He is like the human brain before the fully developed cerebral cortex gave rise to self-consciousness; teetering on the edge of a breakthrough of self-understanding. Whatever prompted this daydream, whatever problem God aims to solve, or whatever object he aims to imagine, we can forgive his lack of foresight along with his unintended cruelty in the hopes that the result will be worth all of our suffering. Hopefully he will become lucid in this daydream, fully conscious of the object of his imagination, sparing us all the dreadful fate that lies in store for most of our own dreams: to decay quickly from memory. Or, perhaps God will recognize what he didn’t know he was searching for. Waking up to a beautiful and unanticipated solution to a grand problem, he will hold this object fixed in his mind, preserving our daydreamed cosmos in some state of platonic perfection as he gazes in on it with pride, joy, and a little surprise.

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2 Responses to A God I Can Like

  1. This socinian god seems to have been playing by the rules of “don’t touch this button” and simply lost. If he ever becomes conscious of himself, I’m sure the first genuinely godly utterance issuing forth will be “OOOPS!”

  2. Pingback: Some Reflections On The 2013 Julian Jaynes Conference | Think On These Things

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