ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT'S ME, MARGARET

I miss God, and I'm not even sure I understand what that means. What it doesn't mean is evangelizing, proselytizing or joining some mainstream (or not) organized religious denomination or group. It doesn't mean that I miss something male or female or anything that is remotely like me. What I miss is being in the company of people of faith, and I don't know who they are. I think I mean people who believe in something that isn't human. People who believe in something other than or in addition to science. I'm not suggesting that people of faith don't do the things that other humans do, but perhaps there is a collective consciousness of our collective shortcomings. Maybe there is a willingness to be always working toward being better people. Or perhaps it's just a longing for people who speak a familiar language even in the midst of our various and sundry theological arguments and positions. I want to understand why my friend, who calls herself a lapsed Catholic atheist, wants the Roman Catholic "Rite of Christian Burial" when she dies. When I ask her why, she can't tell me. Whatever that is-that desire that seems to make no rational sense--is the same desire I have. While I don't know what I want, I know what I don't want: religious fundamentalism, rigid rules and dos and don'ts; people who tell others what to believe. Ironically, I don't want a community that has no collective belief or consciousness. I only know that I miss God or Allah or Buddha or Jehovah or whatever that thing is that fulfills me, reaches in those deep places of mine and speaks a language that no human speaks.

I want to speak of those things that I don't understand. I want to meditate or even pray, in the broadest sense of the term. I want to be with humans who have limits--those whose consciousness of something larger guides their interactions with other humans. Perhaps it tempers their anger or envy, jealousy or words. I seek a community where there's no room for ego or arrogance or showing off. My focus is the now--not the hereafter. Whatever a spiritual community is, that's the community I seek. It must offer peace, an absence of judgment or criticism, if only for the moments that we are in community. Two friends and I gathered to read and speak of meaningful things. It felt almost like community. The time was brief, but maybe...

My longing continues; it's become a necessity. I search and search to no avail. It's not a church or a service or a meeting. I want a community committed to social justice; one that doesn't give a damn about amassing money and other material things; a community committed to active eradication of pain and suffering while being acutely aware that eradication is highly unlikely; a community that actively engages in criticism of itself, its values and mores; a community that never forgets its own flawed humanity--one that gathers to read poetry or prose and speak of meaningful things. A community that makes time, however briefly, to reflect on something other than the mundane. We must be certain of mutual love, respect and trust--that is community.

I miss God or gods or deities or meditation or community. "Deep calls unto deep... Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret."