Even if the open windows of science at first make us shiver after the cosy indoor warmth of traditional humanizing myths, in the end the fresh air brings vigor, and the great spaces have a splendor of their own. Bertrand Russell
I have been faithless for a few years now and in the space left, nothing has else has entered in. At first this concerned me, I felt bereft, similar to the anger and angst I felt towards God when my dad died, leaving me more alone than I’d already felt. After nearly 50 years of belonging to a faith community who at the very least believed in a triune god and after nearly 50 years of belonging to both a mother and a father, I was alone, with only myself to believe in.
My family seemed shattered without my dad holding us together. And my dad was the link to my faith, as well. At first I clung to it, as the gift he had bequeathed to me. In the years following his death, I realized other gifts he had given me, more tangible, more real. Like tenacity, like his ability to grow and reason with age.
Not having faith is a horrible thing to admit, especially in the United States. We think that people do better in a hierarchy, that we must have someone to be accountable to in order to be good. I know this isn’t true, and that we do our best when we are accountable to ourselves, when we listen to ourselves, when we love ourselves, but we live in a culture of hierarchy, and of crime and punishment.
So, when I stumble upon this quote by Bertrand Russell, it is with a sense of belonging, and community that says, “See you are not alone in this knowing, this understanding, that great spaces bring their own comfort and awe.” I now exist in and crave these great spaces, and if there is anything at all in this space, it is love.
