A Scientist's Prayer: God Is My Alternative Hypothesis

Dear God,

Some people lose their faith before they lose their baby teeth. Some stop believing after a personal crisis, or after they learn enough about the mechanics of this world that you become redundant within the context of their worldview. I am not one of these people.

For the person who--upon looking under the hood of their car--ceased to imagine that it was a large rodent on a slightly larger wheel that propelled them along their way to work every morning, I say good for you. But I also say, might not something of that athletic rodent animate your car’s engine?

How silly. What a silly thing to say. I’m not trying to offend you God. Who would want to be flip with the creator of the universe, you who smote the sodomites, you who told Abraham to kill his son and then turned around at the last minute and said, Gotcha! I certainly don’t want any of what you’re bringing. I would be walking with a limp after round one.

I am willing to hang with you God. I’ve learned a lot about science, a lot about how species evolve, how we adapt (for good or ill) and how we find solace in groups and dogmas and fairy tales. I know all of this stuff, Yet I am not fully on board. I haven’t had my card punched by Richard Dawkins, et al. I exist somewhere between the delusion and the cold reality, whatever that is. The alarm clock hasn’t gone off yet, and I am clinging to sleep. Although I know I’ve only got minutes to go, I cling to my pillow ever tighter.

There’s something that doesn’t add up in the equation. They (the heathens) have certainly made an appealing case for why I don’t need to believe in you. Yet I persist. I’ve always been a contrarian. Maybe that’s it? No, it’s something else.

They can’t know what’s up with you God. However right on they are about the claims of your followers, however they show up their detractors time after time, you--whatever you are--are beyond them. But we’re working on it, is what they’ll say. And I say, yeah, you work on it. That’s what you do. But let’s stick with the formula, and let‘s follow it through. Ho: No pearly gates, no omnipotent artisan. H1: It’s all you, just like it’s always been, just like it always will be. Alpha and Omega. The numbers certainly don’t add up so far, but there are bigger things than numbers. I’m not asking for an Evel Kenevel trick. I don’t want you to jump through any flaming hoops, or across any major crevasses. I don’t want to tempt you God, I just want to know you. And if there’s nothing to know, then that leaves a lot of room to fill with other stuff. I’ve always kind of wanted to learn piano.

Amen.

ps: When the preacher starts talking about root words, you can be sure that they don't know what they're talking about.