Bill’s address of the 18th of September entitled ‘Unitarianism,’ has fired me with a sense of urgency. Up until now Unitarianism has satisfied my own needs, giving me an opportunity to indulge my own heresies without challenging, or being challenged. In his address however Bill changed all that, overturning the idea that Unitarianism would always be small, and aspiring to be little more than an intellectual think-tank. He put it to us that Unitarianism could grow to become a positive force for good, and a viable alternative to the faith-bound religions that are presently fragmenting into materialism and fundamentalism about us. While I agree with this, I identify two challenges that have to be met. The first is the question of belief; the second is the question of spirituality. We must be credible in our beliefs and we must be open to the creative forces of spirituality. I personally believe that Unitarianism has something special to offer on both accounts. I think the best way of explaining this is by a making personal declaration of belief and perhaps offering a glimpse of something that has given me a new path to spirituality. Let me start with what sounds like a contradiction:
I am an atheist with a deep and abiding love of God.
I wonder if I can resolve this paradox? In the past I have made numerous attempts to put my beliefs on paper, but have always got lost in the detail. So forgive me if I try to keep it as simple as possible even if my position sounds more extreme than it really is. As a scientist I can find no evidence for the existence of God, either as a creator or as a sentient being that has any control or influence over my affairs. If I could find enough evidence for scientific enquiry I could call myself an agnostic, but having found none, I feel it is more honest to declare my atheism. Making this declaration is not easy. I am challenging the beliefs of my late father in particular. I am setting myself up in front of people I love and respect, saying — by implication — that they are wrong. I run the risk of robbing people, known and unknown, of the security of their faiths. I am also throwing away my own lifejacket; the belief that God is at hand to help me. Finally, I have also to accept that I do not believe in a life after death.
There are, however, compensations for my acceptance of what I call scientific atheism. The first is a huge sense of relief at no longer having to live what to me had become a lie. Belief for me is something that rises out of the heart’s core, a construct that is constantly being tested and modified in response to my life’s experience. Belief in what has become to me unbelievable is a contradiction in terms. While there are evolutionary advantages for tribal groups that bind themselves together with bizarre beliefs, ultimately our survival depends on our innate ability to distinguish between what appears to us to be either true or false.
Acknowledging my atheism like this has been a revelation to me because it has had the effect of liberating the creative part of my mind. No longer burdened with the question, “Is it true?” my mind has leapt forward and is now asking — as Bill has been directing it to ask for years — “What does it mean?”
In a recent address Jennifer explained how the left side of the brain deals with deductive and logical thought, while the right side of the brain is the centre for our artistic, intuitive thinking. Now for the first time since my Christian indoctrination, the two sides of my brain can work together without fighting for precedence. My left, deductive brain is no longer trying to believe the unbelievable, while my right side, intuitive brain is suddenly freed to think creatively, artistically, dare I even say spiritually.
Is it, however, a practical proposition to live in both the literal and creative worlds at the same time? One brief example: the African Bushmen live in an unbelievably harsh environment, where their daily survival depends on a total grasp of reality. Yet these men and women also live a parallel spiritual world rich in wisdom and story. This duality is, I suggest, the natural path to being a complete human being. Unitarianism, grounded as it is in the age of the enlightenment, is in a unique position to embrace the reality of modern living and at the same time to reopen our minds to the wonders of creative thinking and understanding, possibly finding a new spirituality to replace that being lost by the established churches.
How do we stand then with my outlandish statement, that I am an “atheist with an abiding love of God”? If God is neither a being, nor a creator, what is the object of my love? I think my answer to this is that God is not a being but a process. Let me give another example. Pretend that you walk into the National Gallery and find that the Vermeer that you wish to see has been turned face to the wall, while some necessary repair is undertaken. The conservator assures you that this is indeed the old master, but no matter how much you try to convince yourself that this really is the picture you love, it will mean absolutely nothing to you. At this point the conservator turns the picture face out again. In seconds you are drawn inexorably into that Dutch interior where the servant girl is still looking out of the window, and the woman is still searching for words for her letter. It is not therefore the canvas, or the frame, or even the paint that makes Vermeer’s painting art — they were all there before the picture was turned — but it is you looking at it, and thinking about it, that makes it art. Art resides then, not in the painting, but in the process of our looking at it. Four thousand years ago our elders began the creation of possibly man’s greatest work of art, a portrait this time in words on papyrus, a portrait of God. It was an invitation for us to recreate God afresh in our minds with each and every generation. But this was not to be; God’s keepers, realising that they would have no control over our creations, hustled Him to safety in heaven, metaphorically turning his portrait to the wall. I do not believe in God as a being, but:
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name,
And I leave them where they are, for I know that whereso’er I go,
Others will punctually come for ever and ever.
Unitarianism has long explored the real world of the Enlightenment, and will continue to do so. But I think we may now have something else to offer, namely the chance to find God afresh, not as a being, but in the process of living, as Walt Whitman implies, above, in his epic poem Song of Myself. No one will ever know what you will find in your letters from God, no one can tell you what you should find; that is private correspondence. This is why the established churches can’t stand it; they have no control, The living God is the one we create ourselves.
If we in the Unitarian Church in Dublin can create an environment in which people can come and be inspired, not just to search, but to recreate for themselves the God that religion has banished to heaven, then we will truly have become a force for good.
Aubrey Flegg October 2005

Acknowledgements:
I would like to acknowledge the continued inspiration of
Rev.Bill Darlison Minister at the Unitarian Church here in Dublin.
I would also thank Rev.Art Lester who has been Minister here during Bill’s absences. I would strongly recommend Art’s book:
Seeing with your Ears. Spirituality For Those Who Can’t Believe.
Finally Jennifer for her help and advice and for her recent address: Religion on the Brain.