That

 

Cosmogony is the standard science that deals mostly with the origins of the universe—most of which purposefully avoids any mention of divine intervention or creational origins.
The tension arises when an otherwise respectable scientist hypothesizes an underlying, uncaused cause behind the origin of our universe. The reason this always causes debate is very simple: giving such power to anything divine is synonymous with giving up the search for a more reasonable explanation. The must-be-God group has been wrong before.

I have beliefs, and yet I am always willing to give any science the respect it deserves. However, the scientific community is teeming with denominationalism as surely as are the religions of the world.
The must-be-waves group has only recently merged with the must-be-particles group. Even more recently, the must-be-consciousness group is being considered as a major acquisition.

So why is it still necessary to deny entry to God?

There is a very simple explanation for this: what is meant by “God” is seldom agreed upon.
It is not difficult to excuse Dawkins for his disbelief when he puts forth his “one god further” argument. Developing a universal definition of what God is is practically impossible.
If by God you mean nature, your idea will be widely and intellectually acceptable—as long as you clarify yourself.
Einstein took a slightly different approach than Dawkins; instead of saying that all gods were off the table, he said that he believed in Spinoza’s God. Since Einstein’s famous answer, other scientists have quoted Einstein when asked about God.

Spinoza, in short, cannot be narrowed any easier than some of the ancient texts Spinoza himself would have rejected.
Here, I will attempt to narrow Spinoza’s philosophy down to the most acceptable synonym for God: All.
He probably would have said, “Everything is God,” and he may have said, “Nature is God.”
It is even possible that Spinoza may have equated God with the universe, rather than defining God as other than the universe—as well as its cause.
Diving any deeper than this into Spinoza and his God would likely become as cryptic as Spinoza’s own writings.

Moses, who is credited with writing the first books of the Bible, had a very unique experience, and he wrote about it in the Book of Exodus.
After considerable dialogue between Moses and a burning bush, Moses asked, “When people ask me what your name is, what shall I say?”
God, having been identified as the source of the voice coming from the bush that continued to burn while not being consumed, famously replied, “I Am That I Am.”
Based on the King James Version of God’s reply, He seems to suggest that He goes by “I Am” for short.
However, between the two I Ams, the 1611 translators capitalize the noun “That,” making it proper and allowing the reader to assume that That is God’s middle name.
This leaves me wondering if God sometimes goes by His middle name: That. If so, this may explain why so many people use this label to associate God with cosmogonic mysteries.
“That is God,” they often say.

I don’t think this is a stretch, and it even works with Spinoza’s philosophies, which, in turn, would fit nicely as a chapter in Einstein’s story.

Alan Watts beautifully suggested that most babies’ first word is Tathātā, which is a Sanskrit word for “suchness.”
Before we become familiar with labels, we may first learn to point to something we desire and say, “Tathātā,” or the English equivalent: That.

That: all of that which has been or has yet to be labeled otherwise.

Legally, and for the sake of banking and other important pursuits, God usually signs His name, “I Am That I Am.”
But all of His friends call Him That.

You will know when you recognize our common friend and companion.
You will be sitting on a park bench, looking at a wonderful sunset, and you will say, “That is God.”
You will be sitting beside the ocean, watching and listening to the waves crashing on the shore, and you will say, “That is God.”
You will hold a newborn baby, and you will have feelings you cannot explain, and you will say, “That is God.”
You’ll hear rain on a tin roof, or wind blowing through the trees, and you will say, “That is God.”

So, was it That which caused reality?

Not at all.
Reality is consciousness, and we will continue to label any and every real thing we discover.
Consciousness is the first cause, arising out of The Uncaused.
Consciousness is every experience we will ever have.
Consciousness allowed by God.
Consciousness saw itself in a mirror and then goes away, straightway forgetting what it was, but every reflection becomes a reminder.

Finally, remember that to let is to transfer possession—from an owner to a tenant.
Consciousness is God’s only renter.
The entire universe, and all of life’s experiences, actually belong to The Owner:

“For in him we live, and move, and have our being…”
—Acts 17:28, KJV

However, consciousness possesses our universe because God let it:

• God let light. (Genesis 1:4)

• God let heaven appear. (Genesis 1:6–8)

• God let the Earth appear. (Genesis 1:9–10)

• God let plants appear. (Genesis 1:11–12)

• God let animals appear. (Genesis 1:24)

God allows consciousness to be the substance of all experience.
As The Observer, He observes. But as the one who experiences, He is the observed.

That is Spinoza’s All, Nature for others, God for some, and even Nothingness.

What is That to me?
Love.
That is the Only Uncaused Cause, out of which all experiential causes (Consciousness) arise.

Label what you will, and if you cannot label it, call it That.
He will answer.