I Wish I Believed in God

By Myron Gananian (May 2026)

Join me on this story of a lifelong journey, a search that cannot be unique. Its details may differ but the quest is universal. We all want to mean something, in our own self-regard, even more than how others hold us. From the lowest criminal to the Pope this may be one of many universals. Who are we, why do we exist, where do I fit, how to avoid pain and grief, and how to be secure and comfortable? Above all, where to find solace and security? Most often, these words are in the form of vague thoughts and are never expressed internally or externally. Introspection is truly a gift from God. There is no path to God without it. The most primitive Amazonian tribe is blessed with it. Unfortunately, in some, a curse.

This inquiry will be for others a pilgrimage, for some an intellectual pursuit, and for a few a source of dispute and conflict. It may be that we all, after all, seek a peaceful existence for our soul, be we that lowest criminal, who finds purpose by criminality, or the Pope by his holiness. This is the pursuit for meaning and attachment. Each of us finds these where we look, not unlike scientists who find just what they have sought. And just as those scientists sometimes end up with self-harm, so we also do to ourselves, either by making wrong choices or being doomed by bad birth circumstances. Whatever our stories, many of us end up seeking meaning by considering ourselves part of a large community of like-believers, often the larger the better. Neither the Aztecs nor members of any religion are free from this hunt.

I did not become an atheist from caprice, or from peer pressure, and least of all from revolt against a prior belief. Rather, I grew into it imperceptibly and likely without willing contemplation. In contrast to many in this camp, I refrain from saying that I matured, since that suggests that those who did not alter their belief are not mature. The following thoughts will show, I hope, that such demeaning ideas are incompatible with an honest search for a compass. Success in this effort should not and cannot be achieved at another’s expense. This does not obviate sincere criticism.

Being born into an Armenian family in the United States qualifies one as a twice-lottery-winner. And what an embellishment to have done so in New York City during one of its more benign eras despite the Great Depression. How could such good fortune have been capped by being welcomed during my early teens into the bosom of the First Presbyterian Church of Forest Hills, a staunch Scotch-Presbyterian home with as liberal a heart as one could hope for? As if all that were not enough, my brother and I had the privilege in our home-away-from-home to be inspired by Reverend Robert Reeves Jr. It is also likely that the response of every member of my family to the sordid agony of their murderous expulsion from their ancestral lands in Turkey profoundly colored my siblings’ and my reaction to the far less challenging obstacles and pain thrown at us by the benevolent Christian society of the United States. Just as they focused on living virtually silent about their agonies, so we, too, emulating their stoicism, responded to adversity by finding strength within ourselves and did not seek answers from others. We were our own guides and sources of security. This may very well be the reason for our drift away from organized religion. We were self-sufficient. We felt secure in the way we were formed by all the above. If there is anything admirable in me, it is attributable in great part to every element in this paragraph.

Despite, or possibly because of our very tight-knit home, we eventually ended up occasionally spending five days or nights a week at the church in a variety of commitments, all during our teens; teaching Sunday School, singing in the choir, ushering, church-sponsored Boy Scouts, and a basketball team. Even performing gardening duties on the church grounds. I, President of the Christian Endeavor Society.

Follow me on this quest, a long, gradual one, with imperceptible gradations, without epiphanies, and as of now, still no crystal clear convictions, and no absolute ones. Certainly none strong enough to encourage me to convert anyone else to my side of the fence. This latter a bulwark against any effort to proselytize or to be the recipient; something I find offensive regardless of the faith. What follows is a catalog of feelings and attitudes in no order of importance, from the general to the specific and personal.

The chief cause of my drift away from faith is the dominating characteristic of the major religions; Monotheism. This resulting in an “armed camp” or “fortress mentality” quality to their doctrines despite their protestations to the contrary and claims to inclusivity. Our way the only way. From this flows a sense of exclusivity, that not only do they have the final answer and the only true faith, but that all others are outside of God’s protection. If I want exclusivity, it is found in a country club. Unfortunately, exclusive also implies “keep out”. In the Muslim faith, this led to the incomprehensible status of dhimmi, in which non-believers were levied a tax that allowed them the privilege of living in Muslim communities. How generous. Polytheism, composed of multiple competing ideas, generally avoids such outright conflict that has befallen the monotheistic ones, as history has proven. Even the pacifism of Buddhism has not kept it from being militant when it has become allied with political power. If the reader is interested in a very scholarly study of the hallucinatory basis for monotheism, try the much lauded Julian Jaynes’, The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.

Further reinforcing my reluctance to believe that an all-knowing and powerful deity is responsible for my being here is the performance of the human race in the latter part of our existence. For any deity to have produced a truly miraculous plant and animal life to blanket this earth and then to have the capstone of this effort, Mankind, to exert dominion over it all, places great doubt on the creator’s wisdom. The performance of rapacious humanity against plants, animals, and its own kind, capable of wars, murder, infanticide, patricide, matricide, or, as Evan Connell wrote in Deus Lo Volt*, Malicide, everywhere one looks. To believe in the face of all this is truly a leap of faith. I say, without mirth, God messed up. I stumble at the inconsistency of a core Christian belief, that God created man in His image, in sin (how can that be?), so he would qualify for His salvation. In the face of all this, for us to call one of ourselves an “Animal” as the ultimate derogation is incomprehensible. An elephant does not kill its wife or children.

 Next comes the undeniable history of the performance of the Monotheistic faiths. To the never-ending agony of the entire world, the discord, to understate the reality, between the three major religions is understandable only by implicating the perpetrator of this conflict, Mohammedinism. A religion, if it can be called that, originating in bloodshed, hatred, intragisense, bellicosity and terror, and holding the only keys for entry into heaven, has no option other than to be in an eternal state of antagonism with all who are not within the very strict borders of its belief. It cannot qualify as a belief or faith, since it is a militant political system. Its followers cowed into religious serfdom, producing very little over many centuries. Its greatest terror efforts are against its own followers, not the least of which are the rigid requirements for cleansing after toilet, as an example. Unfortunately, Christianism and Judaism have been drawn into this perpetual conflictual state despite their essential goodness and protestations of love for humanity. A further misfortune is that they will always be tarred by this interaction with Mohammed and so all three will share the taint of their militant history forever.

Now the requirements to be considered as qualified to be a Christian faithful. I often wonder if many, of a Sunday morning, mouthing the words told them, truly understand to what they are agreeing. At the head of the list, the Divinity of Christ. This, I find difficult to accept on many levels, the topmost one being that His coming was long predicted before His arrival, as far back as Genesis, so He was expected. The hope and anticipation of His arrival were realized when all the stars aligned. The concept of divinity is a complex one and not so simple as to say, “He is Divine”. This proclamation is often the prelude to a round of circular reasoning in an effort to prove the validity of the assertion. Next, consider the Virgin Birth. Once again, a direct consequence of His divinity. To invoke parthenogenesis further dilutes my ability to believe. Then to accept His resurrection and reappearance on the third day and the promise of His return at some future day places a space far too long for me to leap. And finally, but not least, to accept the Bible as the word of God. This latter does not prevent it from being an admirable guidepost for human interaction, regardless of its source. All this seems to be an unnecessarily convoluted way to convince one into faith. I have not the least hesitation in recognizing Jesus’ existence and his teachings. Those are more than sufficient for a complete belief system and way of life. Anything more than that is unnecessary.

One cannot but be dismayed by the internecine conflict both within Islam and Christianism. The canonical fight between Shi’a and Sunni from the very first days of the formation of the Muslim faith is displayed as a mark of honor. The splintering of the many Protestant sects borders on childishness, not to exclude the rift between Rome and Constantinople. Then there is the offensive history of the Catholic Church from the Inquisition, lasting 700 years, to its massive acquisition of wealth and properties throughout Europe, and the ostentatious display of hierarchy and expression of religious pomp and trappings that are as distant from Christ’s humble vision as to be its antithesis. The personal behavior of some of the Popes is inexcusable.

Further, I may be constitutionally endowed to not say “Why me” or “Woe is me.” It is my sense that one who believes in a divine god is more likely to resort to those sentiments when dealt a bad hand, as if chosen to suffer a fate not to be desired. Having faith in a god does not isolate one from life’s vicissitudes, and possibly makes them more painful, as if chosen to suffer. For now, I resort to a system which does not qualify as a faith, but results in less querulosity, nevertheless leaving one still in some degree of psychic discomfort and doubt, Quantum Uncertainty. I find the randomness of Quantum Theory to be far more compatible with my interpretation of human destiny than the somewhat hopeful, naïve way that those who believe regard their own path through life. Life is very uneven and even-handed. The response to my own problems is, “That’s the luck of the draw.” So suck it up and go on to greet the next challenge.

My regard for the truly faithful. By that I mean those who have given thought to that to which they agree on Sunday mornings. I envy their faith and admire them for it. I am a nightmare to those who call themselves “atheists”, for I am one who wants there to be as many believers in God as possible. I am offended by the atheists taking issue with a religious expression in a park or having the Ten Commandments on public display. This is a synthetic and contrived offense. Those who believe tend to be nice people, steadfast, stalwart, dependable, bulwarks of the community. It is not difficult to respect them, and I have no wish to be other than the way they are. Since the God quest is universal and composed of God’s imperfect creations, the end result will reflect those very imperfections. We’re stuck with what we have been given. We should not expect God to change the way he first made us. I have not the least hesitation in granting others a belief that does not harm others or agreeing with mine. That is the sole requirement for my fellow creatures.

Finally, my quest to find God again is fraught with ambivalence. The current dependence on a scientific theory to replace a belief in a deity is a poor alternative. It is just an agreement and not a faith. It lacks the warmth and affection one finds in a living congregation. A place of faith needs to smell like one, not an office or classroom. This is why the Catholic and Orthodox churches have the feel of being closer to God, while the Protestant ones now seem like community centers.

The ultimate question is: why is there a universal wish for a connection with a deity? That wish is not embodied in a society; it is rather the cumulation of individual desires. When one is on the journey to find a home in the heart of a god, he is motivated by a very personal, individual intent. The benefit to the society in which he lives is not his concern. That ideal is embodied in political, not religious purpose. I, too, will stay on my unique journey to faith, and hope to remain untarnished and undeterred by the imperfections of those who travel this path along my side, as I carry my own. This travel is not different from the one portrayed in Canterbury Tales, by Chaucer, each pilgrim seeking his own ends, without a thought about England. Each of us carrying our own foibles and purposes while on this trip, headed to the same destination but still alone in our designs. If we all seek obedience to Jesus’ teachings our solitary journey will not leave us feeling lonely, or worse, abandoned.

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[*] God Wills It. The motto of the First Crusade, 1095, devised by Pope Urban II.

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Myron Gananian is a retired physician living in California.

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