Ernie Boxall
Sep 2, 2018 · 3 min read

The image of god was, in the beginning of my religious experience, absolutely inconsequential. I went to Sunday School because my parents sent me there and it was a mere 50 yards from the house.

I had no interest in god, the bible, church or scriptures what-so-ever. The school had a football team and that was the draw.

As I added a few more years, I despised the groups which stood on corners calling everyone who passed a “sinner”. It was 10 am and I’d only just got up.

In the teenage years,in the 60’s, ‘god’ wore football boots and was named Mackay or Greaves. He played in a white shirt for Tottenham Hotspurs. He was also a female or more accurately females.

It was, as with Jack, my years from 18 to 20 that god, the white, christian model, became the nemisis of student years. Rock and Roll and long hair placed the ‘church’ at The Pen and Wig pub on a Saturday night.

As the years passed, my concern for spirituality bacame a philosophical question rather than a physical one. I despised all churches, (few if any built as houses of worship, more as status symbols) and formed a special hatred for Popes, Arch Bishops and all men in the collars-just politicians in frocks as far as I was/am concerned.

I could never understand why people who survived devastating climactic or man-made disasters always thanked ‘God’ for their life. *Does that place God as some kind of bingo-caller, “Number 21, you turn is up. Number 31, you are safe”. I kept hearing that “God Is Love” but then the history of this God was always one of murdering opponents to the early Jewish populace. Then it became a focus of slaughtering the opponents of white christians.

In 2007, I was sitting opposite a friend in America. She told me of her best friend, the daughter of a Lakota chief wo look ed after eagles.
“Can I meet him?” I asked.
“No, he’s a very private man and….” The phone rang. It was the daughter inviting us to a gathering of the tribe that weekend.

I listened to the chief tell the tribe’s story to the young men and women. I spoke with the chief and I danced with the Lakota…and then everyone was invited to form a circle around the fire.

His daughter came out, with a bowl full of Sage and Sweet Grass which she held to the fire until smoke appeared. She held the bowl aloft so that the smoke rose skywards. She spoke a prayer to the East, turned and spoke a prayer to the West, a prayer to the North and the South. She held the bowl above her head and the prayer went towards the Sun, lowered the bowl so that the prayer was offered to the Earth.

At the end of this ceremony, I had tears in my eyes. “Here” I thought, was “something I can believe in!” There was a prayer of thanks for the trees, the water, the Sun, the Moon, the Earth and all things on it. Nowhere was there a plea to smite the enemy or send plagues. Just thanks. The thanks were sent to Wakantanka (Great Spirit).

That was my introduction to spirituality-more closely linked to the tao than to a physical ‘man’. It was delivered in an open field not a building full of gold and silver trinckets. Ir was delivered by a woman. It was delivered by people who were honorable (unlike the present religious rogues involved in scandal)

The point: Shy away from anyone announcing a physical (male) god, sitting on some throne somewhere “up there”. The only god worth following is already inside you. Your spirit, and the spirit of your ancestors is the true spirit to follow. Just be thankful for the Earth and all upon it.

    Ernie Boxall

    Written by

    StoryTeller/Native American Flute player and unwitting warrior. I live in Leamington, UK. Writer of stories, teller of stories and retired businessman .

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