Ojuice5001

I've always believed that humans are to gods as cats are to humans, and the latest development in my experience with cats is a good example of this, and in fact makes a good parable. I must start at the beginning, around Christmas/New Year's Day, when I first got the cat.

My mom thought it would be a good idea to get me a kitten for Christmas, and I did. I chose a playful kitten who reminded me of my mom's dog, Zoe, in terms of both coloration and personality. Like Zoe, this kitten was interested in exploration, very sweet, intelligent, and demanding. The animal shelter had named her Mystic, and I kept this name rather than giving her one of my own. The name has no conscious significance in religious terms, but unquestionably there's an unconscious one. At the present time she is eight months old; about twice as old as she was when I got her.

Mystic enjoys playing with any small object that is suited for the purpose; that's also something I like to do. She likes sleeping in my bed at night; and I like sleeping in my bed at night too. She gets to eat her fill of cat food, and whenever I eat cereal (which is quite often) she meows for me to share the milk. I always give her one spoonful; no more, no less.

Busy streets are, of course, a dangerous phenomenon. They're dangerous for both humans and cats, but humans have decided that it's necessary to impose this hazard on themselves, while preventing their cats and dogs from anything that comes close to putting themselves in harm's way. As it happens, my apartment is fairly near to a particular busy street. Not very close, but close enough that a free-wandering cat will find the street sooner or later.

So Mystic is not allowed to go outside. But she's smart enough to understand that there's a world beyond the four walls of my apartment. She is fascinated when she hears footsteps outside, or looks out the window. And long before she had ever gone outside on her own, she was already trying to get out the door, both by sneaking and by begging. Neither of them worked until recently.

But there is another way to get outside: through the window. Windows are covered by screens, but if you scratch at the screen enough it will tear, and a hole will appear. A few days ago, Mystic had made a hole big enough that she could reach through and tear off leafy twigs from the azalea bush that is just outside the living-room window. She's always glad to find a new toy.

But this night, Mystic had made the hole big enough that she could actually get through. She got to explore the larger world--which was one of the three most interesting things in her life, ranking up there with milk and with yours truly.

When Mystic first passed through, I had no way of being sure she had left, instead of being in some hiding place within the apartment. I went out and looked for her, and when I came back, she was right inside the door. The second time, I was paying enough attention to notice her going out. When I went out a second time, and immediately came back in, Mystic was reemerging through the window.
Although I live on the ground floor, she still hasn't yet mustered the courage to jump through the azalea branches and onto the ground. Who knows what the future holds, though?

Mystic had always been interested in going outside, and I had always felt like if she got out of the house on her own, she's passed the test. So I let her go out through the door, and followed her around the four-AM, apartment-courtyard environment. She didn't get around to exploring any of the grassy areas, but spent her time sniffing around the cement walkways and noticing the leaves and bugs that were to be found. She also sniffed the door of Apartment 60; apparently this house is inhabited by cats.

I feel like when a cat gets outside on her own, she's earned it. So for the future, I suppose I'll get a leash for cats (they do make those), and I can take her for walks like a dog. But the reason I call this incident a parable is the idea with which I began: Humans are to gods as cats are to humans.

So the gods are always interested in controlling the world and the creatures in it; that's an unchanging fact about their nature. At the same time, there are some ways of being under the gods' control that are more free than others. For instance, a shepherd watches his flock of sheep pretty thoroughly, but doesn't do the same with his other animals, like say his cats.

So what's the relevance of all this? Well, when we were Australopithecine apes, we were unaware of the gods, and they ruled these creatures without their, in the same way as they rule the other species of ape. Next came the time when the gods first revealed themselves to man, and this was a period of benign cooperation between men and gods. Then came a period of greater servility among humans, when they began to be awed by the sky above them, and somewhat afraid of the earthly world that the gods controlled. Next come the incidents which we remember with myths like Prometheus and Pandora, or Eve and the Serpent, which granted us a greater measure of indepenence or freedom. In historical times, the self-named cultural movement called the Enlightenment had similar results.

The idea of independence or freedom has relevance for the great theological question of how the gods are related to humanity. Especially since most modern cultures place a high value on it. (I personally don't take it as seriously, but most people do.) How does the contemporary situation add up?

There are some gods--Allah, for example--who cling to the old idea of a humanity that feels it owes complete obedience to them. But most of them are more adaptable than that. Yahweh likes the people who still feel like being servile, but he can easily be happy without it. He's able to change whenever the costs of doing otherwise are high enough. The post-Enlightenment gods are very well-suited to the modern world; after all, they're the ones who invented the Enlightenment and the world order it led to. Part of the reason for the gods' inflexibility is that this makes it much easier to be taken seriously by their worshippers--so this means that the Old Pagan Gods can adjust all the more easily because, with fewer human worshippers, they have less need to conform to centuries-old traditions.

Religions still exist, with some people holding to ideas like unconditional obedience, and anthropomorphism, in their full vigor. But many people tend to favor a softer approach to religion, some kind of belief that has less relevance for daily life. The rule of the gods is in no danger, however, because when conscious religion fails, there's are always other, less direct, manipulation to work with. The gods are still as skilled at inspiring ideas, and manipulating cultures; just because we humans are less aware of it doesn't mean it's not happening.

To sum up: the gods have appeared to stand in the way of our independence, when such obstructiveness held up the status quo. But today a culture of freedom has arisen, with both a real and an apparent increase in independence from the gods. A cat can change its relationships with humans, if its will is strong enough, and the same is true with us and the gods. But this doesn't change the kind of benevolent lordship that characterizes our relationship with cats--they still live in a world ruled by humans. And in the same way, our relations with the gods go through changes--but never in ways as fundamental as someone might imagine. The world is still ruled by gods even though humans have both more independence, and, related to this, a lesser ability to perceive them.