Chapter 1: Understanding Q.E.D.

The abbreviation "Q.E.D." (or "QED") stands for the Latin phrase "quod erat demonstrandum," which translates to "that which was to be demonstrated." This notation is commonly used at the conclusion of mathematical proofs to signify their completion. ~ Wolfram

In a review from The New Yorker about a book by an anthropologist discussing the role of belief and prayer among evangelicals, I encountered the term "QED," prompting me to delve deeper into its meaning. The article referenced a church pamphlet advocating for the Bible's trustworthiness, citing Hebrews 6:18, which asserts, "It is impossible for God to lie." This led to a contemplative pause on the validity of such claims.

What particularly intrigued me was the anthropologist's remark that, regardless of the actual existence of the deity these believers worship, their faith appears to have a therapeutic effect. Moreover, their beliefs manifest in genuine experiences of communion with their god. While the anthropologist perceives this as a valid rationale for their religious practices, the more skeptical reviewer from The New Yorker questions whether the act of seeking God can be divorced from the fundamental inquiry of whether a God exists at all.

This line of thought brought to mind my first spiritual mentor's insistence on beginning with Plato's dialogues. In Plato's era, the belief in Greek gods was waning as the culture that fostered them began to dissolve. Plato's focus on ideas, especially the concept of Good, raises essential questions: What constitutes goodness? How do we discover it? Although it has been years since I last engaged with those dialogues, I recall that our term "idea" is derived from the Greek verb ἰδεῖν (idein), meaning "to see." Plato's pursuit was to grasp the essence of absolute Goodness, not merely its representations.

On my own spiritual journey, as outlined in A Course in Miracles, I have come to understand that God, much like Good, should not be viewed as a tangible entity but rather as an idea. The course suggests that we, too, are ideas, and the world itself consists solely of ideas. According to the teachings, our perception is shaped by our beliefs; thus, if we were to cease believing in the material world, it might very well vanish, revealing God in its stead.

The assertion that this truth cannot be proved, except through personal exploration of the Course's teachings, resonates deeply. When I first picked up the blue-covered book 35 years ago, I anticipated that mastering its content would take a year or two. However, the profound fear that arises when questioning the solidity of perceived reality necessitates a gradual journey to avoid overwhelming myself.

I often find myself wanting to give up, yet each time I attempt to revert to my previous beliefs, I discover I have progressed too far to simply return. The reality I perceive can be unsettling, and I repeatedly return to the thought experiments that form the backbone of the A Course in Miracles.

The reviewer's question, "Can the practice of finding God be so easily separated from the crucial question of whether there is a God to find?" is one I deeply appreciate. It invites reflection on whether the quest for peace of mind can also be disentangled from the inquiry of whether such peace exists. How can I ascertain the existence of something before experiencing it? If you claim to have found God, it does little to influence my understanding, as skepticism about the validity of such claims is prevalent.

Is anything truly separate from my perception of it? Not everyone appreciates such inquiries. I inherited a fascination for these philosophical dilemmas from my physicist father, yet my interest in physics itself did not follow. In my search for solace, I realized that physics, with its disheartening conclusions, was not the answer I sought. A Course in Miracles has provided me with comfort by applying logic and reasoning to the profound concepts embedded in various religious traditions.

Let us entertain the idea that a benevolent God exists. Just as researchers must first believe in the possibility of a vaccine for a disease before pursuing it, we must assume the existence of what we seek. If the world is, in fact, a collective illusion as suggested by A Course in Miracles, it may indeed reveal our ability to imagine realities that feel strikingly tangible. So how do we discern whether our discoveries in seeking God—or any other truth—are genuine?

If the tranquility I find through meditation dissipates once I cease the practice, was it ever real? Similarly, does the comfort I gain from A Course in Miracles vanish when I stop engaging with it?

I find myself uncertain.

Socrates might concur. In Plato's Apology, he asserts, "I only seem to be wiser than [others] in that what I do not know, I do not think I know."

What I do know is that I derive comfort from the journey that A Course in Miracles offers, largely because its philosophical framework resonates with me. I comprehend the pursuit of evangelicals, yet I struggle to fathom how a belief system lacking rational grounding could yield solace. Perhaps not everyone shares my inclination toward analytical thought, and I am also perplexed by how individuals who eschew spirituality find their own comfort.

It is remarkable how many paths exist in the world, all purportedly leading to God, as A Course in Miracles suggests. Perhaps time will reveal the truth behind that statement.

Section 1.1: The Philosophical Underpinnings of Belief

The exploration of belief systems often raises questions about their foundations. To enhance understanding, consider the following video:

This video titled "What is Q.E.D.? (Philosophical Definition)" discusses the philosophical implications of Q.E.D., providing insights into its meaning and application.

Subsection 1.1.1: The Nature of Q.E.D. in Context