By “transcendent,” I mean a God beyond matter—present, not some absentee landlord—nothing like Voltaire’s radical French deism, which slid into secular atheism. Classical deism, where I plant my flag, hunts for a God reason and science can back, free from materialism’s tight grip. The Big Bang kicks it off—13.8 billion years ago, matter and time sparked into being, driven by some unknown shove. Science nods at it, widely accepted, but it rattles atheism’s core: nothing exists beyond the senses. That old line’s cracking now—reason’s got room to breathe.
Take dark matter and dark energy—NASA pegs them at 95% of the universe, unseen yet real, tugging galaxies into shape and stretching the cosmos wide. We don’t catch them directly—just their pull on gravity and expansion—but they’re there, shoving materialism to explain what’s past the tangible. In my view, this hints at a Supreme Being—beyond matter, yet nudging it along. It echoes Mark 12:29’s “The Lord our God, the Lord is one,” a unity Judaism holds tight, not the Trinity’s Hellenistic split. It’s no stretch to rethink ancient texts through this lens—or eyeball nature’s complexity with fresh doubt about random chance.
Classical deism welds reason, science, and faith—sifting old tales for what holds up. Dark matter and energy fit the bill, not as proof but as a nudge. I’m not dusting off dead religions here—just pitching a transcendent God rooted in what we see. In my electronics classes, I teach capacitive reactance—hook a non-polarized capacitor to 120 VAC, and you’ll clock voltage and current, but no power shifts. They’re out of phase—present, measurable, separate—until you toss in resistance, like a bulb, and light flares. Dark matter and energy strike me the same—unseen, propping up our universe, carving galaxies and atoms. To me, that smells like purpose, a design rigged for life. Abiogenesis—life from raw chemistry—stumbles without a full story; fossil gaps mock seamless luck.
This isn’t pantheism—God mashed into matter—but a distinct force, separate yet engaged, like voltage and current in my lab. Digging into geology, I see layers too intricate for blind origins—not a clincher, just a hunch. A transcendent God could mean purpose, morality baked in, lining up with deism and Judaism’s “one” (Mark 12:29), not Nicaea’s forced “three.” Science backs it—the Big Bang’s kick, dark forces’ pull—over materialism’s pinched view. Reason trumps the senses-only crowd: something beyond matter’s hum holds this all together, and I’d bet it’s no accident.
Acknowledgment: Grok, an AI by xAI, smoothed this case. My view—transcendence over materialism—stands on reason.
