1.  Heresies are misconceptions of god

Religion is not a plant that has grown from one seed; it is like a lake that has been fed by countless springs.  It is a great pool of living water, mingled from many sources and tainted with much impurity.  It is synthetic in its nature; it becomes simpler from original complexities; the sediment subsides.

A life perfectly adjusted to its surroundings is a life without mentality; no judgment is called for, no inhibition, no disturbance of the instinctive flow of perfect reactions.  Such a life is bliss, or nirvana.  It is unconsciousness below dreaming.  Consciousness is discord evoking the will to adjust; it is inseparable from need.  At every need consciousness breaks into being.  Imperfect adjustments, needs, are the rents and tatters in the smooth dark veil of being through which the light of consciousness shines—­the light of consciousness and will of which God is the sun.

So that every need of human life, every disappointment and dissatisfaction and call for help and effort, is a means whereby men may and do come to the realisation of God.

There is no cardinal need, there is no sort of experience in human life from which there does not come or has not come a contribution to men’s religious ideas.  At every challenge men have to put forth effort, feel doubt of adequacy, be thwarted, perceive the chill shadow of their mortality.  At every challenge comes the possibility of help from without, the idea of eluding frustration, the aspiration towards immortality.  It is possible to classify the appeals men make for God under the headings of their chief system of effort, their efforts to understand, their fear and their struggles for safety and happiness, the craving of their restlessness for peace, their angers against disorder and their desire for the avenger; their sexual passions and perplexities. . . .

Each of these great systems of needs and efforts brings its own sort of sediment into religion.  Each, that is to say, has its own kind of heresy, its distinctive misapprehension of God.  It is only in the synthesis and mutual correction of many divergent ideas that the idea of God grows clear.  The effort to understand completely, for example, leads to the endless Heresies of Theory.  Men trip over the inherent infirmities of the human mind.  But in these days one does not argue greatly about dogma.  Almost every conceivable error about unity, about personality, about time and quantity and genus and species, about begetting and beginning and limitation and similarity and every kink in the difficult mind of man, has been thrust forward in some form of dogma.  Beside the errors of thought are the errors of emotion.  Fear and feebleness go straight to the Heresies that God is Magic or that God is Providence; restless egotism at leisure and unchallenged by urgent elementary realities breeds the Heresies of Mysticism, anger and hate call for God’s Judgments, and the stormy emotions of sex gave mankind the Phallic God.  Those who find themselves possessed by the new spirit in religion, realise very speedily the necessity of clearing the mind of all these exaggerations, transferences, and overflows of feeling.  The search for divine truth is like gold washing; nothing is of any value until most has been swept away.