"But how does this account for such a radical difference in your religion?" I persisted.
She said she couldn't talk about the difference very intelligently, not being familiar with other religions, but that theirs seemed simple enough. Their great Mother Spirit was to them what their own motherhood was--only magnified beyond human limits. That meant that they felt beneath and behind them an upholding, unfailing, serviceable love--perhaps it was really the accumulated mother-love of the race they felt--but it was a Power.
"Just what is your theory of worship?" I asked her.
I found it singularly difficult to explain. This Divine Love which they felt so strongly did not seem to ask anything of them --"any more than our mothers do," she said.
"But surely your mothers expect honor, reverence, obedience, from you. You have to do things for your mothers, surely?"
"Oh, no," she insisted, smiling, shaking her soft brown hair. "We do things FROM our mothers--not FOR them. We don't have to do things FOR them--they don't need it, you know. But we have to live on--splendidly--because of them; and that's the way we feel about God."
I meditated again. I thought of that God of Battles of ours, that Jealous God, that Vengeance-is-mine God. I thought of our world-nightmare--Hell.
"You have no theory of eternal punishment then, I take it?"
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