How can you say you know God?

Sometimes as part of a thought experiment, I will consider what a theoretical path back into theism would be like for me. This can be fun, since I know a lot more about religion and Christianity than I used to and can incorporate various new tidbits into my theoretical religion (Jesus: probe sent by emotionless cosmic space computer to help it understand humankind?). However, I tend to immediately run into a problem when I try to think of how to create a workable conception of God: There is absolutely no way to understand what any god is like without some kind of tangible evidence. Could I build a philosophical construction of a god that I think sounds plausible? Well, sure. I'm a writer. I invent plausible characters, including deities, all the time. But how would I jump the gap from theorizing to believing it as a truth? I can't believe in something when I don't even know what its characteristics are.

Are there many gods or just one? Can the gods be male, female, genderless? Are the gods part of the universe or outside it entirely, or are they what created the universe? Do they notice humans? Meddle in our affairs? Judge us? Talk to us? Love us? Prank us? Various religions will say different things and often present assorted "proofs" of their claims (none of which stand up to factual scrutiny, as far as I know). How can I know any of the answers to these questions in the absence of some kind of proof that doesn't disappear in a puff of "you must have faith" or "it was divinely revealed to XYZ" once examined? Claiming any knowledge of a god without proof is intellectual treason but religious people seem perfectly happy to do this and still insist that their version of god is 100% obvious and correct. It's bizarre.

I get extremely uneasy when I hear people saying they have a personal relationship with a god, or that the god talks to them. For such people I would ask them this: How often does your god tell you something you could not have known by yourself? Sure, once in awhile, thoughts that happen to be predictive cross our mind ("I wonder if my friend Jessica is feeling okay. I'll give her a call." And it turns out Jessica had been having a bad day). But if your god is really another person outside yourself, you should be hearing independently-confirmable new truths constantly, just as we do from other human beings who talk to us ("The identity of the smoke monster is revealed on tonight's episode of LOST." "The city is changing trash pickup day to Thursday." "Did you know Bob got a raise?"). Instead the sorts of things gods usually tell people are commands ("Invade Iraq." "Become a missionary in Ghana."), judgments ("You worthless sinner!"), or soothing platitudes ("You are forgiven." "Do not be afraid, my child"). Interestingly, these are all things people are perfectly capable of thinking up in their own heads. Why doesn't any god give us new information as a matter of course? They only tell us what we already know.

No one knows anything about god(s). That's why religions vary by culture. That's why religious groups splinter and splinter instead of converging on truth. That's why it's so damn frustrating trying to get theology to work. And that's why the gods people talk to are indistinguishable from invented characters, or, to use a worn-out comparison, imaginary friends. Someone, somewhere made up every god that there is. Simple as that.