The god thing for most people in my life is honestly an amalgamation of their values, using an old psychadelic term. My classical childhood stories anthropomorphized it, but with a very with a dark non-Disney’esque ending; They torture to death a nice schizoaffective vagabond bastard who was a street magician, story teller, etc, because he got full of himself and started saying he was god. That’s not the fucked up part though. They felt really guilty about that, but because he forgave them while they were torturing him to death, they now need to be as forgiving of all tresspasses as they can functionally muster as a civilization. Still, the entire concept of human sacrifices of good man-god is pleasing the lord into mercy like a burnt offering of sheep from the first half of the book is alarming. Also there is a weird obsession with eating the guy symbolically with communion. The CS Lewis types aren’t really focused on these last couple parts. I’m not 100% into everything I read or, even write, either.