I’ve not read Spinoza, but this idea has for most of my life seemed fairly self-evident. Something clearly seems to exist, I’m not the biggest most important thing in the something, though I am a part of it. Do I believe in God? Not per se - but I do believe there is something incomprehensibly larger than I am, and that in and of itself deserves a little respect and contemplation.

My religious parents didn’t see it that way of course.