The Word of God

Today finds me theological. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the Sabbath. Maybe it’s the fact that today, on the Sabbath, I went to church for the first time in a long time. Maybe it’s the fact that after church I talked theology over lunch with the preacher. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m wearing a sweater and a scarf, and people who wear sweaters and scarves are supposed to think about stuff like God and politics - and not about things like “Why does my dog always fart in the car?”

So today on B&C I am going to tackle the issue of God. I know what you’re thinking... “What is he thinking!?” but bear with me and let’s see if this doesn’t do us both some good. This won’t come down heavy handed. I promise to keep it light and breezy and even a little bit sleazy. It’ll be a blast. After all, it is the religious time of year. ‘Tis the season to ponder bigger issues than simply, “What in the world am I gonna get your girlfriend for Christmas that she doesn’t already have and still actually needs?” Or, “Why am I buying presents for your girlfriend?”

I think I’ll start this off with a personal story. Kind of like a sermon… just like a sermon. This is a sermon. Excuse me while I climb the steps to my pulpit. Step-step-step-step-step-step-step-step (it’s one of those tall pulpits) -step-step-step-step Twelve steps. HaHa. I couldn’t resist. OK, let us bow our heads.

About two years ago, on another foray into church, I had an epiphany. No, I’m not a prophet, so don’t go trying to touch my robes and sandals. I can’t cure your acne. I just had a sort of moment of clarity. In one instance I thought I had it pretty much figured out.

With the thought fresh in my mind, I grabbed a piece of paper from the attendance slip holder on the back of the pew – slips of paper that I formerly used for making paper airplanes and drawing crude likenesses of placid beaches, complete with man eating sharks. Which, I guess, makes them not so placid beaches, but none the less a nice place to take a picnic. But I digress. I jotted down the essence of my moment’s clarity as best I could. Then I put this slip of paper into my pocket so I could take it home and keep it in a safe place. I have since lost the paper. But I still remember the essence of its essence.

In essence, I realized that we each come to an understanding of God in our own way. This seems like a no-brainer to the more thoughtful of us. But for the less thoughtful, like Southern Baptists and others who only allow themselves to consider religious texts - like The Bible - in a strict, literal sense, this is a big and blasphemous step. What I mean by my assertion is simple. We all think differently, viewing reality in distinct ways, and we must use our own realities to explain the unexplainable. OK, maybe it’s not very simple. Maybe I would benefit from the use of parables. That’s a time tested method of success.

My father, for example, is very mathematically minded and analytical. He is in good company in his assertion that the basis of all the universe can be explained by mathematic theory. He looks at the order of things, and the sheer odds that patterns crop up so often out of seeming chaos, as an indication of a larger design. And then, in the instances where patterns and physical laws can not explain the Universal order of things, we find the indeterminate space where a outside force is at work. In a drastic simplification of his views, he believes that God exists in the unseen crevices of black holes and in between the particles of particles of atomic parts and particles.

I, on the other hand, suck at math. I like words. When faced with the daunting task of passing at least one college level math class I chose to take symbolic logic. This is the study of sound arguments, using letters and words instead of numbers. (I made one of my only A’s, woo hoo!) It is out of this study, along with thousands of dollars worth of other rhetoric and wordicious classes, that my scribblings on the back of the church attendance slip emerged.

I came to see God as a writer. I don’t mean he penned the book of the Mormons. That stuff’s crazy. I think he writes in much more broad strokes. So, here’s my argument just like I jotted it.

Premise A: We are animals capable of symbolic communication. (We associate complex ideas with simple symbols: Letters are symbols that represent sounds. Words are symbols for ideas. That raggedy old t-shirt with the pit stains that you insist on wearing every time your team plays another team is a symbol of your devotion to certain set of players’ ability to put a ball in a hole [which is an act that seems symbolic of something else entirely – told you I’d get sleazy])

Premise B: God created us in his own image. (Admittedly, this is the weak part of the argument, but humor me. I’m getting at something)

Premise C: A+B=C - God is a being capable of communicating through symbols. (All the stratified tenants of religion that we get bogged down in and argue over are simply the symbols of God. They're written in every conceivable form of language, but saying the same thing.)

If you accept that, then believing in something gets a lot simpler. No longer do you have to believe that the facts surrounding a bunch really old stories are truths not to be disputed. You just have to acknowledge that these stories represent something. You can take faith from the fact that the things you hear and see that seem to hold power are a symbols of a bigger idea. Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Vishnu, and Ganesh all start to point to the same thing.

There’s a communication going on. From some outside source, ideas are getting put out there that are bigger than us all… God’s sending a pretty simple message written with a big sharpie marker that says “Man, something’s up.” And for right now, that’s good enough for me.

-Post script: OK… It might not be nearly that simple. Moments of clarity blur the more you look at them. It’s sort of like those weird Magic Eye pictures at the mall. You stare and stare until you see it, but then when you point at it you look silly. And hey, I’m no theologian. Just go scarf up your sweater and think about it on your own

Post Post Script: Jrock has taken the time and liberty to express my thoughts in diagram form. It's a well known fact that diagrams rock. And this one has like a 5 minute drum solo and a driving bass line. I think you've really captured my message Jrock. You are truly touched... in the junk.