The Curious Yam

D August 8th, 2010

I dearly long for coffee with God.

There is this attentive blindness that we seem to have inherited from some of our religious traditions that has us convinced he is ready and willing to have conversations with us.  Being as relationally driven as I am, I’ve translated that into a certain expectation with what a ‘personal relationship’ with God is.  I want a conversational dialogue, the opportunity to discuss and understand what he was thinking, where he is coming from, and why we are swimming through this ocean of chaos.  And to my disappointment, such a conversation is not feasible, does not exist.

But still, in my mind’s eye, I see me and God, sitting across from each other in a Starbucks, discussing existence, purpose, suffering, and the eternity of the soul.  I dearly, dearly long for that conversation.  And I fear it may never come.

Tags: God, Religion

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D March 25th, 2010

try
{
	while(true)
	{
		Boss assigns task A.
		I find professional interest in task A and begin work.
		10 minutes later, customer Rob requests task B.
		I inform customer Rob I'm busy with task A, but will assist him later.
		5 minutes later, Good Joke interrupts concentration for task A.
		3 minutes later, missent email interrupts concentration for task A.
		2 minutes later, customer Kari requests task C indicating urgency.
		1 minute later, cell phone indicates Important New Communication.
		.5 minutes later, I realize the insignificance of Task A on a cosmic scale.
		.2 minutes later, I write this anecdote.
		0 minutes later.  Nothing accomplished, and it doesn't matter.
	}
}
catch (heatDeathOfUniverseException e);
{
	// sigh.
}
finally
{
	// never occurs
}

Tags: Entropy, Existence, God

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D September 8th, 2009

I was recently asked what I thought the next phase of belief for the post-fundamentalist Christian would be.  My simplest answer being to walk away in disgust and declare themselves agnostic after witnessing the various abuses of God first hand. The more complex being to take the best parts of their experience and reconcile them with a more rational understanding of the world.

And here I am, actively choosing to not walk away, for various purposeful reasons:

• If my perceptions are correct (and truly, that is all we have) I have experienced the influence of God, not necessarily ‘talking’ to me, but certainly directing me (only twice, and it had to do with pursuing after my wife, and having a child… no small things)

• Christ was on to something. I can’t *prove* he was God, but I will make that leap of faith for someone who just *got it*. Again, choosing to believe in him. And yes, the bible is fallible, so the gospels might not be perfect. But the spirit of Christ is in there, and that’s what I’m following.

• Do you remember the fundamentalist ‘tactic’ Christians could use for helping non-Christians understand the concept of God where:
  

  “Let’s say this whole chalk board is all knowledge possible. Now lets assume that this dot is the knowledge that you possess. Don’t you think you could have missed the knowledge of God’s existence?”

  The irony of this tactic is that the reverse is true:

  “Don’t you, Sir Christian, think you could have missed the knowledge that God doesn’t exist/doesn’t care?”

  And beyond that I realized that both are true: I just CAN’T know either way. My little febrile mind, and my limited capacity to understand all knowledge, space/time etc etc. It is beyond human grasp.

So I’ve reduced it to my experiences and a logic problem:

I’m relying on the infinite power and wisdom of God to catch my ultimate fall into the (possibility) of hell. I’m doing my best to understand something completely not understandable, and if I’m right and he exists, and he acknowledges my efforts, he may accept me. To follow the structure of that belief: he created me with the limited intelligence and capacity to understand him, so I rely on the fact that he knows I’m inherently flawed.

If I’m wrong, and somehow picked the wrong path, or God turns out to be a lot more diabolical that I hope him to be… well, its a Shakespearean tragedy at that point.

Or, it could be a gigantic cosmic joke. But that’s more Douglas Adams’ territory.

Essentially I’m a discriminating pluralist who is a Christian. There’s no way I can know with certainty that Christianity is ‘the one-truth’.  I’ve chosen to believe it because of my upbringing, personal experiences (‘Holy Spirit’ if you will) and the fact that Christ makes the most sense to me.

I irrationally believe in a God who threw this all together, and is watching us tear it apart.

Tags: Christianity, Fundamentalism, God, Religion

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Em September 8th, 2008

I know that brushing and flossing prevent plaque, tartar buildup, and cavities. I’m not entirely sure what tartar is, but I know cavities. I have had twenty-three cavities filled, and if I have anything to do with it I will not have another one.

And so tonight, I brush and floss. But not because it will prevent cavities. Tonight, I brush and floss my teeth because I know that it will prevent cavities. I know it. It is one thing, and perhaps the only thing, that I know.

I look in the mirror at the red aura around my eyes as I pluck plaque from between my teeth. Ben Folds sings Elton John from my computer:

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad*

I don’t know that I have faith in the truth. Can I ever know? Believing in what we hope for, and trusting in what we cannot see. Oh, but I would never believe if I didn’t believe it was true. How ridiculous would that be?

I can’t handle it. My toothbrush now in my mouth, I lean on the counter for support as I wince out a sob.

But I have no choice. I must believe; I’ve tasted moments without God, and they are desperate and despondent times. I simply cannot let go. To that I cling, while waves of doubt rage around me, loosening my grip and whitening my knuckles.

Others seem to have such an easy time of it. Faith is never a question to them, but an answer that brings hope, joy, and love! Faith is not my hope, but my burden. It rips into my unceasing rationality, refusing all explanation.

But I do not assume rationality to be the highest epistemology. It is one of many, useful only when it is useful and useless when it is not. It is so very easy; if not simple, everything is plain, and doubt is only a step in the process.

But not everything is plain. Some things are shrouded in impenetrable mystery.

And so I shoulder my faith, struggling underneath it. The God in whom I have faith gives me hope, and no matter what I do I cannot leave him. Perhaps Christian principles have been so deeply engrained in my soul that I cannot imagine life without them. Perhaps I cannot live without this hope. Perhaps he loves me too much.

I finish brushing my teeth and brush the tears from my cheeks. What to do now?

What, indeed?

*”Tiny Dancer,” Elton John

Tags: God

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