As the image of God has changed across time, cultures and individuals, so has my image of God changed across my comparatively short lifetime. I grew up without any specific religious ideology in my own home, though I certainly was aware of the concept of God and did read parts of the Bible. Since I was not told to believe any specific thing at home many of my impressions of God came from friends and relatives.
During my early years in elementary school, when I was beginning to think about God, I remember a neighbor boy helping to educate me. He brought over a brochure and explained how I would burn in hell if I did or did not do certain things. The brochure was done with cartoons that displayed vivid images of great suffering. It is interesting to note that while it was very difficult to develop a clear understanding or impression of what God is, it was very easy to imagine hell. This particular theme would recur throughout my life in varying degrees.
As I moved from childhood towards adulthood, I visited various churches and picked up a number of different impressions. My best friend's Catholic church was one that I felt was quite ominous and I grew to associate this religion with scary movies like the Exorcist and The Omen. I also visited my grandfather's Episcopal church from time to time. This was far less frightening but still had a clear undercurrent of fear. It seems to me that many of what I consider "traditional religions" come with the double edged sword of ecstasy or horror.
Then, I became interested in my Aunt's Christian Science religion and I believe this was a turning point in my life. They do not believe in hell in the traditional sense and some of their ideas about God, from The Church of Christ, Scientist official website, include:
Some rather comforting words and finally a philosophy that made more sense, an all-powerful and loving being that does not tempt and then condemn its precious creations to eternal damnation. Eventually, however, I pulled back from Christian Science because I lacked the faith to fully accept the divine healing, specifically:
Later in my adulthood I became interested in eastern religions which include meditation and living in the moment. These are simple, but powerful, concepts that could be the subject of a whole different sermon.
Finally, one day, I strolled into this Fellowship. I was not really looking for anything spiritual at the time but rather following my bride to be, Deborah Cruise, who was a member. Even though I wasn't searching for anything, when I sat down in this come-as-you-are, no-nonsense, diverse and accepting environment, I knew I had found something very special that fit into my spiritual journey.
I think my journey over my short life may provide a mini example of other's journeys over time and cultures. Perhaps God has been described in so many ways at different times and places to fill the needs that existed at that place and time. Perhaps "God's Promise" was something to live for in an otherwise dismal existence. Perhaps it was a way to influence people to start helping each other, or at least stop hurting each other. Perhaps our understanding of God has evolved as we evolved. So what should I believe? I will explore this in my second refection.
In my first preaching class at Seminary, nearly 20 years ago, I received a surprising comment from my teacher. "Wonderful use of the metaphor," she wrote, "compelling... a good beginning... but Lisa, where does God fit in?"
God. Right. Ministry... Seminary... God. I knew instantly that she wasn't looking for a particular rendition of God. What she was suggesting, simply, is that I hadn't given the nature and substance of what I might call God much thought. And she was right. I had a confidence in something more than myself, but I hadn't really focussed on what that meant and how that impacted my life.
And I was in Seminary... studying to be a minister... what my godchild, at age 7, used to describe as a job where one "does God."
I, like Glenn, grew up with very little talk of God in our household. We were Unitarian Universalists, but of the humanist variety, and my father, a former Catholic, bristled at any "God talk" that might occur.
Now that was not necessarily true of every Unitarian Universalist household back then, nor, certainly, true of our history. Unitarians and Universalists have wrestled with images of God throughout our faith history. God imaging is open for discussion; that's one of the points of our faith. One of the disciplines of Unitarian Universalist spirituality is to embrace the truth within of our ground of being,\ of what we believe is the generating principle or principles of our existence, and have that truth live and grow and have being. Some call that truth God—some call that not-God—with infinite names or descriptions therein.
In retrospect, I realize that there were many who believed in presences and powers and a universal wholeness or organizing principle that I can give the name: "god," at times, for lack of a better term, in hopes of a unifying term, but that, too, poses problems.
Nonetheless, I was subtly trained to avoid the subject, so I didn't get to practice what I believed in that particular area.
Some Unitarian Universalists have been deeply wounded within their personal histories in the name of God—others have witnessed the use of God images to legitimize oppressive and destructive behavior. I am in agreement with much of the cynicism surrounding the enforced word "God" which has caused so much anguish, disillusionment, stifling of creativity and repression of healthy doubt.
Karen Armstrong writes in the introduction of her book, A History of God, that "creating gods is something that human beings have always done. When one religious idea ceases to work for them, it is simply replaced. These ideas disappear quietly, like the Sky God (of ancient myths), with no great fanfare."
Armstrong goes on to illustrate, primarily through the ideas of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, various progressions of thought around God. I would not call it an evolution of thought, for the characteristics of God shift, not because we are necessarily growing wiser or more advanced, but because of our context and circumstances, our fears and abilities, our approach to mysteries, and the changes of knowledge due to discoveries, whether scientific, cosmic or psychic.
There are images now that can parallel images of ancient myths and mysticisms, and there are images which are new because they have been adapted to modern technology. She makes it clear, however, that paying attention to our imaging of God is important.
"Human beings cannot endure emptiness and desolation," she writes, "they will fill the vacuum by creating a new focus of meaning." "The idols of fundamentalism," she continues, "are not good substitutes for God; if we are to create a vibrant new faith for the twenty-first century," she offers, "we should, perhaps, ponder the history of God for some lessons and warnings."
This is much like the calling of Ann Ulanov, psychologist and theologian, in her book Picturing God: "Images—the language of the psyche—are the coin of life;" she writes, "they touch our emotions as well as our thoughts; they reach down into our bodies as well as toward our ideas. Our God-pictures play a particularly central role in our lives. We remember those pictures; they mark us. We may never understand them, but we never forget them."
The question of believing in God has incited wars, genocide, the building of nations, friendship, estrangement, imprisonment, freedom, torture. The question of believing in god has brought on extraordinary works of art and architecture, daring life choices, horrific tyranny, strength beyond knowing, and cruelty beyond imagining.
Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong reminds us that Sigmund Freud believed that theistic religion, one with an identifying relational god came out of the trauma of self-conscious existence. We suddenly knew we were alive and vulnerable, we found ourselves thinking yet not fully knowing, and finite in an infinite cosmos.
Much of our imaging came out of fear or need for comfort, or an image to represent our awe or inexpressible wonder.
Whatever the reason, our imaging is vast and varied, and one that we need to pay attention to as we grow into world community.
In addition to all of the historical information and written text available in our free and open society, we have high speed internet connections and global information that exposes us to so many possibilities about God that it can be overwhelming. So what or who should we believe?
Can everyone be right? Perhaps everyone can be right in parallel universes. In that scenario, everyone would get to choose the God they wish to worship. While this may be appealing, it probably is not a commonly held notion. A more common thought, across many faiths, is there is only one right answer and one proper path. In this instance logic dictates that billions of people that have already come and gone were wrong and therefore doomed. But, there is another possibility. Perhaps the common beliefs that are found across many religions are correct and are what really matter. Maybe different traditions and ideas have evolved to fit the times and places but surround some common truths. Stated another way, perhaps we all are headed in the same direction but from different starting points using different maps!
This still does not address what I believe God is or whether I believe in God. In fact, it became clear to me as I was writing this that it is far easier to describe what I do not believe. For example, I do not believe that killing in the name of God is a "higher calling." Neither can I accept that an all-powerful and loving being would create an environment of temptation with the threat of eternal damnation.
So now I have at least described what I believe God isn't and this is a step. When reflecting on trying to describe God, it occurred to me that some insight might be found in a conversation with my youngest daughter. A few nights ago she convinced me to go outside and look at the stars with her. Then, after some time she casually asked me how space can end. She astutely pointed out that even if there was a wall at the end of space, there would have to be something on the other side of that wall. I chuckled and told her I had gone through that same thought process many years ago and had long since accepted that comprehending the infinite is something I just can't get my mind around. So maybe it shouldn't be surprising that I can no more readily describe God or even understand the concept of God. So where does this leave me? I have decided that the more important question may be how we should behave.
I have heard many wonderful ideas from many different faiths about God's desires for the human race. I don't necessarily buy into them all, and feel that some may have been developed to meet needs of the time, but there are many common beliefs, like loving our neighbor and helping those in need, that are timeless and even carry across cultures. This is where I find great comfort in being a Unitarian Universalist.
While I feel individuals in this Fellowship come with a wide variety of beliefs, I also feel a strong recurring theme and kindred spirit that is very practical. I don't see people waiting for divine intervention or saying things like, "it is in God's hands." Rather, what I observe is a practical approach to the survival of the human race, which means we must learn to help each other and preserve the earth. I don't know if everyone thinks precisely in these terms, but I certainly feel our goals and objectives are similar. I feel this is at least one place where people can come together instead of spending time drawing lines and arguing about who is on the right side. The best example of this spirit was expressed immediately after 9/11 when the world was in shock. I was so proud to be part of this Fellowship when we bought a full page aid to explain that there was a difference between Muslim extremists that practice terror and those that practice Islam peacefully.
So, perhaps, if humans one day accept that different views of God evolved over time and cultures, but carry common values and aspirations, we might just be able to stop the killing in the name of God and begin working together to take care of each other.
One of the most uttered phrases in the English language is "thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."
But what, exactly, does that mean? Are people asking for an outside source to fix things—to rule things—or are they seeking the inner wisdom in their choices? Does "thy will" on earth mean the end of an existence, or a unity of resolve to live our highest aspirations?
What is will? Do we actually have power of influence, or does that power come from some place else?
A popular criticism attached to the ills of society, generated by religious rhetoric and political jargon is that we humans don't have God on our minds enough.
I find a different cause of many of our ills. The challenge is not that we don't have our idea of God on our mind's enough. The challenge is accepting the fact that we are not always on what might be called God's mind. We need a touch of Copernicus in main stream religious sensibilities. Just as Copernicus brought humanity to understand the sun, our source and energy nurturing biological life, did not revolve around the earth, the creative source and wisdom of all life does not revolve around us.
For when we assume that we are ever present on God's proverbial mind, then we feel abandoned, betrayed when our hard work does not meet our expectations, or when the road is rougher than we think we 'deserve'. "Why did this happen to me? Why did God do this to me?"
We may feel disappointed and angry when we witness others who are not practicing justice or compassion seemingly get all they want. So often the logic of an ever-present protector God falls short of experience. That can be a danger to faith and to our responsibility for the substance of our lives. That can cause people to give up and decide to just get what they need, simply, for themselves, or fall into a depression, or cynicism that takes them out of creating a fulfilling life.
In the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson:
A person will worship something—have no doubt about that. We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the dark recesses of our hearts—but it will out. That which dominates our imagination and our thoughts will determine our lives, and character. Therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshiping we are becoming.
Glenn—So where does God fit in? Beyond our understanding, amidst our wonderings, within our struggling, without our structuring.
Rev. Lisa—Life is never fully known to any of us. Sometimes that is incredibly irritating and exhausting and sometimes that is inspiring and intriguing.
Glenn—And yet the lack of full wisdom is one element that makes life worth living.
Rev. Lisa—The lack of full wisdom is one element that encourages us to love and learn from one another.
Glenn—So whatever you may name, describe or image that which calls you forth to seek beauty, increase your wisdom and nourish your community, may it fit in to the shaping of your life.
Rev. Lisa—May you always feel its presence. Amen.