One, I was standing at the kitchen sink recently when my husband said, "You think God is like Santa Claus." I can't remember any thing else around that statement ... it wasn't said within the context of anything, it was as though I came in during the middle of a conversation. Sometimes he says stuff that doesn't make sense to me ... stuff that seems random, maybe I didn't start listening at the beginning ... idk. I responded by saying, "No, I do not think God is anything like Santa Claus ... you already know that I don't." That was the entire conversation. As I participated in it ... what he was thinking before, during, or after ... I don't know. For me, it was random. I don't think God is like Santa Claus ... or a benevolent grandfatherly grey haired old dude ... or any of that (I don't even think Santa Claus is like that). I don't understand much of anything about God ... and what I think I do know, I'm not always so sure about anyway. God is quite mysterious.
John 14:8-11
8 Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”9 Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10 Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. 11 Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves.
Scriptures like these seem to me to be the pathway towards ... ummm, seeing God. There are bunches of things that I don't understand or even hope to understand. And when I say "scriptures like these ..." I'm not trying to neglect the scriptures which show God in the Old Testament ... I understand that God is pretty fierce ... and tender ... and ... beyond my capacity. Not trying to make an excuse ... it's that I am comfortable with the notion that my eyes aren't big enough to see God. I have to look at the places where I can see he has been to get a "feel" for Him. Jesus said ... It is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work.
Two, Someone asked, "What would he think if he found out that God doesn't exist?" Wow! What a great question I thought. So ... I'm busy thinking about that. The question seems to ask me about my expectations. The choices I make are in reference to that relationship. A lot of my reality hinges on I AM. My perceptions of God have influenced my choices (not always towards "good"). I wonder how might I choose differently, outside the perimeters of this relationship. I know I have distortions about God ... . Of course, for me, not believing in a creator is simply not possible, but, it is interesting to examine choices without the guidelines of Christianity or religion, or religious beliefs. Well ... it's a big question and one I am enjoying looking at. Who do I believe GOD is. How do I reference that in my daily doings ... how do my actions find connection to my beliefs. My dad always said a person will tell you who they are if you let them. I wonder what my life tells of this core belief.
The someone who asked that question appears to be atheist. I think God is up to any question any one of us may pose.
Three, Lately, I've been examining the metaphor of Christ is to "the church" as a husband may be to a wife (and that would go both ways right? The church behaves towards Christ as a wife may relate to her husband). I don't want to write about those conclusions here. I mention it within the context of Father God and Fathers today on Father's Day. Some people assert that our dad's imprint our expectations of who God is. That whole deal. And ... I know my own dad would feel the weight of how short he came to even beginning to set a model of that relationship. My dad was more in the we're all in this mess together kind of boat. Father's Day.
My own dad never presented himself as other then flawed ... and I'm not sure that he would have even said that he was doing his best as he helped raise us. If I learned about the nature of God ... subconsciously ... from time spent with my dad ... hmmm. I've been thinking about that especially these past few weeks. And, maybe I did overlay some qualities that seem like bedrock to me. My dad loved us. He never loved us less, his love for us always grew. Sometimes he was proud of us ... not always. Sometimes he was really really glad to spend his time with us ... ummm, not always. Sometimes he was appalled at our choices ... not always. Always, he loved us ... always.
And ... my dad rocked empathy. As an adult and a parent, I think that may be the most remarkable of his character traits. He was really good at seeing an issue from multiple vantage points. He was interested in seeing things as the person he was talking to might see them. He had time for that. I think God has time for that also. I think He did make a way for that through Jesus spending time in a human shell ... God made his eyes as small as my own ... in a way. God walked our path ... He gets us. He gets us and He still loves us. Like my dad.
Just a little note here ... When I was tiny, taking my little frettings to my dad ... here, like this: Tommy took my birthday ring out of my jewelry box and buried it while we were playing pirates ... an now that big dummy can't remember where he buried it ... and now my ring is lost forever ... . Yeah, that really happened. I sat on my dad's lap with little muddy tears sliding down my cheeks and my dad hugged me and said, "I remember when I was a little girl ... ." Yeah, he always said that. And when I was a little girl I really thought it was possible that my dad was once a little girl. He really seemed to know exactly how that felt! As I grew up it became a smile between us. He "remembered" stuff from my perspective. It made him very easy to talk to about everything ... both, treasures lost and treasures found. I really hope that God is a sweetheart like that. I think he is.
The someone who asked that question appears to be atheist. I think God is up to any question any one of us may pose.
Three, Lately, I've been examining the metaphor of Christ is to "the church" as a husband may be to a wife (and that would go both ways right? The church behaves towards Christ as a wife may relate to her husband). I don't want to write about those conclusions here. I mention it within the context of Father God and Fathers today on Father's Day. Some people assert that our dad's imprint our expectations of who God is. That whole deal. And ... I know my own dad would feel the weight of how short he came to even beginning to set a model of that relationship. My dad was more in the we're all in this mess together kind of boat. Father's Day.
My own dad never presented himself as other then flawed ... and I'm not sure that he would have even said that he was doing his best as he helped raise us. If I learned about the nature of God ... subconsciously ... from time spent with my dad ... hmmm. I've been thinking about that especially these past few weeks. And, maybe I did overlay some qualities that seem like bedrock to me. My dad loved us. He never loved us less, his love for us always grew. Sometimes he was proud of us ... not always. Sometimes he was really really glad to spend his time with us ... ummm, not always. Sometimes he was appalled at our choices ... not always. Always, he loved us ... always.
And ... my dad rocked empathy. As an adult and a parent, I think that may be the most remarkable of his character traits. He was really good at seeing an issue from multiple vantage points. He was interested in seeing things as the person he was talking to might see them. He had time for that. I think God has time for that also. I think He did make a way for that through Jesus spending time in a human shell ... God made his eyes as small as my own ... in a way. God walked our path ... He gets us. He gets us and He still loves us. Like my dad.
Just a little note here ... When I was tiny, taking my little frettings to my dad ... here, like this: Tommy took my birthday ring out of my jewelry box and buried it while we were playing pirates ... an now that big dummy can't remember where he buried it ... and now my ring is lost forever ... . Yeah, that really happened. I sat on my dad's lap with little muddy tears sliding down my cheeks and my dad hugged me and said, "I remember when I was a little girl ... ." Yeah, he always said that. And when I was a little girl I really thought it was possible that my dad was once a little girl. He really seemed to know exactly how that felt! As I grew up it became a smile between us. He "remembered" stuff from my perspective. It made him very easy to talk to about everything ... both, treasures lost and treasures found. I really hope that God is a sweetheart like that. I think he is.
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