God, God, God

“God is not a Christian, God is not a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist. All of those are human systems which human beings have created to try to help us walk into the mystery of God. I honor my tradition, I walk through my tradition, but I don’t think my tradition defines God, I think it only points me to God.” -John Shelby Spong, Walking into the Mystery of God

I don’t talk much about God.  I have a lifetime of experience of relating to God. I have read the Bible through. I have read dozens of books over the years on matters pertaining to God which have influenced me and affected my thinking. I have attended several thousand church services and have listened to several thousand sermons all pertaining to some aspect of God. But I don’t pretend to know God.  But the main reason I seldom mention God is that there are approximately 7.6 billion different opinions on who God is, how we relate to God and how God relates to us.  If I start talking to you about God, it’s your God you are thinking about and not mine. Let’s say that you and I are standing side by side at the  edge of the Grand Canyon.  The view is nearly exactly the same for each of us. But each of us will experience the moment in ways that are unique to ourselves. The canyon, like God, is an unfathomable mystery. What the Grand Canyon means to an archaeologist is completely different than what it means to me. I’m enjoying the macrocosm while she is pondering the microcosm. But it’s the same canyon.

Right about now you’re saying, “Then I don’t understand your analogy. On the one hand you seem to be suggesting that we shouldn’t talk about God because there could be some confusion, but it’s okay to talk about the Grand Canyon which is also incomprehensible.” You make an excellent point, but here’s the difference.  Referencing the quote above, “I don’t think my tradition defines God.”  Millions of people define God through the lens of their  own traditions.  Not only do Christians see God as a Christian, but I think Baptists see God as a Baptist.  Pentecostals see God as a Pentecostal.  Lutherans see God as a Lutheran, Disciples of Christ see God as Disciples of Christ, etc.   So if I’m a Lutheran and you are a Baptist, you think I’m talking about your God, but I’m talking about mine.  If we’re talking about the Grand Canyon, we pretty much have the same place in mind.

I spent the summer of 1973 in and around Eatontown,  New Jersey.  I was a summer missionary through the Home Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention.  I turned twenty  that summer and the experience ended up being a pivotal time in my life, in my relationship with God, with others and with myself. My missionary partner that summer was a young lady named Anne. Anne was from Virginia.  I don’t know if all Virginians had her accent, but she had an edge to her voice.  It could grate on you if you let it.  One morning teaching a Bible  School of elementary students at the Monmouth Baptist Church,  she was waxing eloquently about God. But it came out “Geeyahd”.  About the 20^th time she said “Geeyahd” an exasperated 3^rd grader shouted, “God, God, God.  All you ever talk about is God!!” Anne paused a second, looked at her, looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and continued her lesson. In  July Anne had to go home for two weeks after the sudden  and unexpected death of her brother. I was so glad to see her when she got back.  And I didn’t care how she said “God”.

The quote above says that we create our theological systems “to help us walk  into the mystery of God.” I would like it better if it said, “walk into the Mystery” and let it go at that.  Wouldn’t that be something if during the sideline interview with the head coach after the big game he said, “I thank the Mystery for  this win.  We wouldn't have won the game without  It”.

I've had the privilege of seeing the Grand Canyon three times.  The first time, at the south rim, I was there only long enough to take it in for a few minutes.  The next time I was at the south rim again and stayed there for several days. The last time, at the north rim, I was only there for two days. But something broke in our four wheeler and my brother and I were stranded at the rim for over three hours.We had  nothing better to do than to hike along the rim, talk, laugh and take pictures.  But after spending all that time there on both rims, about the most I can do is point at it and say, "There's the Grand Canyon."

I heard a story about a twelve year old boy who was at the Grand  Canyon with his family  As they stood there he spoke into the chasm and to no one in particular, "Something happened here." So maybe when it comes to knowing God,  the best we can do is place the palm of our hand over our own beating heart and say, "Something happened here."