Christian ministers got together – this isn’t the beginning of a joke, I was there [Crowd laughs] – Christian ministers got together and one says, “We have something in common.” Another one says, “We preach what we don’t believe.” Yikes! What? I don’t preach what I don’t believe. But I understood what he meant. I remember the senior minister of Fountain Street Church once saying that he had talked to ministers in downtown Grand Rapids, Christian ministers; he was a Unitarian. They told him basically, “We preach what we don’t believe.” They preach about a virgin birth, but they don’t believe that. They preach about a man walking on water and turning water into wine, but they don’t really believe that. They preach about Christianity being the only way to heaven, but they don’t really believe that. They preach about a physical resurrection of Jesus, but they don’t really believe that. I don’t preach what I don’t believe. I couldn’t do that. Now, there are times when one Sunday I believe something and the next Sunday I believe something else. That happens! [Crowd laughs] But I could never preach what I don’t believe. You don’t call that preaching, you call that lying. That’s why I don’t call myself just a Christian minister, I call myself an interfaith chaplain because I don’t consider myself, in a narrow sense, just a Christian minister. I’m independent, non-denominational. I have an affinity for all faiths, but I’m not affiliated with any faith tradition.
Terry Jones is a so-called Christian minister down in Florida. You’ve undoubtedly heard of this man. About a month ago, he put Islam on trial. Surprise, surprise, Islam was found guilty. As Fred Wooden, my friend, colleague and co-host of our radio show said on Friday, “Islam was found guilty of not accepting Jesus as their Lord and Savior.” As a result, Terry Jones’ church burned a Qur’an. What God must Terry Jones believe in? What metaphor for God must Terry Jones have? A narrow-minded, mean-spirited, hateful God; a God, I think, made in Terry Jones’ own image.
Muslims, as a result of the burning of the Qur’an, killed twenty innocent people in Afghanistan. Those Muslims, a small number of Muslims, didn’t do themselves, or Islam, any favor. They fed into the stereotype that many Christians have of Islam. What image, what idea, what metaphor must they have for God? I think similar to the one that Terry Jones has: a narrow-minded, mean-spirited, hateful God that I think they created in their own image.
A rabbi said – now this isn’t a joke either, I heard him say this [Crowd laughs] – a rabbi said that he likes the name the Jewish people use for God, that they don’t say, many of them, because they revere the name so much. He said he likes it because it sounds like you’re inhaling and exhaling: [inhaling and exhaling] YAH…WEH, YAH…WEH, YAH…WEH. I like that because it gives us an image of God that is as close as our breath.
People have many names for God: God and Yahweh and Allah, which is not a different god, but just the Arab word for God, I think we all know that. The same thing as Dios, which is the Spanish word for God, but not a different god. I think there are as many names for God as there are metaphors for God.
People have many metaphors for God. Jesus had a couple of them. Jesus saw God as Father, our heavenly Father, and Spirit. In the Christian New Testament, 1 John 4:16, “God is love.” In the Hebrew Scriptures there are many names and images and metaphors for God, including “rock,” which is where the hymn “Rock of Ages” comes from. Gandhi’s metaphor for God was Truth. Buddhists don’t believe in a god, but they do believe in nirvana. Theologian Paul Tillich had a couple of metaphors for God. God was our “ultimate concern” and God was “the ground of being.” God wasn’t a being, but God was “the ground of being.” There are many metaphors for God.
“Monsters, Inc.” was a delightful movie, one of the Pixar animated movies. Mike and Sulley were the stars of “Monsters, Inc.” Mike was voiced by Billy Crystal; Sulley was voiced by John Goodman. Their job, working for Monsters, Inc., was to go into little kids’ bedrooms in the middle of the night and scare them. When the kids would scream or be fearful, that would create energy and they would capture that energy to fuel Monsters, Inc. and the city they lived in. I think many people have a metaphor for God that is like Mike and Sulley in “Monsters, Inc.” They see God, not as a supreme being, but as a supreme bully, somebody to be feared, somebody they’re afraid of.
In the second half of “Monsters, Inc.” Mike and Sulley realize that if they make kids laugh, that creates even more energy. Much more energy than making them afraid. I think that’s another metaphor for God that some people have – not a supreme being, not a supreme bully, but a supreme buddy, that loves us and wants us to enjoy life.
“Monster” was a scary movie. I don’t know if you saw that, it was a movie starring Charlize Theron. She won an Academy Award for that. They made her look ugly, which I think takes some doing, Charlize Theron is a very beautiful woman. In the movie she was abused by men her whole life long, as a kid and as an adult. Then at some point in the movie, she snaps and begins killing men relentlessly, cold-heartedly. I think some people have that as a metaphor for God. Not God as a supreme being, not God as a supreme bully, not God as a supreme buddy, but God as a supreme hit man, who kills people relentlessly, cold-heartedly.
A televangelist a few years ago said that a hurricane hit Florida because DisneyWorld had a gay day and allows people who are gay to work there. What image must this televangelist have for God? A God that is a monster; a supreme hit man, who kills people relentlessly, cold-heartedly. I always find it interesting that God hates the same people that the televangelist hates.
[Bill singing] “He’s got the whole world in his hands. [Congregation joins in) He’s got the whole wide world in his hands. He’s got the whole world in his hands. He’s got the whole world in his hands.” Now that’s the metaphor for God I learned as a kid in Sunday School class. God as a warm pair of hands that holds us in his palms. I think some people hold onto that image, that metaphor for God, all their lives. It works for them. It no longer works for me, really, but for those it works for, more power to ‘em.
About a month ago, I wrote a religious column that appeared in both the Holland Sentinel and the Grand Rapids Press. When I was writing that column, it was like I wasn’t really writing it. It was as if I was just a conduit for the universe. I was a conduit for, dare I say it, God. I was a middleman for God. Just taking dictation, in a way. I know it sounds weird, but that’s what it felt like. It’s at times like that that I feel a oneness with the universe, a oneness with God. It’s at times like that that I believe in God. I don’t always believe in God. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. When a tsunami hits Japan and kills thousands of people, I lose faith in God. When people respond to that and go and help, or, as this congregation did, send money to help, then my faith in God is restored. You might say, “Wait a minute, Bill, you didn’t lose faith in God, you lost faith in some kind of magical father figure. And you didn’t regain faith in God, you regained faith in humankind.” That may be true. But I’ve struggled most of my life trying to come up with a theology, a metaphor for God.
We all, I think, have to have a metaphor for God. A theology. We are all our own theologians. Now your theology for God might be, “I don’t believe in God.” I think that’s fine. I will defend to the death your right to have that theology, even in Holland. But I do have a theology for God, at least sometimes. Actually, I have two theologies for God [Crowd laughs] because, you know, I’m a liberal guy and sometimes one theology works and sometimes another theology works. I have a long version and a short version. The long version of my theology goes like this:
I believe in God, not as a white-bearded man sitting on a cloud or a wizard standing behind a curtain, but as a spirit of love, who did not create us to hate us, but to love us; who certainly wasn’t surprised when we weren’t perfect and most definitely didn’t require a blood sacrifice to atone for our sins, when, God knows, we couldn’t help but sin or make mistakes or miss the mark along the way, because we’re human beings. If God had wanted us to be perfect, God would have made us angels, not humans. I see God in nature and as an energy force (God=E=mc2), who does not have an ego that needs to be stroked every Sunday; who did not make us to worship God, but who made us so that we’d seek understanding and wisdom and have some fun along the way. God also made us to bless us and we are blessed, whenever we love and forgive one another, seek justice for more than just us and learn from our mistakes.
That’s the long version. The short version of my theology or metaphor for God was inspired by Kurt Vonnegut. Kurt Vonnegut died a few years ago. A few years before that he said, “If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph: THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD WAS MUSIC.” The short version of my theology goes like this:
I believe in God whenever I feel a loving touch, hear birds singing, smell a rose, taste chocolate, see the smile of a child.
That’s my theology, my metaphor for God. What’s yours? What’s your theology? What’s your metaphor for God?
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