Metaphor For God: "Monsters, Inc." Or "Monster"?

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?

We Give Thanks For The Earth

Let us close our eyes so that we might see.
We give thanks for the earth.
We give thanks for rainbows and sunsets.
We give thanks for people who protect the earth.
We are grateful they don’t pollute the air, water and land.
We hold in our thoughts those who don’t protect the earth.
We hold in our thoughts those who do pollute the air, water and land.
May they see the error of their ways.
We hold out hope for the day when the earth is free from pollution.
We hold out hope for the day when everyone protects the earth.
Now and forever more.
Let it be. So be it. And: Amen.

A Better Way For Churches To Contend

Dear Editor,

I’ve noticed all the letters lately berating Rob Bell for his open-minded view of heaven. While I agree with what Pastor Bell writes in his book, “Love Wins,” (yes, Virginia, I have read it), I wish his detractors would find better uses for their time. It would be wonderful if, rather than debate over dogma, Christians would compete over compassion.

“We feed poor people chicken!”

“Chicken? What a laugh! We serve them steaks!”

Or, instead of combating over creeds, it would be delightful if Christians jousted over justice.

“Our church writes a letter to Congress and the president every month, urging them to bring our troops home!”

“Every month? What a bunch of wimps! Our church writes them every week!”

God knows, if churches squabbled over social justice instead of dueling over doctrine, it would be…heaven.

We Are Grateful For Health

Let us close our eyes so that we might see.
We are grateful for health.
We give thanks for healthy people.
We hold in our thoughts those whose health is not good.
We give thanks for nurses, doctors and hospitals trying to help improve people’s health.
We give thanks for scientists and researchers searching for cures for diseases like cancer and AIDS.
We give thanks for improvements made in healthcare coverage, it’s not perfect, but it’s getting better.
We give thanks for countries that have universal healthcare – they’re setting an example for the world.
We pray for those who don’t have healthcare, in America and around the world.
We pray for the families and friends of the 45,000 people who die every year in America for lack of healthcare.
We pray for the day when everyone will have the healthcare they need.
Forever and ever.
Let it be. So be it. And: Amen.

How Old You?

Before there were Tweets, there were telegrams. If you wanted to get a short message to someone quickly, that was pretty much your only option. Just like with Twitter, you tried to use as few characters (back then we called them words) as possible. Legend has it that the late Cary Grant was interviewed by a reporter. The reporter forgot to ask Cary Grant his age. So the reporter sent him a telegram, “How old Cary Grant?” Cary Grant replied, “Old Cary Grant fine. How old you?”

So: How old you? Or rather: How are you? If you’re like Holland, you’re probably pretty good. A year ago, Holland was called the second happiest place in America. Just recently, we were called the healthiest place in Michigan. But what’s true for the whole may not be true for a particular part. Are you happy and healthy? Are your loved ones?

If you answered “no” to either of those questions and you’re feeling depressed or suffering in some other way, I hope you’re seeing a psychologist, psychiatrist or licensed therapist. If you can’t afford them or your insurance doesn’t cover them, there is a free alternative: your clergyperson.

Holland is said to have more than 170 churches. If you attend one (and I assume you do, since this is Holland), your clergyperson, as busy as he or she is, would undoubtedly talk with you.

If you’re really desperate and have nowhere else to turn, you can contact me. But please be advised, I’m a chaplain, not a professional counselor (I don’t even play one on TV). But if you want to talk about the state of your world or the state of our world, I’d be willing to listen. If something in your world doesn’t make sense to you, like why God allows you to suffer; or if something in our world doesn’t make sense to you, like why people who supported regime change in Iraq all of a sudden oppose regime change in Libya, and you want to talk, I’m all ears.

You can email me (I don’t Twitter, although I do twitch sometimes). Or you might see me around town. I’m often walking (some might call it sauntering), usually while practicing my sermon, to make sure I have it memorized for Sunday. So if you see someone strolling the streets of Holland muttering to himself, chances are it’s me. Just come up and introduce yourself. But don’t blame me for ambling and rambling; blame my preaching professor, Jim Green (whose name has been changed to protect the innocent; he shouldn’t be blamed for what I preach, but only for recommending that we memorize our sermons, thus prompting me to plod around town, honing my homily).

You could also talk to me at a local coffee shop, restaurant or ice cream parlor. (I’m not a particularly good example of why Holland is considered healthy.) Perhaps you’ll recognize me from my newspaper picture. Stranger things have happened. The other day I was walking downtown and was stopped by a TV reporter, who wanted a comment about a news story. He introduced himself. I said, “Hi, I’m Bill.” He asked me a question and after I answered it he exclaimed, “You’re Bill Freeman, the pastor!” Guilty.

Hopefully you’ll recognize me someplace too. If you do and you want to talk, I’d be happy to talk to you. It’d be a nice change of pace from talking to myself.

Taking Exception To American Exceptionalism

George Washington was America’s first president, of course. When I was a kid, I heard a story about George Washington and the cherry tree, you probably heard the same thing, that George Washington apparently chopped down a cherry tree and when he was asked about it by his father, or somebody, “George, did you chop down this cherry tree?” he said, “I cannot tell a lie; I did chop down this cherry tree.” Later, when we were older, we learned that that story was itself a lie. It was a legend, a myth, told to little kids so that they’d think that their first president wouldn’t have lied. Maybe the implication was that when the leaders of Russia were kids, they would have lied; the leaders of China, when they were kids, they would have lied, but America’s first president would not have lied. It’s called American exceptionalism - the idea that America is better than every place else.

Ronald Reagan was shot thirty years ago this past week. At the time we were told that, when Reagan went into the operating room, he looked at the doctors and said, “Well, I hope you’re all Republicans.” Now maybe I’m a cynic, but at that time I thought, “Now that’s not true. He didn’t say that. That did not happen. That’s just his media handlers putting that story out.” But I didn’t have any proof of that until this past week. On the thirtieth anniversary of his shooting, they interviewed the doctor who was in charge. Now Reagan was shot in the chest. He was spitting up blood. The doctor in charge of the hospital said that when Reagan entered the emergency room, he collapsed. He was out. By the time they rolled him into the operating room, he would have been so full of drugs he wouldn’t have said, “Well, I hope you’re all Republicans.” I don’t believe that happened. I think that was a myth. Now maybe it was a myth for our benefit so that we’d think that Reagan was well and alert and his avuncular self. Maybe it was for the Russians or the Chinese saying, “Hey, don’t mess with us.” I mean, Reagan gets shot in the chest and he’s still joking. It’s called American exceptionalism – the idea that America is better than every place else.

Jason Bourne is a fictional character created by Robert Ludlum in his Bourne books, which were made into movies. Matt Damon starred as Jason Bourne. I’ve seen a couple of them. Very entertaining movies. Jason Bourne, probably the American equivalent of James Bond. Jason Bourne – James Bond. If you’re not familiar with the story, Jason Bourne is part of some secret agency in the U.S. government, not the CIA, some even more secret agency, and he’s sent out, as are others in the agency, to assassinate people. Well, he goes out to assassinate a world leader and as he’s about to shoot him, he notices the guy’s child there. He kind of wigs out. It turns out that Jason Bourne has been brainwashed. All of the people who’ve been sent out as assassins have been brainwashed. I got to thinking about this later. Now wait a minute. The implication, of course, is that when a Russian kid comes out of the womb they’re ready to kill and assassinate people. When a Chinese kid comes out of the womb they’re ready to kill and assassinate people. But American children, when they come out of the womb, they’re are all loving and peaceful. They have to be brainwashed in order to assassinate somebody. Just like I’m sure the people who tortured prisoners down in Guantanamo Bay had to be brainwashed in order to do water boarding. It’s called American exceptionalism – the idea that America is better than any place else.

England is a country I’ve traveled to a few times. The first time I went to England, many years ago, I saw the currency in England, which, as you know, is different colors for different denominations and it’s got a picture of the queen on there. I thought: this looks like Monopoly money. Real money is green, of course, and it has pictures of the president or statesmen on it. It’s American money. Of course, I was engaging in American exceptionalism – our money is better than any place else. But when you think about it, having different colors for different denominations is probably a good idea so you don’t confuse a ten and a twenty. Maybe America could learn something from another country. People who suffer from American exceptionalism tend not to see that. They can’t see that maybe another country has a better idea than we do, because, when you suffer from American exceptionalism, you have blinders on. You can’t see reality sometimes.

9-11, the worst terrorist attack in American history, on American soil. It was horrendous, of course, it was barbaric, it was brutal, it was a demonstration of man’s inhumanity toward man. We all can see that. We all know that. One of America’s responses to 9-11 was the invasion of Iraq. We were told that there were weapons of mass destruction. We know that’s not true. We look at that now and we see the invasion of Iraq, which killed tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of innocent Iraqis, was barbaric, was a demonstration of man’s inhumanity toward man. But people who suffer from American exceptionalism can’t see that. They have blinders on. If America did it, it can’t be wrong. The problem with American exceptionalism is we sometimes can’t see reality.

Michael Moore had a TV show on several years ago called TV nation. It was a wonderful program. I remember one episode, he wondered, if you had a broken ankle, where would you get better health care: in America, in Canada, or in Cuba? Turns out, if you had a broken ankle, the best health care you’d get was in Cuba. The second best place was Canada. America came in third, according to Michael Moore. Now you might say, “Come on Bill, this is Michael Moore; he hates America.” [Laughter] Okay. I looked it up. Where does America rank in terms of health care with all 190 countries in the world? America isn’t first; it’s not second; and it’s not third. America comes in 37th place. Now people who suffer from American exceptionalism probably can’t accept that. They’d say, “We have the best health care,” and I would say we do, but you have to finish that sentence. “We have the best health care…money can buy.” People who suffer from American exceptionalism can’t always accept that. American exceptionalism causes us to sometimes not be able to see clearly.

In elementary school, we weren’t taught American exceptionalism. It was just in the air. We just picked up the fact that, of course, America was the best place in the world. We weren’t told that, but it was implied in everything. In Sunday School, I wasn’t told that my religion was the best religion in the world, but it was in the air. It was just assumed or presumed. I wasn’t taught about Buddha or Gandhi or Lao Tzu. I only heard about Jesus. American exceptionalism and religious exceptionalism oftentimes go hand in hand.

Head of State was a movie several years ago starring Chris Rock. I think I and about three other people saw it, so if you didn’t see it, that’s OK. But I thought it was a wonderful movie. Chris Rock plays a Washington, D.C. councilman, who through one fluke and another runs for president as a Democrat. He’s the Democratic nominee. The Republican nominee for president is the sitting vice president and whenever the Republican nominee gives a speech, he says at the end of it, “God bless America – and no place else!” and I thought, “That’s what a lot of presidents mean when they say that.” God bless America – and no place else! Then Chris Rock comes along and says, “Why not God bless America and everyplace else! Why not God bless America and God bless South Africa and God bless Canada and God bless Mexico?” American exceptionalism and religious exceptionalism often go hand in hand.

“This is My Song.” When I first heard that song at Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids, it was like scales fell from my eyes. I think it’s the Finnish national anthem or something. It says, “This is my song, O God of all the nations, a song of peace for lands afar and mine.” It talks about people here having hopes and dreams, but also about people elsewhere having hopes and dreams. What? This is my song, O God of all the nations? You mean God isn’t just the God of America? You mean people in other countries have hopes and dreams? (I mean, besides the dream of becoming the 51st state?) How can this be? American exceptionalism and religious exceptionalism often go hand in hand.

A pastor friend and I had lunch the other day and he was decrying all these buildings that you see with rich people’s names on them. He said, “Don’t these people realize that 100 years from now or 1000 years from now those buildings will all be dust. Their names will all be in the dust.” He said that all of us, each one of us is written in the Book of Life. I said, “Yes, and they’re all written in the same font size.” He said, “That’ll preach, Bill!” [Laughter] We are all equal. I take exception to religious exceptionalism because we are all equal.

Charles Grodin had a talk show on MSNBC a few years ago. It was very interesting. One night he had a psychic on, who claimed to be able to contact people on the other side, people who are in heaven. He took phone calls from people who wanted to contact their dead relatives. He had a caller on the line who wanted to contact his dad. So the psychic said, “I’m connecting with your dad and he says he loves you; there’s nothing that divides you; one day he’s looking forward to when you’re both in heaven together.” The caller said, “Well, that’s fine, but is there anything special about my dad? Do you notice anything different?” The psychic said, “No, he just wants you to know he loves you; there’s nothing that divides you, and one day you’ll be together in heaven.” But the caller was persistent. He said, “Are you sure there’s nothing different about my dad? There’s nothing special in any way?” The psychic said, “No, he just wants you to know he loves you; there’s nothing that divides you, and one day you’ll both be together in heaven.” Well then it was revealed that on the line was Patrick Wayne, John Wayne’s son. So the psychic was demonstrated to be a fraud. Obviously if he had contacted John Wayne, he’d know that it was John Wayne because he was…John Wayne! Charles Grodin knew the guy was a hoax, Patrick Wayne knew the guy was a hoax, the audience knew the guy was a hoax, I knew the guy was a hoax. But later I got to thinking, wait a minute. Maybe in heaven John Wayne isn’t somebody special. Maybe he’s just like everybody else. Maybe in heaven John Wayne doesn’t have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Maybe in heaven John Wayne doesn’t have an airport named after him. Maybe he’s just John Wayne in heaven, no better and no worse than anyone else. I take exception to religious exceptionalism because I think we’re all equal.

In the Christian New Testament there’s a verse that deals with both these issues, American exceptionalism and religious exceptionalism. The verse says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one.” There’s no longer Jew or Greek, there’s no longer Christian and Jew and Buddhist and Hindu and Muslim or anyone else. We’re all one. I take exception to religious exceptionalism because we’re all one. We’re all equal. We’re all the same. And that’s okay. There is no longer Jew or Greek. There’s no longer American and Mexican and Russian and Chinese and Iranian. I take exception to American exceptionalism because we’re all one. We’re all equal. We’re all the same. And that’s okay, too.

We Give Thanks For Peace

Let us close our eyes so that we might see.
We give thanks for peace.
We give thanks for the peace that passes understanding.
We give thanks for inner peace.
We pray that people who may not have inner peace will achieve that.
We give thanks for peace within America, though we are not unmindful that America is involved in at least 3 wars.
We pray for all the people in Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya.
We pray for people in other lands where there is war.
May peace prevail on earth one day.
Forever and ever.
Let it be. So be it. And: Amen.