“Therefore I pray God, that He may rid me of God.”
-Meister Eckhart
It’s my unscientific and unverified theory that everyone (including the author of this post) is walking around with a ‘God problem.’1
When I worked as a chaplain for the incarcerated, a mentor told me that everyone has a ‘theological hairball’ in their throats that they have to cough out before they can hear anything new about God.
As we grow from infancy into childhood and beyond, we can hear a loving voice within, but also a condemning one. And it's the condemning one that gets louder and louder along the way. Especially as we hear it in endless narratives of our life - from school to sports to playground rules to dating to vocational and family life. Eventually, we start to believe that voice and inhabit its characteristics. To be God is to condemn and control, it seems. We become more concerned with ‘our destiny,’ ‘our rightness,’ and more ephemeral godly matters.
And so we climb our shaky little ladders to our rickety little towers to ‘play god’ over life. All the while, the condemning voice remains. We can’t stand to hear it, but it feels so good to mete out justice in its name.
This is our ‘God problem.’
The inverse of our problem with God is the problem that God has with us! God’s problem is how to have mercy on those who won’t have it. God’s problem is how to get through to us - people who, in our fear and wounding, aspire to be petty, angry, and fearful gods who feel like we benefit by getting rid of any kind of forgiving or merciful God. In this world, we tell ourselves that we don’t win by forgiving people willy-nilly. We don’t overcome by handing out mercy to just anyone.
So, as the story goes, God makes his final move. God sends Jesus to be as humans were designed: instead of ‘playing God,’ Jesus images God’s unending mercy, forgiveness, love, and enjoyment of humanity and creation.
And we can’t stand it.
We take up the pitchforks and torches against him. But instead of being the kind of gods we image - the gods of defense and retribution - he does all this immutable God can do… In his unending mercy and love, he can do no other than to let us kill him. And he forgives us in his last breath.
Unlike us, Jesus is fully human,
all the way to the end.
And then, God really drives the point home and raises Jesus, the preacher of forgiveness, from the grave, insisting that the proclamation of mercy and forgiveness go on in God’s name.
Checkmate… We’ve been disarmed.
This marks the end of god-against-us
and the beginning of God-for-us.
The God of mercy wins
Wins our hearts back
And shows us who He is
(And has been from the start.)
Thus begins the end of our illusory role as angry, petty, and tired little gods. And the beginning of our true role as God’s beloved creations with renewed hearts, minds, and extremities to love and serve this world in joy.
Christianity is the only religious technology I know of that’s specifically intended to address and rid us of our ‘God problem,’ turning the voice of God from one of condemnation to one of pure love. From a voice that hampers us and enslaves us to one that frees and liberates us.2
Nothing else I’ve tried (and I’ve tried A LOT of other things, trust me) does this. All they do is add to the condemning voice inside. I’ve tried manifesting and New Thought. I’ve tried transcendentalism. I’ve tried mindfulness. I’ve tried straight-up ‘Merican Capitalism. And I’ve left every endeavor with a blistered soul.
God, have mercy.
God, rid me of my god problem.
God, rid God of the me problem.
Amen.
It sounds so sterile to call it ‘religious technology,’ and I know it’s more than that, but the term stuck, so there ya go:)
Bam! This one is a keeper! Love the "theological hairball" reference.
"And I’ve left every endeavor with a blistered soul."
I deeply feel, and experience, that. I followed you before you became a Christian. I was intrigued, thinking it wouldn't last. If it didn't last (I thought) then I'd be justified in my decision to leave back in 1991. I watched (read) you grow and grow. Amazing.