D.R.: Easter’s wild hare
I love the mysteries of life and existence. The mystery equalizes we humans. Our brightest are only incrementally smarter than the dummies on this scale. We share eternal ignorance together.
Rich, poor; genius, retard; First World, Third World. We all have this in common: We simply do not know.
Sure, some pretend. The Rev. Pat Robertson pretends to have God’s ear. Or maybe he believes it’s really true. If so, how depressing. That’s all God has to talk about? Please.
Likewise with the zealots of each faith. It’s hard to believe that they believe that all this is so, so small, and so, so petty.
Today is Easter, the most fantastic of the Christian stories. The Easter bunny and colored eggs, which predate Christianity, show how faiths build upon each other. Even resurrection shows up in legends predating Christianity. The Christian story is not so much original as taking from the faiths before it, just as assuredly the next major faiths will take from Christianity, and Islam, and Hinduism, Budhism and Judaism (just as Christianity and Islam did).
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It’s all part of the world growing up, although sometimes it looks like a race between maturity and destruction. Now there’s a classic definition for adolescence.
Speaking of growing up and humanity’s move from God the mother to God the father and humans created in His image: If we are like God, and He is the father, wouldn’t the characteristics of a father’s love of the child follow pretty much along the same path?
So, how I feel about my children should follow at least roughly with how God the Father feels about me. That doesn’t seem to fit the sermons or the Bible as I’ve read it. God the Father in the Old Testament, I hate to say, but he seems pretty juvenile, rather like the little boy who pulls wings off bugs. He seems to grow up through the text, though he demands a rather weird sacrifice of Jesus.
Our faith, particularly our fundamentalist impulse of it, doesn’t square at all with how I view my children. Sure, I want, I even demand, them to live up to certain standards. But I don’t have a pit out back where I’d throw them to live in horror and pain for the rest of their days for failing to mind me, though. And I wouldn’t favor them with riches for doing as I ask.
I just have my love for them, however life goes. I don’t love them less for disobedience, or more for following my instructions precisely. It’s much more complicated than that.
They are their own people, as they should be. They must live and learn from their own living. I will help them as I can, through support, leading discussion, asking questions, listening, praying for them. We all pray for our kids, even if we don’t recognize it as such.
We don’t disown them, abandon them, refuse them ” unless there is something really wrong with us.
So my unholy view of God the Father includes none of the crap about righteousness, judgment, punishment, banishment, vengeance, jealousy, human rules, Scripture’s rules ” any of it.
I have more faith in Him than that, to put it simply.
Fathers teach. They test only as part of teaching, to see what the children have learned. Life, then, is about learning in the end.
That’s my core belief. We’re here to learn. And there’s about an eternity’s worth of lessons for us, between string theory and how the hare hops into today’s Easter celebration. There’s a lot of mystery out there.