People Who Think Too Much Annoy Other People

Apparently some people don't think much about the meaning of life, or whether conscience is a social construct designed to provide tribal cohesion for survival, or a divine piece of our gray matter installed (or evolved) by God to help us atune to Truth, God and the American Way. Gosh, that the last part really snuck in -- turns out I've been partially brain washed like all good Americans, but back to the point. Some girls and boys go through childhood and never ponder, at two in the morning, "Do I exist, or am I merely a figment of my imagination?" I was not one those kids lucky enough to pass my childhood in blissful ignorance of the big, serious, pretty much unanswerable questions. Instead, I was the one askng stuff like, "What is a soul?"" from the time I exited the womb. Or very shortly therafter.

I seem to be one those existential, spiritually driven-yet-conflicted people who annoy others who were previously content to picnic next to the soccer field, chatting up the latest exercise equipment, their child's brilliant science project or abysmal homework habits, or a recent morsel of neghborhood gossip, like whether Jimmy and Anne have an open relationship and if anyone else saw Jessy Sue's breasts looking unnaturally perky at the Thomson's barbeque. Okay, I have a problem judging people who don't think about "the important things," and I'm a hypocrit too, because I watch Desperate Housewives. If that didn't lump me in with the best of them, here's a more embarrassing confession, when I look at belly, which, after three pregnancies looks like a cross between an elephant's ear and a map of Arkansas, I sometimes ponder getting some work done. Someday when I can afford it, of course. The difference between me and the people who don't think about "the important things" is illustrated in my very next thought process: "How can I justify a tummy tuck when people are starving in Africa?" I stroke my chin and almost start to hum as I dig fo a decent rationalization, a morally appropriate justification for plastic surgery in the face of world starvation. When I can't think of anything besides the Loreal slogan, "because you're worth it," I fil the whole concept in my mental "draft folder." Sometimes you need space from a project before inspiration hits.

So you see, I'm not better than anyone because I think about deep stuff alot; actually I'm betting someday it'll be classified as a syndrome, called Chronic Spiritual Preoccupation Disorder, or something.

But since I'm wired this way, it makes it harder to write off God. God is everwhere, even in the trees and flowers which seem to boldly proclaim both the colorful and viscious games of evolution and the Divine Song of Creation. God is everywhere, and still God plays hard to get. Really hard to get. The Israelites believed if saw God face to face you would die, almost like getting to close to the sun. I get that; the sun gives light and life, but get to close, and your toast. A few times I've felt God's presence like electricity, like pure, awesome energy, and I can say how straightup God face to face might be overload for these measely human bodies. But like Moses, I long to be close to God, to see God for who God really IS.

Or do I? The Isrealites also believe God wanted them to commit genocide because they were special and God wanted them to have a nice place to call home. And then there's the time the Old Testament pegs God as just itching to do in his OWN people and start over. I mean that's how I often feel about a painting that isn't turning out nicely, but I sure wouldn't take that approach with my kids! Talk about time to call the Department of Social Services.

Many Christians buy the violence and rage ascribed to God as an accurate portrayal of Almighty Yahweh, so holy that he cannot tolerate sin. Yet even before Jesus died for our sins, his most revolutionary quality was the love and acceptance he showed for blatantly imperfect people. And he mentioned that it's nothing special to love the people who preen your ego and reciprocate your kindness; being like God means loving your enemies too. So I wonder how to reconcile the immature and violent behavior attributed to God in the Old Testament with a God who is most holy because he loves even those who don't love him back.

In the gospels, Jesus says, if human beings, sucky as we are, know how to give good gifts to our children, would God give us a stone instead of bread? Or a snake instead of a veggie lasagna? Jesus says we have Creator who cares even for sparrows when they fall. A Christ who suffered and died, rather than exact revenge on his betrayers, who told his friends, "those who live by the sword will die by the sword." Does this fit with a God who wipes out his kids cause they're acting all adolescent on his ass? Or a God who destroys cultures and people groups because they're mistakenly worshipping wooden dolls? God is not without mercy in the Old Testament. Many times God is described as compassionate, patient, long-suffering and faithful. But isn't that the worst, when you think you can trust someone, and then boom, you screw up and now they want to kill you?

Many evangelicals use this three choice argument to tell people about Jesus: He was either Lord, Liar or Lunatic. Here's one for God the Father: Either he's gotten better with time (we can all hope to age like wine, right?) He's a capricious, sometimes loving, sometimes violent being who cycles through the stages of an abusive relationship with his people. Or the Old Testament got God wrong somewhere; there was a breakdown of communication, and we're misinterpreting God. The fourth option is that like me, God hates multiple choice questions and prefers to come up with her own answer, which is currently a secret. Please God, I promise, I won't tell. Of course, I'd probably tell, at least if I knew it wouldn't tick God off enough to send me Beyond before my time.