Relating to God

A few days ago, I received my copy (kindly pre-ordered by my wonderful husband) of Brian McLaren’s new book, Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words.  If you haven’t bought a copy, then may I suggest that you go as quickly as you can and remedy that situation?  Even after only a few chapters, I am thoroughly captivated by by the book.

I will reserve my final review for when I have finished the whole book.  This may take some time, however.  It isn’t the kid of book that one can devour like a novel.  It also isn’t the kind of book one can read methodically, as with a factual or philosophical text.  No, this is a book that must be experienced, savored, and fully appreciated.  That is what I am now doing, so have patience and I will eventually be able to give a good assessment.

In the meantime, I wanted to share something meaningful that occurred to me as I was reading the first few chapters.  If you haven’t read anything about the book, I will share at least this much.  (I don’t want to give away too much and spoil its unfolding, lessening your enjoyment.)  Each pair of chapters deal with a particular concept or word which makes up a part of the inner spiritual life.  The first few chapters are all setting the stage for these later specifics.

Anyway, I found the chapter on the names for God to be very meaningful.  What struck me was how many ways there are to understand the character and nature of God, yet how infrequently we draw on these, especially in prayer.  We tend to being our prayers using this selection of words: God, Father, Lord, Jesus, and, occasionally, Spirit.  But we don’t necessarily even add adjectives to those words.  We may indeed be missing out on a fairly simple, and perhaps obvious, way to connect with God.

Broadening our approach may help others connect, too.  For example, it may be difficult for some people to begin their spiritual journey by praying to the Father.  Many people have had difficult or non-existent relationships with their earthly fathers, making it hard to relate to and understand a Heavenly Father.  That leaves fewer options, which is no small thing when there is an appearance of limited choices to start.

Although we might describe the attributes of God, we rarely use those attributes to name God.  But what if we were instead to use those descriptors as titles?  Instead of describing how God has created everything, we might address our prayers to the Creator.  The same goes for other attributes of God–most of the adjectives we use can be altered slightly to become names.

I don’t know how this would work in practice; there is a case to be made that it could be confusing for some new believers.  Somehow, though, I think the benefits ultimately outweigh the risks.  I, for one, have begun to put it into practice in my own prayers, and I have noticed that even such a seemingly simple change has dramatically altered my quiet time with God.

A friend posted this article on Facebook about how Americans view God.  According to the article, there are 4 views of what kind of God He is: Authoritative (punishing), Benevolent (kind and caring), Critical (rewards/punishments are reserved for the next life), and Distant (uninvolved in our world).

At first, I read through it and thought perhaps I knew which view I hold (hint: not Authoritative).  But as I considered it further, I realized that my beliefs don’t neatly fit into any of those.  (This is not surprising; I tend to resist any type of strict categorization.)

The majority of conservative, evangelical Christians that I personally know seem to hold all of those beliefs simultaneously.  The problem is that they may be holding onto the wrong end of each category.  The view of God goes something like this:

1. We are horrible people in need of repentance.

2. If we don’t repent, God will punish us, in the form of end-times destruction or eternal conscious torment in Hell.

3. God really, really loves us.  If we believe the right things, He might save us from plane crashes, natural disasters, and poverty–if it’s in His will.

4. God has His eye on us, making sure that we aren’t being lazy.

4.God is distant–we’re separated from him by a huge chasm.  Unless, of course, we say the magic words and believe exactly the right things about Him, in which case He will come and live in our hearts.

Those all seem like placing limits on God in some way.  It makes it somehow sound like we are no more to God than playthings or pawns to be moved about in a cosmic game.  He is pointing His eternal finger at us, making magic by which His chosen toys survive the tsunami and the ones He’s ready to scrap perish.  He promises to punish us far more severely than we would ever do to our own children.

But what if we stop limiting God?  What if His goodness and His love are far bigger than that?  What if we stopped focusing on ourselves?  This might even have to include no longer fixating on our own sinfulness.  What would the world look like if we loved others the way God loves us?

We need a new identity as Christians.

Some people have tried to indicate that by creating new titles for Christians.  Perhaps it’s use of a preceding adjective, such as “authentic.”   Other times it’s by replacing the word Christian with the more hip term Christ-follower.  The problem is not the label on the package; it’s the expired contents therein.

We need to stop defining ourselves by what we DON’T do and what we’re AGAINST.  We need to stop listing off the possible bad things a person can do, exhorting one another to be more pure, more self-controlled.  It’s been said, “We’re fishers of men, not cleaners of fishbowls.”  I beg to differ.  “Not sinning” isn’t what makes us more like Jesus.

Instead, we need to become known for what we DO, what we are FOR.  We need to be known as people who love deeply, compassionately, and fully.  That is the way we become more like Jesus.  We start genuinely caring for others, regardless of our personal feelings about them or their particular sins.  We need to be the first to rush in to care for the victims, the oppressed, the hungry, the sick, the naked, the poor, the widows, the children.  We need to be the last to leave.  We need to listen to the stories of hurting people and offer comfort without judgment.  And yes, we need to clean the damn fishbowls!