Showing posts with label God-as-parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God-as-parent. Show all posts

Thursday, July 26, 2012

To A Weary God


Are You tired, God?
Are You tired of rocking me,
            rocking me,
                        endlessly rocking me,
as You try to comfort my distress?

Are You weary of walking the floor
while I,
                        too tired to know that I’m tired,
            wriggle and writhe,
                        sputter and scream,
                                    all the while looking up at You and saying
                                                “Why aren’t You doing anything to help me?”

Yet there You are,
            gently holding me in Your safe, strong arms,
                        softly kissing my cheek,
                                    blowing Your warm breath over my face
doing everything a parent could do
            and wishing
that I would only stop sputtering
                                    long enough
                                                to see that everything is okay.

Are You tired, God?
            Are You weary, knowing
                        that even if You help me to sleep
                                    I will only wake up in an hour or two
                                                (or less)
                        and we’ll start this whole
                                    dance
                                                over again?

Oh God                                   I’ll try to sleep through the night.

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Helicopter God

There is a relatively new term making the rounds in parenting circles (and discussions):  helicopter parent.  This describes a mom or dad who hovers around their child, always watching, whether needed or not, and who swoops in to rescue their child at the first sign of trouble.

While this is apparently a growing phenomena, it is also one that's being (rightly, I believe) criticized.  Firstly, if a parent hovers too closely to their child that child is constantly recieving the message that they aren't to be trusted.  This isn't the intent, of course, but it is the result.  "You need me to be watching over you," is the message that the behavior itself is sending.  "You're not safe/strong/smart/something enough to handle the world on your own."  This is not, as you can imagine, the kind of message we want to be giving our children if we want them to grow up as strong, independent adults.

The second problem with this parental approach is like unto the first -- if the parent always swoops in to save the day whenever there's the slightest problem, the child has no opportunity to learn problem solving skills for her or himself.  They'll always be looking for someone else to do things for them, waiting to be saved from every predicament.

This morning one of my children asked me to help him do something.  Actually, to be more accurate, he asked me to "help" him by doing it for him.  I told him that he could do it himself and made sure that he really did understand how.  And then I let him do it.  When he asked me why I didn't help him I told him that I had, and that now he'd not only done it but also knew he could do it himself and didn't need to wait on me to do it in the future.  This doesn't mean that I never "help" him by doing things for him; I just want to make sure that he learns how much he's capable of doing on his own.

It strikes me that a lot of so-called "religious" folks have the idea of a helicopter God.  This "God" they imagine is always hovering around, always watching, and ready to swoop in at a moment's notice.  Of course, this isn't what people actually experience most of the time, but it's what they seem to expect.  Let's unpack that last line a little bit.

When, as the saying goes, bad things happen to good people lots of folks turn their faces skyward and shout, "Why?!?!?!?"  They wonder why God isn't "answering their prayers" -- by which they mean "fixing this problem in the way I want it to be fixed."  Essentially, people are asking their "God" why God isn't helping them, by which they mean  "doing it for them." 

This is what turns a lot of people off from the very idea of "God," that their experience of living suggests that if there is such a thing as a "God" she/he/it is doing a really lousy job.  Why is there so much suffering in the world?  Why aren't my prayers being answered?

But what if God were more like a parent than we'd like to admit?  This, of course, is all metaphor and analogy because whatever God might be God isn't really like anything we can conceive of.  The inconceivable is just that -- inconceivable.  But still, throughout time and across cultures people have imagined the divine as parent . . . and what if that metaphor has some real truth to it?

Well, then, wouldn't a helicopter God be just as bad as a helicopter parent?  Wouldn't God's children be receiving the message that they aren't to be trusted?  And wouldn't they have a hard time learning how to fix their own problems and clean up their own messes? 

In the Gospel of Luke Jesus is remembered as saying, "Which of you [parents], if your child asks for a fish will give a snake instead?  Or if you're asked for an egg, would give a scorpion?  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will God do for you?"

If God "is" a parent, then God is the greatest, most perfect parent possible.  And a helicopter parent is just not an example of perfect parenting.

In Gassho,

RevWik

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

On Love and Suffering

Today is Speak Up For Universalism Day -- a day designed to coincide with the publication of Rob Bell's new book Love Wins:  A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived.  This new book espouses the view that God's love is all embracing, leaving no one out.  It is being greeted as heresy in some circles, and as a daring new teaching in others.  Among Unitarian Universalists, however, this is one of our foundational theological assertions.  The Universalist church has always maintained that "God is love" and that that love knows no bounds.

A colleague of mine posted this on FaceBook:
How can we affirm all-embracing inescapable love as the most powerful force of the universe in the face of catastrophe, with Japanese bodies washing ashore in the thousands and nuclear meltdown threatening? We do not know the answers, but we know they have something to do with our hearts breaking for all the suffering in the world. The truth that "love wins" does not mean there is universal happiness. Suffering is not noble, but it is a fact of life and the recognition of it connects us around the world.

I responded that I had once heard someone say "If God is Love, then God can do only what Love can do." This is still saying quite a lot -- love is a very powerful force -- but it is not all-powerful. An "all-embracing inescapable love" cannot control tectonic plates, but it can comfort and console the suffering of those devestated by an event such as the ongoin tragedy in Japan. And it can move observers to action.

I like the metaphor of God-as-Parent.  A parent cares for her or his children, wants the best for them, longs to see them happy and healthy.  The bottom line, though, is that children have their own (free) will and can make their own choices.  A truly loving parent recognizes that and gives their children the freedom to grow and develop in his or her own way.  She watches them, cares for them, celebrates them and consoles them, but does not even try to control them.

So too, I think, with God.  What kind of God would control every facet of our life and living?  An overly-controlling God, that's what.  And what kind of God would cause bad things to happen, even if they "teach a lesson"?  A cruel and caricious one, that's what.  I simply cannot believe in a God like that; such a "God" doesn't deserve the name.

We Universalists have always asserted that God is love and that this love knows no bounds.  It holds us, but doesn't control us.  It fuels our living, but doesn't force us to suffer for the sake of some inscruitable "plan."

I have summarized my theology with this phrase:  We are one human family, on one fragile planet, in one miraculous universe, bound by love."  This love, which binds us together, is what I call "God."  And it is there in Japan, and in your own heart, too.

In Gassho,

RevWik