I'm reading the not-very-good but really sort of compelling book Fight Club. (I know. Most of what I learn seems to come from books, both negative and positive lessons. This even though I'm around people almost all the time. Could this mean something?) And so on page 140 someone says to the main character, who at this point has some fundamental misunderstandings about who he is, "What you have to understand, is your father was your model for God."
Now of course I've heard this before but this time it's caught me off guard. My dad was remote, angry and disapproving, uncomprehending and disappointed, unpredictable and almost only present when he was either furious and abusive or fatuous and drunk. There was absolutely no pleasing the guy. That's my God. I have been puzzled at my inability to close my eyes, back when I really tried to do this sort of thing, and imagine myself in the arms of God. That's not my God; It wasn't a huggy God. It did It's best to be nurturing, or sometimes It did, but the basic work of being all-knowing and all-powerful left It frazzled and irritable.
There's more to the future of my theology, I guess, sort of. I could find spare parts and build another God, maybe a really good one. But I don't think It would be all that compelling to me. Nope, my God was really big and angry and disapproving and It worked out great for me for a long time. I could build another one but it would be sort of like an Amazonian rainforest dweller going to elaborate lengths to build a can opener.
So I quit.
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