One of the biggest beefs modern people have with the Bible is its idea of a personal God. A scientifically-informed, secular sensibility can sometimes tolerate the idea of a supreme being, so long as it is identical with evolution, or life force, or perhaps pure being or pure spirit. But give it a proper name and a personality and those same people will flee from it as far away as they can get. It doesn’t make sense to them that there is some proverbial white bearded guy in the sky who cares about them personally and listens to what they say, occasionally offering special protections, favors, or rewards. Such a God just doesn’t wash with science. As a modern person you have to go out pretty far on a limb where your basic working belief system is concerned in order to believe in such a God.
And yet, many people do. I am always surprised at how compartmentalized most of us are. A conservative Christian who wouldn’t be caught dead reading Darwin nevertheless makes liberal use of the fruits of that science which tells him that Genesis is fairy tale and his God simply isn’t so. The person who has no inclination whatsoever to call Jesus his personal savior nevertheless still cries out to him—and with complete sincerity—during a moment of genuine distress. Naturally, there are still technophobic fundamentalists who’d rather read the Bible than go on-line, and secular humanists who wouldn’t cry out to Jesus if their heads were on fire. But most of us fall somewhere in between. We may not be entirely comfortable with the idea of a personal God, but after all it’s pretty hard to think of God in ways that aren’t personal. Our lives are personal, our hopes and wishes are personal, and our fears are personal, too.
My way of understanding God is that he/she/it is not personal—I’m the personal one. I’m the one who needs to relate, and to be related to. Therefore, how I think of God has everything to do with who I am and what I need, and nothing to do with God. I don’t have any idea who or what God is. I don’t even know if He is a “he,” or even a “who.” And I don’t believe anyone else does either. I only know that I need someone to listen to me. I only know I need to be heard. I only know that when I most truly need to be listened to and heard, that is the very moment when I speak the most honestly and most deeply, because there are things I will say to God that I won’t say to anyone else—not even to myself.
