God. That’s a big subject and a touchy one, too. I’m talking about big “G” God. Gods (little “g”) is (are?) also a big subject but not as touchy. Face it–we don’t know people who worship multiple gods and, if we do, we just sort of laugh them off as nuts. We who believe in such things as people rising from the grave and whatnot are much more rational.
I’ve been thinking about my idea of God. Regardless of your religion or particular domination, you have your own ideas about God. Naturally, you’ll do your best to keep these ideas consistent with your own religious views. Recently, I read something which asked what I thought God would look like when I met Him and what I would say to Him.
I’ll admit that I never gave much thought to either part of that question, expect the second part which I do think about when I watch James Lipton’s Inside the Actor’s Studio. “What will you say to God?” is, of course, one of the questions devised by the great Bernard Pivot. I mention this only to subtly point out that I am an erudite student of such things and you very likely are not.
The God of which I speak is my God. You may know Him by another name such as Yahweh, Jehovah, Elah, Allah or so other moniker. He’s the Creator, the Almighty, the Supreme Being.
So, what does God look like? I’ve read the Bible a couple of times and can’t recall any description of God’s appearance. That’s probably because no one sees him, expect maybe for Moses. Even Moses only saw a burning bush, and I just can’t make shrubbery my God.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I have a pretty juvenile image of God. My God has long white hair and big white beard. He sort of looks like Santa Claus, only he’s not fat. He also wears a long, flowing white robe. It might not even be a robe. Maybe it’s a dress of some kind. Honestly, it kind of looks like a Ku Klux Klan get-up without the hood. I can’t get the idea of the white robe/dress out of my head. That’s just God clothing.
Oh, and he doesn’t wear shoes. Why not? I don’t know.
I also don’t know why my God is so unkempt. I’ve known people with long hair and beards. Most men with big beards are also bald. I don’t know why. Perhaps they just want to grow hair anywhere they can. I can’t fault them for that. I can’t grow a beard. Maybe that’s why I think a beard is Godlike.
He’s white. And male. And American. That all makes sense.
Why does my God need a haircut? I’ve never thought of men with long hair as being particularly pious or even wise. In fact, most atheists I know have long hair. God certainly can’t be an atheist. I just can’t think of God with a crew cut or smart-looking businessman’s coif.
Most puzzling is why I think of Him as really old. I guess that’s because God has been around so long. He’d have to be really old, wouldn’t He? Then again, He would be ageless, wouldn’t He? Maybe I think of Him as wise and, thus, old. That makes no sense. Old people can be wise, but a lot of them aren’t. For example, if you are total dumb-ass at 40, there’s a really good chance that you’ll be an old dumb-ass at 75. Add to that the probability of advancing dementia, and you have a not-so-wise man. My Dad lived to be really old, but was a lot wiser at 50 than at 80. If God is like my Dad was at 80, praying is useless. He’ll just forget what we talked about, and I’ll have to repeat it the next day.
So, here’s a drawing of my God. Feel free to use this yourself:
At this point, I should note that I know there are religions where it is offensive to draw or depict God or any sacred image. If you belong to one of those religions, please take no offense. You may assume that this drawing is not of your God.
So, what would I say to God? More correctly, what will I say to Him? It will depend on the circumstances. Should I die some particularly gruesome death, I’d probably start with “What was that all about?” I imagine God to have a very deep, booming voice, something like James Earl Jones. It would be nice if he sounds like Morgan Freeman. That would be comforting. Naturally, he speaks English.
Anyway–what would I say? I’d probably say something awkward like “Hey, how are you?” He’s God. Of course, He’s doing well. Then, I’d be really embarrassed. He’s probably real good with people and would put me at ease. Once I lightened up, I’d ask him some questions:
- Is it safe to assume I’m clear on the Hell thing?
- Is any of my family around here?
- Faith healers–a bunch of lying bastards, right?
- Why did you quit smiting people? There are so many people who deserve it.
- Did you really see everything I was doing? If so, I’d like to apologize for quite a few things.
- Do you ever get really pissed off at the televangelists?
- Assuming I get to be in Heaven, do I have to be around everyone else in Heaven or can I choose to be around only those people I really liked? Don’t get me wrong–I’ll follow the rules. I’m just curious.
- I took your name in vain quite a few times–I guess you know that. It wasn’t anything personal. It’s not like I really wanted you to condemn someone or thing. I had a bit of a temper, and–let’s face it–I was just as you made me, so I’m not completely at fault. Does that make sense?
- Back when I was alive, I wrote a blog post about what you look like. That didn’t offend you, did it?
I’m sure I’d think of a bunch of other questions. Then again, I’d probably be pretty nervous. Maybe he’d have a bunch of stuff to tell me and kind of carry the conversation.
I fully expect someone to be offended by this and call me names. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to get a religious lecture like I did when I posted about Jesus. Save your breath. My God also has a sense of humor.