Dear God: Letters from a Heretic
Sermon given at Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
April 3, 2016
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
“Dear God,
I do not have an easy relationship to you, God. I am confused by your press. I have read so much about you, from so many quarrelsome experts, that I do not know who you are- if you are. And yet, I suppose you are- Something made all this- and so I thought I would try to make contact....” So writes Julia Cameron in her book, Prayers from a Nonbeliever: A Story of Faith. Cameron’s words may resonate with a good many people, including many of you here this morning. Certainly her words, or the questions and struggles they point to, have been part of my own spiritual development.
Taking a cue from Cameron’s style, this morning’s sermon deviates from my usual form in favor of three letters to God which are drawn from thoughts and reflections from my own spiritual journey as well as the journeys of other people I have talked with or read about concerning God. My intent is to share with you some thoughts and insights I have arrived at in my spiritual exploration and inspire and invite you to consider your own.
I’ve labeled these letters from a heretic because the root of the word heretic means “to choose.” These letters represent a conscious choice to explore the question, “What is God?” rather than accept an orthodox, predetermined answer. So here goes...
Dear God,
I came across an interesting quote some time ago by D.H. Lawrence. He said, “A person [man] has no religion who has not slowly and painfully gathered one together, adding to it, shaping it; and one's religion is never complete and final, it seems, but must always be undergoing modification.” That’s kind of how its been with you and me too, don’t you think? I mean, it’s been forty-six years now, some of it slow and painful, of building this relationship. You’re not the same God I knew as a kid and hopefully, I’m not the same either.
Remember when I thought you were like a super-parent? Watching over me, protecting me, giving me or helping me achieve things I asked for in prayer and sometimes not. That was cool when it worked and I made honor roll or got a new bike. But then Smokey, my cat, disappeared and right before Confirmation! That was low. And don’t get me started on grief...the profound suffering I endured concerning my sexual orientation. That really was the last straw. Remember how I begged and bargained with you for years on that and all I ever heard back was ______________. That’s right, nothing! You went from super-parent to absentee parent with that one. That memory still hurts, you know. It took awhile for me to forgive you. But I did. What choice did I have when I came to realize you didn’t really leave, you just changed? No more super parent, absentee parent or parent at all. And I changed too. That was about the time when I stopped including Jesus in our conversations, at least in the same way as I used to. It was a strange time, I struggled to understand. You seemed to be everywhere but if I had to describe you to a sketch artist, I couldn’t. It was kind of like St. Augustine said, “If you can understand it, it isn’t God.”
I don’t struggle as much anymore, not since those years studying with a Buddhist spiritual director. He’s the one that taught me the words we use to describe you, even the word God, are merely a finger pointing at the moon. “How then can we argue?” asked Meister Eckhart. Seems all too easy when people mistake their finger for the moon, as they often do. Anyway, even after all these years, I can’t say I understand you. But what I’m sure of is that God is not your name, it is a concept, a concept that exists whether or not I or others believe you are real. Let me know what you think.
Sincerely,
Craig
Dear God,
Got your reply. That was fast. Thanks. Though I have to say it was a lot easier to determine your responses when we had that parent/child like relationship. I express worry, fear, sadness and feel better or not...I ask for something and get it or not. Your responses always seem to be yes or no. Simple. That made you much more believable to me. I had always been told it was important to believe in you but I’ve come to question that instruction. For one thing, we humans are told to believe in a lot of questionable things, many of which turn out to be hoaxes...a certain jolly old soul from up north, for instance, or that tax cuts for the rich creates jobs.
A famous teaching attributed to the Buddha instructs as follows...
"Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.
Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders.
Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it."
This has really helped me realize that I don’t believe in you as a concrete form as much as I experience you in varied manifestations.
When I’m anxious I’m soothed by you in the contemplation of the night sky. When I’m happy I feel you in the impulse to share my joy with others. When I fail I know you as an opportunity to learn. When people gather together to celebrate or grief I experience you in the space between them, bonding them in community, in love.
You are there when I gaze at the sparkling reflection of the sun on the pond I live on each morning and the soil that births the peonies I love and the blue in the hydrangeas I wait for each year. I felt your tears as raindrops when I visited Auschwitz and witness your pain at our folly in catastrophic weather related to climate change, stock market collapses and senseless violence.
I think this is why your seem everywhere to me now and yet I can’t capture your image. Always, I hear you, taste you, smell you, see you, feel you. I don’t believe; I experience... Immanent and transcendent, I experience you. We are like a wave to your sea. Distinct yet one...lives arising from and descending back into one source... connected, inseparable.
Of course I realize other people may experience you in other, equally valid ways. And some wouldn’t call any of it God at all. God after all, isn’t your name. I’ll leave it at that for now.
Sincerely,
Craig
Dear God,
It has been fun to talk with you like this and quite a change since I more typically listen than speak. I suppose its good to break up our usual routine of contemplation and reflection every now and then. I don’t really have much else to say for now. Except maybe thank you.
It hasn’t always been easy, but if I were to name one thing that I treasure most about our relationship, it is that whether someone could prove or disprove the reality of your existence to me, it would not matter.
You see, my concept of you has given me an experience of connection to something larger than myself. An experience that has deepened my empathy and compassion for creatures great and small, human and animal and revealed my interconnectedness to this planet and all of life. An experience that has called me to a life in service of love and a commitment to inspiring and empowering others to recognize and embrace their wholeness. So, thank you. Its been real, even if you’re not.
Sincerely,
Craig
What would you say in a letter to God? Try it. You may be surprised by what you have to say.
Amen and Blessed Be
Sermon given at Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
April 3, 2016
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
“Dear God,
I do not have an easy relationship to you, God. I am confused by your press. I have read so much about you, from so many quarrelsome experts, that I do not know who you are- if you are. And yet, I suppose you are- Something made all this- and so I thought I would try to make contact....” So writes Julia Cameron in her book, Prayers from a Nonbeliever: A Story of Faith. Cameron’s words may resonate with a good many people, including many of you here this morning. Certainly her words, or the questions and struggles they point to, have been part of my own spiritual development.
Taking a cue from Cameron’s style, this morning’s sermon deviates from my usual form in favor of three letters to God which are drawn from thoughts and reflections from my own spiritual journey as well as the journeys of other people I have talked with or read about concerning God. My intent is to share with you some thoughts and insights I have arrived at in my spiritual exploration and inspire and invite you to consider your own.
I’ve labeled these letters from a heretic because the root of the word heretic means “to choose.” These letters represent a conscious choice to explore the question, “What is God?” rather than accept an orthodox, predetermined answer. So here goes...
Dear God,
I came across an interesting quote some time ago by D.H. Lawrence. He said, “A person [man] has no religion who has not slowly and painfully gathered one together, adding to it, shaping it; and one's religion is never complete and final, it seems, but must always be undergoing modification.” That’s kind of how its been with you and me too, don’t you think? I mean, it’s been forty-six years now, some of it slow and painful, of building this relationship. You’re not the same God I knew as a kid and hopefully, I’m not the same either.
Remember when I thought you were like a super-parent? Watching over me, protecting me, giving me or helping me achieve things I asked for in prayer and sometimes not. That was cool when it worked and I made honor roll or got a new bike. But then Smokey, my cat, disappeared and right before Confirmation! That was low. And don’t get me started on grief...the profound suffering I endured concerning my sexual orientation. That really was the last straw. Remember how I begged and bargained with you for years on that and all I ever heard back was ______________. That’s right, nothing! You went from super-parent to absentee parent with that one. That memory still hurts, you know. It took awhile for me to forgive you. But I did. What choice did I have when I came to realize you didn’t really leave, you just changed? No more super parent, absentee parent or parent at all. And I changed too. That was about the time when I stopped including Jesus in our conversations, at least in the same way as I used to. It was a strange time, I struggled to understand. You seemed to be everywhere but if I had to describe you to a sketch artist, I couldn’t. It was kind of like St. Augustine said, “If you can understand it, it isn’t God.”
I don’t struggle as much anymore, not since those years studying with a Buddhist spiritual director. He’s the one that taught me the words we use to describe you, even the word God, are merely a finger pointing at the moon. “How then can we argue?” asked Meister Eckhart. Seems all too easy when people mistake their finger for the moon, as they often do. Anyway, even after all these years, I can’t say I understand you. But what I’m sure of is that God is not your name, it is a concept, a concept that exists whether or not I or others believe you are real. Let me know what you think.
Sincerely,
Craig
Dear God,
Got your reply. That was fast. Thanks. Though I have to say it was a lot easier to determine your responses when we had that parent/child like relationship. I express worry, fear, sadness and feel better or not...I ask for something and get it or not. Your responses always seem to be yes or no. Simple. That made you much more believable to me. I had always been told it was important to believe in you but I’ve come to question that instruction. For one thing, we humans are told to believe in a lot of questionable things, many of which turn out to be hoaxes...a certain jolly old soul from up north, for instance, or that tax cuts for the rich creates jobs.
A famous teaching attributed to the Buddha instructs as follows...
"Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.
Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders.
Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it."
This has really helped me realize that I don’t believe in you as a concrete form as much as I experience you in varied manifestations.
When I’m anxious I’m soothed by you in the contemplation of the night sky. When I’m happy I feel you in the impulse to share my joy with others. When I fail I know you as an opportunity to learn. When people gather together to celebrate or grief I experience you in the space between them, bonding them in community, in love.
You are there when I gaze at the sparkling reflection of the sun on the pond I live on each morning and the soil that births the peonies I love and the blue in the hydrangeas I wait for each year. I felt your tears as raindrops when I visited Auschwitz and witness your pain at our folly in catastrophic weather related to climate change, stock market collapses and senseless violence.
I think this is why your seem everywhere to me now and yet I can’t capture your image. Always, I hear you, taste you, smell you, see you, feel you. I don’t believe; I experience... Immanent and transcendent, I experience you. We are like a wave to your sea. Distinct yet one...lives arising from and descending back into one source... connected, inseparable.
Of course I realize other people may experience you in other, equally valid ways. And some wouldn’t call any of it God at all. God after all, isn’t your name. I’ll leave it at that for now.
Sincerely,
Craig
Dear God,
It has been fun to talk with you like this and quite a change since I more typically listen than speak. I suppose its good to break up our usual routine of contemplation and reflection every now and then. I don’t really have much else to say for now. Except maybe thank you.
It hasn’t always been easy, but if I were to name one thing that I treasure most about our relationship, it is that whether someone could prove or disprove the reality of your existence to me, it would not matter.
You see, my concept of you has given me an experience of connection to something larger than myself. An experience that has deepened my empathy and compassion for creatures great and small, human and animal and revealed my interconnectedness to this planet and all of life. An experience that has called me to a life in service of love and a commitment to inspiring and empowering others to recognize and embrace their wholeness. So, thank you. Its been real, even if you’re not.
Sincerely,
Craig
What would you say in a letter to God? Try it. You may be surprised by what you have to say.
Amen and Blessed Be
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