Photo taken by my brilliant brother-in-law, Gary, in Playa del Carmen, Mexico
There is nothing more awe inspiring than the ocean.
Except maybe the sky.
Just when I think one has finally outdone the other, I’m faced with a vision that takes me back to the original question. But I think I’ve finally decided; it’s the joining of the two. For me, there is no greater beauty in this world than the rendezvous of sky and sea - the fiery sphere of the sun reflecting on the waves as they dance to a rhythm set by an unseen moon. In fact, I’m not sure how anyone can behold (and no other word suffices here, certainly not ‘look’) this magical scene and question the existence of a Creator.
Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of questions for the Creator and about the Creator, but I’ve no doubt He (or She if you prefer…and I sometimes do) exists, and for whatever reason, I feel closest to Him/Her when I’m near the ocean.
Wherever I’ve travelled on this planet - and I’ve been blessed to travel quite a bit - the ocean is a delightful constant. Its brilliance is guaranteed. From the dark and stormy North Sea to the crystal transparency of the Gulf of Mexico. From the crashing waves of the Pacific to the milky waters of the Arabian Sea to the foamy spray of the Indian Ocean. Glorious and glittery, unpredictable and…well, indescribable (as has become apparent by this pitiful attempt).
I’m amazed that no matter what ocean you have the privilege of beholding (there’s that word again), it’s all connected; it’s all part of the same dance. So in that sense, when I’m near the sea, the world seems a little bit smaller, a bit more manageable. But at the same time, the power and enormity of the ocean is intimidating, so I can’t help but feel small and insignificant as I stand before it. What am I compared to this vast expanse of might and beauty? But then I consider that the ocean is sort of a gift, a blessing, and looking out at God’s masterpiece, I feel cherished and loved and even a little bit important…to be the recipient of such a gift.
This weekend at the coast, I felt especially close to God, or at least, I spent an unusual amount of time thinking about the subject. You see, a few months ago I asked my mom to send me a book I’d read about in an online NY Times article called The Shack. I’d been fascinated by how the book's grass roots marketing campaign had landed the private-press book on the bestseller list. According to the article, it was becoming a cultural phenomenon, not to mention a first in the world of publishing. As someone trying to break into that world, I was intrigued by this renegade book. And of course, I was also attracted to the little bits I’d read about the story itself. God appears as a black woman named Papa...Some religious leaders are embracing the book while others are scorning it as heresy...I was immediately sold.
My mom ordered it from Amazon the very second I mentioned it to her (She's always eager to encourage my somewhat lacking spiritual development). Of course, thanks to the ever-efficient South African Postal Service, ten weeks later, I still didn’t have it. In fact, I’d almost forgotten about the book when a notice for pick-up appeared in my mailbox on Wednesday. But I picked it up from the post office on our way out of town last Thursday and had finished the book by Saturday morning.
Now, it's not unusual for me to bury myself in a book while on vacation, but The Shack kept me fascinated me with its creative portrayal of God and its innovative attempt to answer the questions that haunt us. I was riveted, turning page after page, anticipating the main character's ‘Ah ha!’ moment and hoping to experience the same. But alas, while The Shack made a valiant effort, my ‘Ah ha!’ moment never came. Because no book holds all the answers…no, not even that book. Um, perhaps I should now take my laptop underneath the bed to hide from the inevitable bolt of lightening. But really, the Bible can’t explain poverty and famine. It holds no answers for why mankind continues to harm each other with war and crime and terrorism. It doesn’t offer answers as to why Bryan and Mrs. T and millions of others have to suffer though cancer and chemo. It doesn’t even explain why God’s magnificent ocean gets angry this time of year, turning against us by taking lives and destroying homes…explain that one, huh?
Okay, some people would say that the Bible does explain all that…Genesis 3, to be exact. That line of thinking says the Fall of Man set all the bad stuff in motion. Adam and Eve ate the fruit, so they brought it on themselves (and all of us too...how fair is that?). Well, I don’t find that answer satisfactory. It doesn't make sense to me. Why can’t God just rewrite the rules? He was the original author, right? What’s so wrong with a revision? Can’t He make a few exceptions? Still hiding from that lightening by the way!
I admit, I hoped The Shack would provide more answers than it did, but it’s still worth the read. If nothing else it reminded me that my questions – my ‘issues’ – with God aren’t at all unusual. Like a teenager whining that no one understands me, I’m just like the six billion other people on the planet trying to figure out what it all means…
Except maybe the sky.
Just when I think one has finally outdone the other, I’m faced with a vision that takes me back to the original question. But I think I’ve finally decided; it’s the joining of the two. For me, there is no greater beauty in this world than the rendezvous of sky and sea - the fiery sphere of the sun reflecting on the waves as they dance to a rhythm set by an unseen moon. In fact, I’m not sure how anyone can behold (and no other word suffices here, certainly not ‘look’) this magical scene and question the existence of a Creator.
Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of questions for the Creator and about the Creator, but I’ve no doubt He (or She if you prefer…and I sometimes do) exists, and for whatever reason, I feel closest to Him/Her when I’m near the ocean.
Wherever I’ve travelled on this planet - and I’ve been blessed to travel quite a bit - the ocean is a delightful constant. Its brilliance is guaranteed. From the dark and stormy North Sea to the crystal transparency of the Gulf of Mexico. From the crashing waves of the Pacific to the milky waters of the Arabian Sea to the foamy spray of the Indian Ocean. Glorious and glittery, unpredictable and…well, indescribable (as has become apparent by this pitiful attempt).
I’m amazed that no matter what ocean you have the privilege of beholding (there’s that word again), it’s all connected; it’s all part of the same dance. So in that sense, when I’m near the sea, the world seems a little bit smaller, a bit more manageable. But at the same time, the power and enormity of the ocean is intimidating, so I can’t help but feel small and insignificant as I stand before it. What am I compared to this vast expanse of might and beauty? But then I consider that the ocean is sort of a gift, a blessing, and looking out at God’s masterpiece, I feel cherished and loved and even a little bit important…to be the recipient of such a gift.
This weekend at the coast, I felt especially close to God, or at least, I spent an unusual amount of time thinking about the subject. You see, a few months ago I asked my mom to send me a book I’d read about in an online NY Times article called The Shack. I’d been fascinated by how the book's grass roots marketing campaign had landed the private-press book on the bestseller list. According to the article, it was becoming a cultural phenomenon, not to mention a first in the world of publishing. As someone trying to break into that world, I was intrigued by this renegade book. And of course, I was also attracted to the little bits I’d read about the story itself. God appears as a black woman named Papa...Some religious leaders are embracing the book while others are scorning it as heresy...I was immediately sold.
My mom ordered it from Amazon the very second I mentioned it to her (She's always eager to encourage my somewhat lacking spiritual development). Of course, thanks to the ever-efficient South African Postal Service, ten weeks later, I still didn’t have it. In fact, I’d almost forgotten about the book when a notice for pick-up appeared in my mailbox on Wednesday. But I picked it up from the post office on our way out of town last Thursday and had finished the book by Saturday morning.
Now, it's not unusual for me to bury myself in a book while on vacation, but The Shack kept me fascinated me with its creative portrayal of God and its innovative attempt to answer the questions that haunt us. I was riveted, turning page after page, anticipating the main character's ‘Ah ha!’ moment and hoping to experience the same. But alas, while The Shack made a valiant effort, my ‘Ah ha!’ moment never came. Because no book holds all the answers…no, not even that book. Um, perhaps I should now take my laptop underneath the bed to hide from the inevitable bolt of lightening. But really, the Bible can’t explain poverty and famine. It holds no answers for why mankind continues to harm each other with war and crime and terrorism. It doesn’t offer answers as to why Bryan and Mrs. T and millions of others have to suffer though cancer and chemo. It doesn’t even explain why God’s magnificent ocean gets angry this time of year, turning against us by taking lives and destroying homes…explain that one, huh?
Okay, some people would say that the Bible does explain all that…Genesis 3, to be exact. That line of thinking says the Fall of Man set all the bad stuff in motion. Adam and Eve ate the fruit, so they brought it on themselves (and all of us too...how fair is that?). Well, I don’t find that answer satisfactory. It doesn't make sense to me. Why can’t God just rewrite the rules? He was the original author, right? What’s so wrong with a revision? Can’t He make a few exceptions? Still hiding from that lightening by the way!
I admit, I hoped The Shack would provide more answers than it did, but it’s still worth the read. If nothing else it reminded me that my questions – my ‘issues’ – with God aren’t at all unusual. Like a teenager whining that no one understands me, I’m just like the six billion other people on the planet trying to figure out what it all means…
Whew. I'm a bit nervous about hitting the 'publish' button tonight. But I figure, I spill my guts about everything else in this forum, so why not address yet another taboo? Yep, what did they tell me when I was going through sorority rush? Oh yes, polite conversation avoids the three B’s…Boys, Booze, and the Bible. Hmmm. I think with this post we will have now covered all of them!
And as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject…
4 comments:
Now I want to read The Shack.
I, too, cringe from the lightning bolts at times, when I am honest with my thoughts and questions.
To discuss such so-called 'taboo' topics, you did so quite eloquently.
One of the things I love most about your writing is how you write what you feel without trying to fit into a particular mold. Too often people say what they think others want to hear rather than what they feel. By being refreshingly honest though, I felt in complete sync with your post.
Sometimes I find myself wondering what life is all about and why the injustices and abuses occur around the world. I know life isn't perfect, but does it need to be so imperfect for some? Excellent post--and amazing photo to go with it!
Good job again, Kiddo. Your questions span the ages, but as I grow older, I think I have made some discoveries. All the 'bad' things you mention seem to happen only to liberal democrats! What does that tell you abot God's political preferen......
Hello, I am the cleaning guy. This comment cannot be completed due to a lightning bolt strike at this computer. We are still looking for the anonymous guy that was writing at the time, sorry.
Ha ha! Very funny Mr. Not-so-anonymous.
Thanks for the comments though!
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