Oh, boy. Here goes my response to amazing Dr. Hawking and his friends. They get a bit silly, I think. And let's not even talk about that pastor with a gun down in Gainsville.
We each create God. Compassionate people create a compassionate God. Cruel people have a harsh God. Lots of us give our God a good sense of humor, and lots of us have Gods with long, puzzling list of rules. I think truly moral people create a God who is simple, courageous, and maybe most importantly, forgiving. How can science tell us about God? Beethoven, Shakespeare, Rosa Parks, people like that have told us something, and there have been holy men and women who were able to share their thoughts about God, but the God who helps me out is the one I need and love, and have since I was a little kid. When I heard about God from grown-ups, I don't remember being surprised, astonished, doubtful. "Yeah, okay. God-so that's what it's called." We're born knowing, I think. And maybe we die knowing. I hope so.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Thursday, September 09, 2010
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
From a Zoetrope discussion about probable scientific revelations regarding soul, spirit, God
Yes, well.
The explanation might be forthcoming, and when the people who are investigating explain these things (soul, spirit, God) to me, I'll listen, and I might even understand. Until then I'm happy enough referring to my mystery as my soul.
After the cop and I walked into my brother's trailer, (caravan in the UK?) and found Ric a day dead, my soul sickened, and it hasn't fully recovered.
I know when I danced on stage or alone in the studio, or when the answer to a choreographic phrase "came" to me, (sometimes it seemed directly from the music) my soul felt good, and somehow, big.
All my life there have been moments when my spirit has been shaken by the creativity of others, thank God.
Most of the time I go on with living without feeling moved much at all. But when something does touch me, it's my soul that's stirred. Science may well explain this someday.
When that happens, I might refer to my soul by it's new name, but I imagine I'll be old by then and I'll do what my 88 year-old father does. When there's a bit of new brilliance, he smiles, his eyebrows lift, he gives it a passing nod, and he lets it slide on by.
Akshually I'm glad this came up, and I'm gladder that I thought about it. I've been bored by my own brain lately. xxoononnie
The explanation might be forthcoming, and when the people who are investigating explain these things (soul, spirit, God) to me, I'll listen, and I might even understand. Until then I'm happy enough referring to my mystery as my soul.
After the cop and I walked into my brother's trailer, (caravan in the UK?) and found Ric a day dead, my soul sickened, and it hasn't fully recovered.
I know when I danced on stage or alone in the studio, or when the answer to a choreographic phrase "came" to me, (sometimes it seemed directly from the music) my soul felt good, and somehow, big.
All my life there have been moments when my spirit has been shaken by the creativity of others, thank God.
Most of the time I go on with living without feeling moved much at all. But when something does touch me, it's my soul that's stirred. Science may well explain this someday.
When that happens, I might refer to my soul by it's new name, but I imagine I'll be old by then and I'll do what my 88 year-old father does. When there's a bit of new brilliance, he smiles, his eyebrows lift, he gives it a passing nod, and he lets it slide on by.
Akshually I'm glad this came up, and I'm gladder that I thought about it. I've been bored by my own brain lately. xxoononnie
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