After a season of discord, it’s finally Christmas Day. A day of shepherds, stables and a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. God, a helpless child, trapped in a tiny box.
I’ve kept God in a box for most of my life. Granted, it was a much bigger box than the quaint manger to which we usually confine him on Christmas Day, but a box, nonetheless.
My “God Box” had very specific parameters. I could tell you what God thought about any important issue, how he would vote, and what political party he’d most likely belong to.
I knew what God approved of and what made him turn up his nose. I knew who was going to heaven and who was going to hell.
I could tell you which organized religions were on target, which were cults, and which were borderline (God might let them in, but grudgingly).
I knew which verses in the Bible were to be interpreted literally and which were figurative. I could tell you how and when the world was likely to end.
Coincidentally, God agreed with me on all of these things.
I knew so much about God because I’d studied the Bible, read lots of books on theology, and listened to the teachings of many theologians. I’d done inner-city mission work, taught Sunday school and Bible studies, and had evangelized door to door.
God and I, we were on the same team. Tight. Homies. He liked me. He really liked me.
But somewhere along the way, I began to feel frustrated and hollow. The God I was trying to please was a man-made creation. A God made in man’s own image. A God who was concerned about petty trivialities, hair- splitting, committees and fund-raising.
One day, I woke up and realized that if this was the God of the universe, then the universe was in deep trouble.
That was the day I decided to let God be God.
I decided I needed to get to know God on his own terms, instead of letting other people, no matter how educated, tell me about him.
As I’ve begun my journey of meeting God on his terms, I’m discovering that many of my long-held beliefs are changing. Not that I’m going against them, but beyond them.
I’m trying to separate tradition from truth, and man’s wisdom from God’s wisdom. I’m trying to untangle my image of God from the swaddling clothes of my own ego that I’ve tried to wrap him in for so many years.
Yes, I still believe God likes me, but not because I’m his official, all-knowing spokesperson.
Most of my dogma, my rules, my absolutes, and my pride are being stripped away.
In fact, I think God likes me better now that I’ve started to realize that when it comes to understanding or explaining him, I don’t know nearly as much as I used to think I did.
The more I explore the whole concept of an intelligent, creative force who created life and galaxies, time and space, the more certain I am that I could never even comprehend, much less explain, so great a being.
When I look at the astounding complexities of creation and all the carefully balanced organization of the world, all I know for sure is that I know absolutely nothing at all.
The God I’m beginning to discover is far, far bigger than the God I used to keep in my “God Box.”
So today, I wish you a Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Happy Holidays. (I don’t think God is very concerned about the words as long as they’re said with sincere love and genuine kindness.)
I wish you joy, peace and love. I wish you grace, strength and hope as you deal with life’s struggles and fears.
I wish you a God who is bigger than politics, governments and religious traditions. A God who was once a babe in a manger, and a God who lives in newborn babes around the world today. A God who lives in you and in me.
Tess Riley, a former children’s librarian, is now a full-time wife and mother of four. Visit her blog at tessaegg.blogspot.com.
