The Bible: Commentary and Controversy

Which begins: “There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil.” How many of those do you know?

This is a terrible, terrible story, as any parent who has lost a child will tell you. But of course it is just a story, told and written more for the art of telling than in any sort of reality. Imagine, if you can, a God who would let Satan take from a blameless man everything he has in the world, including his ten children, just to prove to the devil how good and steadfast the man is.

Someone once said the story of Job is one of the most important in the bible,  because it shows us that God is not responsible for evil. That statement’s so full of contradictions it makes no sense at all. So God lets Satan play games with his creations? Just to settle a bet? What In heaven does that make God?

Toward the end of the long, long poem, God and Job have an extended conversation, after which God arranges for Job to accumulate far more riches and goods than he had before, and gives him ten more children. Job, I assume, is supposed to be happy again; that’s one of the points of the story. But as a father who has lost a child, I know nothing could ever replace that child, and a parent who loses a child can never be one hundred percent happy again; there will always be that hole in his or her heart. So to me, the only worth of the story of Job – as, probably, the originator intended – is in the telling. The language. The similes, analogies, descriptions, and power. If there’s a more serious message than God hates and smites the wicked, and blesses the good, and that you shouldn’t blame God or lose faith in Him when things go bad, I’m missing it.

It does, however, take the heat off of God by presenting an answer to the age old question about why bad things happen to good people. The devil did it.

So there was only one couple in the world back then – Adam and Eve. And when Adam was 130 years old he begat Seth – in his image. We assume the mother was Eve, but the bible doesn’t specify that. Then Adam (and Eve, we suppose) had a bunch of other sons and daughters, and died when he had reached the ripe old age of nine hundred and thirty. There is a lot of controversy about that number, and the prolonged age of others in this period, one problem being that according to Ellicot, “primaeval man had no power of expressing large numbers.” Whoops. Another suggestion is the Jewish calendar back in those days was based on the cycles of the moon and not of the sun. Which would make Adam about 78.

But who really cares whether Adam lived to be nine hundred or ninety? What real effect does that have on the story?

Anyway, Adam had all these kids. Then Seth had a bunch of kids. Evidently with his sisters (hopefully not with his mother.) Then Enosh, one of his sons, had a bunch of kids, but we really don’t know with whom, but we have to assume it was also with his sisters.

It keeps going. Always the male participant is named, but never the female. At any rate, it’s obvious that all those relationships were incestuous: mother/son, father/daughter, brother/sister.

But wait, there’s more. Cain went into the land of Nod, which lay East of Eden, and had relations with his wife, and she gave birth to Enoch. Wait. His wife? Where did she come from? Ellicot surmises one of his sisters followed Cain into Nod (which some say was Mongolia) “in spite of the solemn decree of banishment passed upon him.”

This is getting a little creepy. Obviously, according to the Bible, we’re all related, and are still practicing a remote form of incest. Maybe the ages of the antediluvians is necessary to the proposition that Adam and Even populated the world; they needed to live that long so they could have enough children.

Of course it all stems from the supposition that God created only two creatures: one male and one female. Frankly, I think that supposition, and all of the begats, is a bunch of twaddle. It’s there because it tells a story and has a moral; that is its function and its purpose.

Do we really see Adam and Eve telling Cain and Abel the paradise story? “Yeah, we had it really good, but we screwed up and doomed mankind forever to turmoil, hardship, and death. Here’s the whole story so you can pass it on to your children.”

Of course as far as I’m concerned, all that is totally irrelevant. There are some highlights. For example, Enoch, who walked with God, was taken by God – meaning, evidently, he was such a reverent person he didn’t have to die, but went straight up into heaven.

Now we come to the weird part.

“And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.” And “The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown.”

Or according to the King James version, “There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.”

So the sons of God took the daughters of men as wives, and those daughters bore children to the Nephilim (the giants). Problem is, no one seems to know exactly who the sons of God were, and who or what the Nephilim were.

The sons of God, the daughters of men, and the Nephilim.  Jesus taught that we are all sons of God, but there’s an obvious distinction here, differentiating the sons of God from the race descending from Adam and Eve and, obviously, from the Nephilim. Sounds like three different races, and if that’s so, where did those three races come from?

Whoever and whatever they were, these passages set up the basis for the flood. When the Lord saw the wickedness of man was great, he was sorry that he had made man, and determined to blot out his creatures from the earth except for one: Noah, who walked with God and had found favor with Him. Which included man, beast, the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air, “for I regret that I made them.” The explanation is that “every creature had corrupted its way on the earth.”

I get the man part, but it’s kind of hard to see what the birds and beasts had done to anger Him. I do think, however, that getting rid of “the creeping thing” might have been a good idea.

Incidentally, that’s also when some biblical scholars say God shaved about 800 years off of man’s life expectancy, pronouncing (to whom?) that “his days shall be 120 years.”  That provides a lot of food for thought. Folks regularly living for eight or nine hundred years before the flood, and only about 15% that long afterward.

Others have a different opinion – that 120 years was left for man before he would be destroyed by the flood. That interpretation would give Noah 120 years to build the ark. And then there’s that moon cycles vs sun cycles controversy.

Obviously, to believe the story of Noah and the flood, you must believe that some supernatural power made it possible. God, aliens, whatever. How else could Noah have built this huge boat – 500 feet long and 75 feet wide? Imagine first the amount of wood needed, the number of “gopher” or cypress trees that would have to be cut down and made into boards, beams, and planks.

A modern replica, built to scale, was opened for viewing in Kentucky in 2016. It required well over three million board feet of lumber to build. I’m no lumberman, but from what information I can find on the subject, that much wood would require about ten thousand mature cypress trees. No idea on the length of time it takes to cut a cypress tree down, strip it, and cut it into boards, but there’s no doubt it was good they had 120 years to do it.

Then there’s the concept of going out and collecting a male and female version of every living thing, bringing them back to the ark, and fitting them in it. Along with enough food to keep them all alive for a year or so.

According to Young’s literal translation, God told Noah to bring into the Ark “of all the clean beasts seven pairs, a male and its female; and of the beasts which are not clean two, a male and its female; also, of fowl of the heavens seven pairs, a male and a female, to keep alive seed on the face of all the earth.” That is a pretty sizeable group of livestock, to say nothing of the flying and creeping things. God evidently gave Noah a week to do all that.

So the ark is built and stocked, and then it rains for forty nights and forty days, the same length of time, by the way, that Jesus spent in the wilderness, and the number of days He spent on earth after His resurrection.   So the water raises “15 cubits high,” covers the highest mountains, and raises the ark, which floats for almost a year before God causes the waters to subside.

Noah turns all the creatures out to be fruitful and multiply, and immediately begins building an altar. When it’s finished, he takes “one of every clean beast, and one of every clean fowl, and burns them on the altar as a sacrifice to God. That’s quite an offering. Quite an altar, too, come to think of it. It also, evidently, assumes that all the clean beasts and all the clean fowls had reproduced during the year they were on the ark. Of those that didn’t there would be only one left, and the species would become extinct.

And “Jehovah smelleth the sweet fragrance,” and decides not to smite man anymore.

The multitude of holes in that story have been pointed out countless times; no need for me to repeat them. But of course if you believe in God, you can dismiss them, because God is all-powerful.  Maybe He shrank all the animals down to the size of an ant; maybe He just handed Noah a box of self-activating DNA samples from all the creatures. All that’s not important, anyway, because the story of Noah, like all the other stories in the bible, is a parable, which is “a simple story used to illustrate a moral or spiritual lesson.” Granted, not all of the stories in the bible are simple. Nor are they, necessarily, all fiction. The point is, they’re all there to teach us something. And most often the lesson is about the necessity for and power of faith. And, of course, sacrifice.

In the Old testament, we are able to interact with a being who appears before us, and speaks to us, and punishes and rewards us, pretty much in person.  In the New Testament, we are given a Being who walks and talks with us for more than three decades, then leaves us for Heaven, and becomes our intercessor.  The difference seems to be obvious, but it’s more complicated than it appears.

The serpent told Eve that if she and Adam ate the fruit they would become as gods. Based on that promise, they ate, and were excommunicated. But as we’ve discussed, their sin was not disobedience, or pride, or any other common “sin.”  Their “sin” was not in raising themselves to God’s level, but in bringing Him down to theirs.

So when Jesus came, what did He do?  He raised us back up to God’s level, as His children, with all the benefits derived from that relationship, thereby “taking away the sin of the world.”

But back to the bible. If everything is a parable, what’s the moral of the Noah story? What is it teaching us? That if we aren’t good little boys and girls God will wipe us out? That’s the obvious lesson. By fire next time. And the way we’re all behaving, that day may not be far off.

As with just about every other story in the bible, the lessons are about faith, obedience, and sacrifice.

“Then God said to Noah…”

Which brings up an interesting point (to me, anyway). The old testament is full of God talking to people, saying things to people. How does He do that? Since He doesn’t always “appear,” He speaks to them in other ways – as a voice in their heads, perhaps, or from the sky. If so, how do they know the voice they “hear” is really God’s? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t shout to them from the sky, as He would in a Monty Python sketch. Wait. There is at least one passage in the bible where He does just that.

I’m really not being flip; I just think this is a rather glaring omission by the authors. I’d like to know how God communicated with all those folks without appearing in human form, or as a burning bush, or whatever. Which brings up still another point: why in the world appear as a burning bush?

To Moses and His people he appears as a dark cloud, and as Moses brings the people to meet Him, “Mount Sinai was all in smoke because the LORD descended upon it in fire; and its smoke ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mountain quaked violently. When the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke and God answered him with thunder.” That’s enough to stir the heart of Erich von Daniken, or any other ancient alienist. Also a pretty good description of a volcano erupting.

So at least once God just spoke as a voice from the sky. When that happened, did the ones He was speaking to faint, or have to run change their drawers? Nope. They listened, and pretty much did what the voice told them to do. I don’t know about you, but if I was on the 8^th green about to make a putt and heard God speaking to me from the heavens, I would do what He told me to do, too. Especially if everyone in my foursome also heard Him. If they didn’t, I’d probably wind up in a padded cell.

But I digress.

So along comes Abram, and God tells him to go to a certain place, where He will make him become a great nation. And Abram takes his family and goes. When he reaches the appointed spot, God (Jehovah) appears to him and says “to thy seed I give this land.” Nothing about how He appeared, or what He looked like. Just that He appears. And Abram builds Him an altar.

Incidentally, this is, according to Ellicott, “the first time that any appearance of the Deity is mentioned. Always previously the communications between God and man had been direct, without the intervention of any visible medium,” as in “God commanded Adam,” and “Adam and Eve heard His voice,” and he “called” them, or “spake” to them.

There is a famine, and Abram goes with his wife, Sarai, to Egypt, to “sojourn” there. Well, Sarai is a beautiful woman, and when the Pharaoh sees here, he wants her. And Abram says to her “pretend you are my sister, because seeing how beautiful you are, if the Egyptians think you are my wife they’ll kill me and take you away.”

But the plan has a flaw. Pharaoh, believing she is Abram’s sister, takes her into his house as a wife/concubine, giving Abram all sorts of wonderful presents for her.

Then Jehovah brings plagues – great plagues – on Pharaoh’s house, letting him know it is because he has taken Abram’s wife. We don’t know how He let the Pharaoh know that, but he did. Maybe Sarai owned up. So he chides Abram and tells him to go away, taking all his stuff with him.

Biblical scholars tell us this part of Abram’s story is important because it details the origin of the Jewish nation – when God says to Abram “to thy seed I give this land.”

So Abram, now a wealthy man thanks to the Pharaoh, returns to the land the Lord had directed him to. And the Lord says to him “Lift up thine eyes and look North, and South, and East, and West, for the whole of the land which thou are seeing, to thee I give it, and to thy seed — to the age.”

And Abram builds Him another altar.

Pretty soon we hear about a war (the War of the Kings) in which Lot (Abram’s nephew) is taken prisoner. When Abram hears of this he takes his 318 trained domestics, and smiteth the bad kings, and rescues Lot, and plunders the lands of those he’s conquered. But Abram refuses to take any of this plunder for himself, so that no one can say “I have made Abram rich.”

When he returns home, Abram is troubled. God has given him the land, and promised him many children, and said He would reward him exceedingly, but Abram has seen no real effect of those promises. He has no children, and how does he know the land is really his? Most importantly, all the land and riches mean nothing if Abram has no children to inherit them. So he whines a little to God, who – instead of vaporizing him for his impertinence – reassures him, appearing to him at night while Abram is in a dream state, or trance.

In his trance, Abram sees God lead him from his tent, where He tells him to count the stars, and says “thus is thy seed.” But that’s not enough for Abram. He asks God “How do I know I possess it?” How about some proof, Jehovah? If I’d asked my father a question like that I’d have been sent to my room. But not God.

Instead, God tells Abram to assemble a group of animals and fowl, divide them, and lay them in the field, which Abram does, and spends the rest of the day shooing away birds of prey that came to feast on the carcasses. As the sun was going down, Abram fell into a deep sleep, and in that sleep a great and terrible darkness came upon him. And in that darkness God spoke to him. This was God proving He was God – a profound terror, as Ellicott says, “which the creature cannot but feel when brought near to the manifest presence of the Creator.”

God tells Abram that his children will be “strangers in a strange land,” and will be afflicted by those in the land for 400 years, but it will all end happily, and Abram will go to his fathers in peace. The trance ends with Jehovah leaving – as “a smoking furnace and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces,” meaning the carcasses Abram had put down.

As a reminder – I am not attempting to write a new translation of the bible, just commenting on those passages that interest me, and bringing a new interpretation to those that present themselves.

And here’s one of the interesting parts. Because she can’t conceive, Sarai tells Abram to lie with Hagar, her handmaid, so he can have a child. He does that, and Hagar conceives. This changes her relationship with Sarai; she begins to disrespect her mistress. Sarai complains about it to Abram, who replies “She’s your handmaid; do with her what you will.” So Sarai chastizes Hagar and sends her away.

In her flight, Hagar rests for a time “by the fountain of water in the wilderness.” Where “a messenger of Jehovah” finds her and tells her she will bear a son, and to go back and humble herself to Sarai, which Hagar does. He also tells her to call her son Ishmael, and that he will be “a wild-ass man, his hand against every one, and every one’s hand against him — and before the face of all his brethren he dwelleth.”

The interesting point: this is the first use of the term “messenger of Jehovah.”

Obviously, though, it’s far from the first appearance of God Himself, who is frequently involved on a one on one basis with his creatures — appearing to them, speaking to them, sending his messengers, making promises, commanding them, making threats, and otherwise being a part of their everyday lives. Very reminiscent of the gods of other religions: the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians, among others, who were constantly popping in and out of mortals’ lives. The significance of that is a matter for you to contemplate.

Of all the forces in human nature, hope is by far the most important.  Without hope, no miracles occur, no inventions happen, there is no  striving, no ambition, no vital force. Because hope is a positive  emotion, always concerning some kind of improvement in our current  condition, without hope we become merely zombies, trudging through a  sunless world of apathy and despair.

Of course hope swings on faith. Without faith there can be no hope. So  which comes first? Well, by definition in that last sentence, faith must  come first; we need something on which to pin our hope.

Someone described faith as “belief in things not seen.”   Which raises  the question: What the hell does that mean??? I mean, it sounds  wonderful and simple and elegant, but think about it. Where does the  belief come from, for instance?

Thousands of years ago, cave people, then others — Egyptians, Greeks —  had faith in their “gods” — the sun, the moon, trees, whatever.  Obviously those were things they could see and anthropomorphize. Then  all of a sudden comes this monotheistic belief in a god that’s not tied  to any worldly item. He’s not a talking tree (ok, he was a talking bush a  couple of times, but he became the bush instead of the bush becoming  him) or the sun or a bear or a star; he’s this unattached god who  creates the sun and the moon and the earth and the animals and man, and  woman. Wow! Where did that come from?

Of course some special people can see this god and talk to him, but  everyone else has to take it on FAITH. The belief in things unseen, with  the only evidence being the spoken or written word.

Or is that true? Is it possible we feel there is something, someone else  out there, know it’s true in the depths of our souls? Or not? As some  smart guy said “if god did not exist man would have to invent him.” So  here’s the question. Did we invent him, and thereby engender our belief?  Or do we believe in him because he’s really out there?

Actually I don’t think that’s the question at all; it’s just tangential  to the original question “what the hell does that mean?” The belief in  things unseen thing. Of course that covers a ton of territory. Including  ghosts, vampires, werewolves, heaven/hell, honest politicians, and a  myriad of other “unseen” things.

Come to think of it, that’s probably why God is taking more and more of a  back seat to aliens, and superheroes and all those other things  previously alluded to. Let’s face it; He’s not nearly as glamorous or  scary or powerful or REAL as those other things. Funny, but crosses  don’t seem to bother the modern vampire, and holy water rolls right off  of them, when it used to make them smoke and scream.

Also come to think of it, you know who believes in god a whole lot more  than most of us apparently do? Those guys in the robes and funny hats  who are hell bent on killing us. OK, maybe that’s not true. God knows  (oops) his name has been used as an excuse for the most egregious crimes  against humanity. I read somewhere that Hitler was a religious man,  that he believed he was walking in the footsteps of some Aryan god or  other. So there you go.

But I digress. Or maybe not. Today’s movies, and TV, and computer games  give us a much, much clearer picture of deviants than of god. What young  mind would not choose to believe in seductively handsome vampires  rather than some old man in a white robe? We get incredibly vividly realistic representations of monsters, vampires, dragons, aliens,  witches and other nonexistent creatures. And what picture do we get of  god? George Burns and Morgan Freeman.

Yeah, yeah, I know. We have Jesus, who did stuff like walk on water and  bring people back from the dead. But shoot, those are just parlor tricks  compared to what Superman and his ilk can do.

Speaking of Jesus, I think he’s probably the fulcrum of “Christianity”  because he really existed, or at least we believe he did. And that gives  us an anchor for our faith — gives us the possibility of believing in  “things unseen” because after all Jesus was real, wasn’t he? So we can  believe in things unseen because of someone real who says we can.

It’s all very complicated, isn’t it?

I guess there are really two major forces at work: those that appeal to  our “good” side (love thy neighbor, be charitable, try to be ascendant,  don’t steal, kill, covet, and all that other stuff) and those that  appeal to our “bad” side (if it feels good, do it; do whatever, just  don’t get caught; take advantage of people whenever you can; think only  of yourself.) The god side and the devil side.

One thing this little exercise has done is clear up a mystery for me —  about the rise of belief in unseen things; aliens, vampires, etc. I now  recognize why we have more “faith” in them than in god. God obviously  lost support because he wouldn’t let us have any fun. The other  creatures have replaced him because they basically follow no rules, and  because they’re ever so much more glamorous.

I think god needs a new PR man.

Seems like everywhere you look these days, you see super heroes, ghosts, vampires, aliens, monsters, zombies, and other extra-reality things. Not really, of course. On TV, in books, magazines, game boys, Xboxes, wherever. I’m wondering what the attraction is. Why this escape from reality into what is usually something so dark it would seem unattractive at best.

Face it, believers.  There is no such thing as a vampire. Or a ghost. Or Bigfoot, or the Loch Ness Monster, or zombies, or people who can fly and throw lightning bolts, or aliens. Well, maybe extra-terrestrials; it seems rather solipsistic to call them aliens, don’t you think? I don’t say they don’t exist; with trillions of possible worlds out there, that would be incredibly arrogant.

However, the other stuff is just plain dopey. How about a TV show starring a good vampire? Are you kidding? He sucks people’s blood to stay alive, and he’s a good guy? Double stupid. Little green men capturing people and taking them to their space ship to have sex with them or stick weird things into them. Triple stupid. Sounds to me like delusions of grandeur. I do get the super hero thing. The bubble brains who watch that stuff probably are experiencing momentary transference — wishing they could fly, or at least leap tall buildings at a single bound.

Okay, so if there’s no proof that any of these things exist, how about God?  No proof there, either, right? All these things take a leap of faith. But the dumb things are an easier leap, because they don’t really have any effect on your life.

Believe in God and you have to walk the line — at least as well as you can. Believe in that other crap and you just have to stay out of dark alleys, or wear a garlic clove around your neck. (Which, I guess, rules out Italian vampires. There are lots of unanswered questions like that. For instance, can you ward off a Jewish vampire with a crucifix?)

I do remember loving the mummy pictures when I was a kid.  Walking home in the dark, positive I could hear that step, scrape, coming behind me. (It never occurred to me that I could run rings around a gimpy mummy.) I remember being scared out of my wits the first time I saw The Thing (from another world). The operative word here is “kid.”

But these days even grown-ups believe in all that stuff. That fascination, it seems — that belief — should have been left behind years ago. The question is, I guess, has all that stuff become some kind of a substitute for religion? It’s certainly at the other end of the scale. Can you believe in those things and still believe in God? I guess you could peg them all as creatures of the devil. But I don’t think that enters into it.  I think the opposite is true. These beings represent a life that is totally ungoverned, basically answering to no one. Okay, there is the vampire holy water crucifix thing. But even that doesn’t seem to work anymore.

All of this seems somehow to mirror a much larger picture — the shift from the moral code we’ve always lived with (we called it God, ten commandments, golden rule, etc.) and the moral abyss into which we are being thrown. Pretty much every great nation’s demise has been foreshadowed by a turning away from morality, a relaxation of accountability, the growth of the “if it feels good, do it” mentality.

That doesn’t mean you have to believe in God. But whatever you call it, you must have some kind of higher standard in place, an ideal to pattern ourselves after. Or irresponsibility inevitably becomes chaos. It’s well under way in the United States. Just look at today’s headlines — at the greed, licentiousness, murder, lies, and viciousness in America, and the apparent utter lack of conscience. Bernie Madoff, for example. Or a man who walks into a church and shoots the pastor, or walks into a school and kills two dozen children he doesn’t even know.

What in God’s name has happened to the most wonderful country in history? Oh, sorry, God’s about gone. Maybe that’s a clue.

…is there a devil?

One of the oldest truths we know is that there are two sides to everything. An equal and opposite reaction to every action. Can’t have hills without valleys, sadness without happiness, good without evil. Yin without Yang. Else how could we recognize anything for what it is? If everything was good, there would be no “good.” So without a “devil” there could be no God? I’m not a logician or theorist, so I can’t say for certain, but it seems if you believe in one, you must believe in the other. That is not an affirmation of God’s existence, just an apparent truth that – like the old song says – you can’t have one without the other.

…did he create us?

It seems to me that just because there is a god (if there is one) it doesn’t necessarily follow that he created us, and the zebras, and light, and mosquitoes, and all the flora and fauna. Or that he didn’t. Personally, I find no inconsistencies between Darwinism and Creationism – when considered rationally. Certainly an omniscient, all-powerful God could create a universe any way he wanted to: in 5,235 years or 5 trillion years. He could grab a handful of mud and make a living man, or he could set up a system in such a way that evolution would eventually produce one. Why do the creationists limit the power of God? Scientists who believe in God have made a significant leap of faith; can’t the creationists make a similar one – to the other side?

…what’s his purpose?

Why would a God make man, anyway? The only similar act I can think of is a child making toys – objects of amusement. I learned in Catholic schools that we were made to love, honor and obey God. Why, for heavens’ sake? Why would he create a bunch of human ants? Is he so narcissistic that he had to create a realm of vastly inferior creatures in hopes that they would love him?

That sounds sick to me. Are we simply the equivalent of house pets? I’m quite sure I’ve bored people on earth into unconsciousness. What in the frick am I going to say to God that he finds interesting for the next trillion years or so?

…where did he come from?

I know “God is now, always has been, and always will be” is the standard answer, but to me it’s just a dopey escape hatch because we can’t explain God any other way. Things have to have a beginning. And if they have a beginning they must have an end. Which is why, of course, those who believe in God must believe and protest that God “always has been.” It’s a similar answer in my under-educated opinion to the one the scientists give about the beginning of the universe.

The big bang theory, as I understand it, was an explosion that sent matter flying through space. The matter, still in motion, is the universe as we know it today. Of course, the theory has a few niggling problems, such as “What exploded?” and “Why did it explode?” and “Where did ‘space’ come from?” Certainly I believe the possibility of concepts beyond the present scope of the human mind.

Do I believe it is possible for something to exist with no beginning and no end? Not exactly. I do not believe it is impossible. Though I have trouble even spelling space-time-continuum, much less understanding it, I can dimly perceive that – if time is a closed infinity – something could exist in it “forever.” In fact it would have to, since time itself would have no beginning and no end.

…why doesn’t he/she show him/herself any more?

I’m puzzled by all the leaps of faith we have to make to accommodate the god in the bible. Not because of the miracles, or the creation of the universe, or any of those “unbelievable” things, because if he’s god, after all, no problem. I just don’t understand how or why his persona changes so dramatically with the passage of time. He starts off by creating man and woman, putting them into a perfect universe, and giving them a test they must pass in order to stay there – a test he knows they’ll fail.

What’s his point? Is it simply a test of his own ability to make things? If they pass, he pats himself on the back? If they fail, does he try again? Not on this earth, anyway. All through the old testament he’s pretty consistent – an eye for an eye, etc.

Then along comes his son Jesus to absolve man of his original sin (the one god set man up for) proclaiming that love is the only way. Instead of eye for an eye we have turn the other cheek. What prompted that change? And if Jesus really was the son of God, that’s the only solid evidence we’ve had of His existence in over 2,000 years. Yet he was popping in and out of people’s lives in person all through the old testament. Where has he gone? Why doesn’t he (or obviously she) show him/herself anymore? And if he did really show himself with such abandon in the early days, how in the world did anyone not believe in him? Do you believe in god? Heck, yes, I just saw him over there by the fishpond.

…what does he mean by “sin?”

I really don’t understand all this business about sin being so bad. After all, god created it. He was the one who set Adam and Eve up to commit the first sin – setting them down in paradise, telling them only one thing was forbidden, then siccing the serpent on them. Of course the bible doesn’t say exactly what “sin” they committed other than being disobedient. (I explained that to my own satisfaction in the “Genesis” chapters.) In the old testament god defines sin very specifically for us. In the new testament everything gets hazy again.

Jesus basically tells us to treat others as we would want to be treated, which also seems fraught with problems because it assumes a society in which there are no aberrant individuals. For example, if Hitler believed so strongly that Jews should be eliminated in order to purify the Aryan race that he would have freely entered the gas chambers had he been Jewish, then according to Jesus he committed no sin by murdering millions of human beings. Surely there’s a flaw in that logic; I just haven’t been able to uncover it yet.

Also, what constitutes sin in one society is completely acceptable in another. Cannibalism is an obvious example. Jesus speaks the words “sin” and “sinner” often in the new testament, but never defines them.

…is he “our” God? Or everything’s?

Is he the god of Mars, and Alpha Centauri, and whatever else is out there in the trillions and trillions of hunks of rock and metal and gas scooting around the universe? It seems we’re pretty solipsistic in our view of him. Of course that’s the way we view pretty much everything, except for all those nutty exogenists, Trekkies, and other eccentrics. It’s “our” universe, after all. Irrelevantly, I wonder how all of us who rely on going to heaven are going to feel about sharing “god” with Vulcans, Tribbles, Ferengi, and whatever else is out there. If, of course, anything is.

…did we invent him/her/them/it?

Inexplicable things happen in life. One caveman rounds a corner and is eaten by a sabretooth tiger. Another rounds a different corner and finds a wild pig (or whatever its equivalent was a million years ago) trapped in a quagmire, so he kills it and brings it home for dinner. Was one just luckier than the other? Or was there a “god” responsible?

Every day the sun comes up and goes down, as does the moon. Is there a “god” making it happen? Or… wait a minute – maybe those big round things in the sky really are gods. Someone (I’m too lazy to look up the quotation) said “If God didn’t exist we would have to invent Him.” I think there’s a very good case for just that happening. How else could we explain all the eccentricities of the world?

Of course back in those days (when god was invented) they didn’t have the same problems we have now. The gods themselves were eccentric, sometimes charitable, sometimes malevolent, often quirky, just like life itself. Today it’s more difficult, because god is supposed to be more dependable – a loving, caring, much more predictable god.

Which means we have to compensate somehow. With the devil, with good and bad luck, whatever. After all, how could a loving, compassionate god let “bad things happen to good people?” Or, for that matter, good things happen to bad people.

Here’s the thing. All through the existence of man there have been really, really good reasons for people to believe in the existence of God.

• It explained all those things we can’t explain any other way.
• It gave us a power outside ourselves (We are weak, but He is strong).
• It provided an excuse for many of our actions.
• With the invention of heaven, or the happy hunting ground, or nirvana, or whatever, it gave us something to look forward to after we’d slaved our lives away on this mortal coil. In other words, it gave us hope when there was none.
• It gave us a moral code, and a reason to follow it. “Do what God tells you to do, or you’ll go to hell.”
• Then, with the introduction of Jesus, it gave us the example of a perfect being after whom we could try to pattern our lives.

…is He omniscient?

Does He know everything there is to know? About everything? Past, present and future? I’m sorry, Sister Ruth; I don’t remember my catechism very well. But I seem to recall things like “God always has been, is now, and ever shall be,” and “God is all powerful,” “God is all knowing,” and so forth.

I guess that kind of statement doesn’t bother you if you don’t think about it too deeply, or if you’ve taken the leap of faith. Of course if you’ve taken that leap, you can accept anything. I’m not criticizing, or trying to put anyone down – just stating an obvious fact. Which means we can dismiss as biased all books written about religion by those who believe. “The Case for Christ” is a pertinent example. I started it as part of the “what do I believe” process and quickly found the author relying on circular logic. If you’re preaching to the choir you can say just about anything and they’ll sing “amen.”

So how do the concepts of “free will” and an “omniscient, all-powerful God” mesh? Certainly can’t figure it out myself, but as I said, I’m no theologian – or philosopher, for that matter. If I have free will, I can do what I want, but God already knows what I’m going to do. Hmmm. Well, it’s not a big problem for me; let the pedants hack that one out. I’m much more interested in the “is now, always was, and always will be” part.

I seem to remember my catechism saying we were made in the image and likeness of God, and that we were put here to love, honor and obey Him. I also remember the feeling, if not the words, that God needed something to love Him, so he made a bunch of inferior beings and sat around hoping they’d love, honor and obey Him. Not much of a God for a kid to have faith in.

…is there some of Him in everyone?

Certainly, as we said a little while ago, the concept of a “good” God, and Heaven, and so on, was extraordinarily constructive, because it gave us a reason to behave ourselves. But nowadays, since we’re relying more and more on our “consciences,” we’ve kind of kicked God out the window. “Act according to your conscience” is a pretty dangerous mantra, letting Hitler, and Attila the Hun, Stalin, Mao, and just about everyone else into the good guy fold.

A few more questions to ponder in the future

• Why would he want to have a son
• Why would he care about us
• Is he all-powerful
• Does he know what we’re thinking
• Can he make us do things
• Can he talk to us
• Can we talk to him
• Is he a god of earth or of the universe
• Why would he want a bunch of human ants with him in heaven
• Is there a heaven
• Is there a hell
• Why would he require me to believe in him
• Why would he require me to believe in his son
• Why would he let his son be crucified
• Why would he help one person against another
• Would he require us to go to church
• Is he bible really talking about god, or about what we should do to be healthy people
• Why would he destroy the world
• Why would he let awful things happen
• Is he so petty that he gives us free will, then sends us to hell when we use it
• Is he just our desire to be immortal

All pretty good questions, for more understanding, for curiosity’s sake, for your next Bible discussion group, for theologians to stroke their beards and ponder. Too deep for me, but I figure as we go along I’ll tackle one or two of them. Over to you.

I’m exhausted from reading all the reasons the atheists (humanists) have for not believing in God, and all the reasons the theists have for believing in one. None of it makes any sense, of course. The atheists say there’s no proof. “By golly, I’m not going to believe in any dratted thing I can’t feel, touch, see, or have scientific evidence of.” Bad grammar, I know, but that’s the way they are. The theists say you’ve got all the proof you need — the perfect earth, the oceans, the human brain, the fact that you can feel God calling you, whatever.” But there’s only one answer, and that’s faith. Which covers a heck of a lot of ground.

Is the big bang theory proven beyond a doubt? If so, why do they still call it a theory? Where’s the proof of the string theory? Where’s the real proof of evolution? The problem is, much of what we “know” today we take on faith. Faith founded on the belief that our science is exact and complete, perhaps, but faith nevertheless. Of course, the theists really don’t have anything that comes close to evidence of God’s existence, so they’re behind the 8-ball right from the git-go.

We all grow up one way or another, believing in God or not. Many, many, many of us believe in God in our youth, then, when we get smart as teenagers and up, we reject that belief, usually as a kind of backlash against some kind of religion, religious practice, or religious authority or morality. Then, ‘way down the road somewhere, many of us turn back to the belief of our youth. Is that any proof that God exists? Of course not.

One of the great things about living in America is the luxury of doubting. I can put up a sign that says God doesn’t exist, and receive no ill effects other than theists scolding me. If I put that same sign up in, let’s say, Iran, I might have a more serious problem. The point is, Iranians and many other people are brought up in a society that literally does not allow disbelief, on pain of death in some extreme cases. Ask an American teenager if he/she believes in God and you might get a philosophical discussion. Ask an Iranian teenager the same question and you might get reported to the secret police.

So who’s to say who or what God is, really? Can the world be, in effect, the physical manifestation of God? That might be what quantum physics is trying to teach us. Bohr’s experiments on the existence of quarks and their relationship to each other recalls a few phrases in my ancient catechism — God is everywhere, always has been, always, will be, etc., etc. Which of course would mean that we ourselves are God, as well as everyone and everything else.

Wow, that’s a mystery. Gotta go. I’ll get back to this later.

While we’re at it, sort of, let’s talk about all the Jesus Christ theories, who and what Christ was, and where He came from.

1. Jesus was an alien. (Aside from just being from Galilee, that is.) Extraterrestrials came down from their ship, gave Mary a whiff of something that kept her asleep during the procedure, and impregnated her, then went back to the ship. Maybe came back down a while later and told her she was pregnant, and what to name the baby.
2. Jesus was the actual son of God. Thinking he may have been a little too hard for too long on his creations, God decided to send His son to earth for 33 years, to relieve mankind of its original sin, show the world that God is good and all powerful, and explain that all earthlings are in fact children of God, with unbounded powers. And then be tortured, crucified, and killed only to arise from the dead and ascend into heaven, with a few return visits to pump up the apostles.
3. Jesus was just a guy. A pretty terrific guy, to be sure, and a moral philosopher of some note, but just a guy. However, he caused such a stir with his words and works that he was blown into someone with super powers – perhaps an actual descendant of God – by his followers.
4. There actually was no Jesus, or if there was, he had nothing to do with the founding of Christianity. (Not kidding. That’s an actual theory called “The Christ Myth.”)
5. If there was a Jesus, he was just an amalgam of dozens of pagan gods whose supposed birth, works, and existence were the basis for Jesus’ life and times. Birthdate, resurrection, ascent into heaven, etc., etc.
6. Jesus was really Jesus, but he was not a true prophet, because some of the events he prophesized didn’t come true. If he wasn’t a true prophet, then he certainly wasn’t the son of God, who would be expected to know all these things. After all, the way you can tell whether a prophet is a true prophet or not is by whether or not his prophecies come true. (Duh)

Scientists, of course, deny the existence of Jesus, and God, and just about everything else in the bible, because there’s no real proof of their existence or their works (aside from the creation of the world, but that’s definitely not proof for the science guys.) In fact, the belief in God is simply a way of closing the door to further research in any area. If the answer is “God did it,” why look any farther?

Except, of course, the scientific world that created phlogiston, and the luminiferous ether, now firmly uses dark matter, and string theory, and parallel universes to explain the mysteries of the universe. Except, of course, there’s no real proof that those things exist. They simply have faith that it does. And faith, as we know, is belief in things unseen.

All that said, I have a completely new and original explanation (at least as far as I know) for His existence, one that will undoubtedly be reviled by just about everyone – religionists and scientists alike – because it has nothing to do with religion, and because scientists won’t even consider the possibility of it being true (oh ye of little faith.)

Let’s start at the beginning, with the biblical description of the creation of the world. Note I didn’t say simply “the creation of the world.” I said “the biblical description.” Is that actually the way the world was created? I have no idea. Nor does anyone else.

To me, the bible is a long, wonderful collection of parables and life lessons that you can appreciate whether or not you believe in the existence of God.

So how did the creation of the world happen according to the bible?

God brought it into being.

The bible says: “And God saith, ‘Let light be,’ and light is.”

Is that an accurate description? I don’t think so. Why would he say it, if there was no one to talk to? According to Genesis, “the earth hath existed waste and void, and darkness is on the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God fluttering on the face of the waters.” In other words, God is all alone in the chaos of the world.

So forgive me, Moses and the many biblical scholars who have missed this simple fact, but God did not say “Let there be light.” He thought it.

In fact, He did not say anything; He thought everything.

According to Ellicot’s commentaries: “And God said: Voice and sound there could be none, nor was there any person to whom God addressed this word of power. The phrase, then, is metaphorical.” And as Benson says in his commentaries: “God said: Not by an articulate voice; for to whom should he speak? but in his own eternal mind. He willed that the effect here mentioned should be produced, and it was produced.”

Exactly. But it goes a step further. He began to bring order out of chaos not by thinking it, or by willing it, but by having faith that his thoughts would be made reality. No, the bible doesn’t read that way, primarily because “said” would have made a lot more sense to the originators and keepers of the old testament.

God thought it, and believed it would happen. No. To correct myself again, He knew it would happen. Think about it this way: you’re on a cliff a thousand feet above the ground. It’s pitch dark. You believe there is a set of stairs in front of you that leads to the bottom. Would you step off the cliff? Probably not. But if you know there is a set of stairs in front of you, no problem.

But how can you know something if you can’t touch it or see it or smell it? You must believe so completely that your belief becomes knowledge. You can believe there is a God, or you can know there is a God. You can believe God will deliver your enemies into your hands, or you can know it. You can believe you can kill a giant with a slingshot, or you can know it. You can believe there is a child in your womb, or you can know it.

So the truer interpretation of Genesis is that faith, which is defined as “belief in things unseen,” was responsible for the creation of the universe, and of everything in it. Only in God’s case it was the knowledge of things unseen. In other words, He knew these things, and by that knowledge brought them into existence.

Note I’m not trying to make you believe in Genesis, or the bible, but simply laying some foundation for what is basically a total reinterpretation of the events described in the bible, and of Jesus himself.

Consider all the miracles, and other improbable things that happen in the old testament. Whether or not they actually happened is irrelevant. How they happened is what’s important.

• Joshua and the destruction of Jericho.
• The many times the people of Israel defeated much larger forces.
• David and Goliath.
• The seven plagues of Egypt.
• The parting of the Red Sea.
• Manna in the wilderness.
• Daniel in the lion’s den.
• Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
• And many others.

The thread that ties them all together? Faith. But not just the belief that God will make it happen: the knowledge that God will make it happen. Is it possible their faith was so strong that it affected reality? Quantum theory says that’s a distinct possibility.

Wait. What? Yup. Here’s a crash course on the subject.

According to quantum theory:

1. The world is made of some kind of weird stuff we know practically nothing about, except it defies all existing laws for “stuff.” (Remember the luminiferous ether?”)
2. This “stuff” acts like it’s alive. Wow! But wait. It gets better.
3. This stuff the world is made of is constantly aware of what is happening in and to all of its parts. When something happens to some of this stuff, all of this stuff knows about it instantly, even though part of this stuff is the planet Mars, or Jupiter, and some is the planet Earth. Wait a minute, you say, along with everyone else who’s heard about this. That means this knowledge has to travel faster than the speed of light. Just one of those niggling problems scientists run into from time to time when trying to explain how the universe works.
4. But wait, there’s more. This stuff doesn’t just know what’s happening to its parts. Whatever happens to some of this stuff affects all of it at once. If one tiny part changes, all of it changes in a corresponding way.
5. But here’s the best part. This stuff is influenced by our thoughts, our expectations, even by our very presence.
6. When we measure it, it changes itself to fit our expectations.
7. In other words, this “stuff” relies on our expectations for its shape, or form.

Let’s say that again. This “stuff” the whole world is made of shapes itself according to our expectations.

To put it another way, our thoughts shape the universe.

It may sound dumb, and it may sound like science fiction, but it’s proven, validated, dependable, verifiable, indisputable, scientific fact. Does that mean I can say to that mountain over there “be moved,” and it will be? Well, Jesus said I could, and you could, and anyone else could who had a sufficient amount of faith – not because of how good or holy we are, but of how strong our belief is. In other words, if we can get from belief to knowledge.

Now about the new testament.

There were hundreds of prophesies described in the bible pertaining to the coming of Christ. Hundreds of prophesies that were believed by thousands of Jews.

Here’s the proposition.

Could all those prophesies, and all that sincere belief, actually have brought Jesus into existence? Remember, faith was much different then from what it is today. It was much more intense, and was founded on very detailed prophesies such as:

• The Messiah would be born of woman
• He would be born in Bethlehem
• He would be born of a virgin
• He would come from the line of Abraham
• He would spend a season in Egypt
• A massacre would happen at His birthplace
• He would be called a Nazarene
• He would be betrayed.
• His hands and feet would be pierced.
• He would be resurrected and ascend into heaven.
• And many, many others.

Could it be that these prophesies were so profuse, and so detailed, and so intensely believed, that they actually brought Jesus into existence? Quantum theory suggests that possibility. If so, it’s obvious he could have formed in a virgin womb, because he was not brought into the world in the normal way – by the reproductive act between a man and a woman – but as the result of thousands of people believing that his appearance was inevitable.

If that is true – if Jesus was the living result of a people’s faith – he would not have been bound by the laws that bind ordinary mortals. If he was subject to those laws he could not have, for example, survived 40 days and 40 nights without food or water. How did he do that? And how did he accomplish all the other miracles in the new testament?

By faith. In every case, he pronounced the miracle in advance of it happening. The water into wine, the healings, the centurion’s child, Lazarus, all happened as he said they would, because he had utter faith that they would. In fact, He knew that they would, because he was the manifestation of prophesy.

The key phrase that proves this theory?

“And the word was made flesh.”

Not “God sent His only son to walk among us.” Even though in a sense that’s what actually happened. But that requires a definition of God.

So here we go.

Is God an old white-haired old man who created everything and watches over us?

I think not.

Do I know what God is? Of course not. Do I think I’m smarter than all the thousands of minds that have tried to define God over the years? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I know what God is. However, who or what he is isn’t relevant to this version of reality, because God doesn’t decide whether or not you get what you want.

That’s up to you.

Okay, it’s actually not God’s problem; it’s ours. But first, a little background. Since the beginning of their history, as far as I know, Jews have been cautioned not to speak the name of God. Why? Maimonides, the great Jewish codifier, says “Our caution is founded on an understanding of the third of the Ten Commandments, ‘You shall not take His name in vain.’ Although this verse is classically interpreted as referring to a senseless oath using God’s name, the avoidance of saying God’s name extends to all expressions, except prayer and Torah study.

I’m light years away from being a Jewish scholar, but I say “twaddle” to that explanation. Not that he isn’t being sincere; he just doesn’t understand the interdiction. Here’s the real deal. At or before the beginning of their history, some really, really smart person (maybe God) made the rule because he/she/it knew what the result would be. And he/she/it was right.

If you read my Genesis, part one, you may be able to guess where I’m going with this. As I said back then, by “eating” the fruit of the forbidden tree, Adam and Eve brought mortality into their souls. Not just the fact of death, but a completely new perspective – that reality was only what you could touch and feel: the “reality” that keeps us from believing in God and that we are God’s creations, and therefore godlike ourselves.

The only “sin” they committed (except for the obvious disobedience and lack of gratitude) was that they were henceforth barred from full exercise of their spiritual powers. The stuff about sweat of their brow, labor, dust to dust, etc., wasn’t punishment; it was simple fact. God obviously knew that by diminution or complete absence of their godly powers, Adam and Eve and all their descendants were going to have a tough time in the world.

In other words, god made Adam and Eve in His image, and then Adam and Eve returned the favor, re-creating God in their own image, humanizing him. Thereby losing their immortality and other God-like qualities. By removing them from God, they removed them from themselves.

If you’re following along, you can make the next jump. Giving God a name is the first step in humanizing Him. From there it’s not a big jump to give God a gender. Or to start thinking of God as an old white-haired Caucasian, and putting him/her/it in the same category as the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. Which gives militant atheists like Bill Maher and others a perfect way to ridicule anyone who believes.

The thing is, we have no idea what God is. I know, I should stop calling him/her/it God, because that word has so many problematic associations. As I’ve said before, we’ve humanized God since the beginning. “God walked in the garden.” Really? “Among all the trees in the Garden of Eden, God identified two special trees: of life, and of the knowledge of good and evil.” Please.

Here’s what happened: Somehow the universe was created, and earth was formed, and life happened, and eventually man appeared. Those are the facts. How did that happen? No one knows. Scientists talk about the big bang, and string theory, and all kinds of other explanations. Theists talk about God creating everything. As far as I’m concerned, everyone can have their theories, even evolution, because none of them rules out the possibility of “god.”

The bible, to me, is a big book filled with anecdotes and parables that try to show us how to live. Is it all the word of God? No. Is it divinely inspired? Much of it, I believe, is. But how do we define that divinity?

Who or what that inspiring deity is I have no clue. What I do believe is, whether it was inspired or not, it was filtered through human boundaries and concepts. Did angels come down, move among us, and talk to people? Did God appear to Moses as a talking, burning bush? Don’t know, but it certainly makes a good story.

How could the stories in the bible have been told, and had meaning, if “God” was a vapor of some kind? A life force, like “The Force” in Star Wars? Wouldn’t have worked. Never really has worked. Not for any “religions” I know of. From the cave men who might have worshiped the moon, or a polar bear, to the Egyptians, Romans, and up to present day. All had some sort of physical representation of their god or gods, mostly human. With all the human characteristics, good and bad. Like the God in the bible.

The point is, if there is a point in this rambling discussion, that you can believe in God without calling him by name, and without anthropomorphizing him/her/it. God, to me, is more and more the stuff the universe is made of, and that made the universe. A constructive intelligence of some kind that is accessible to us, and that cares about us in both an individual and cosmic way.

Without getting into whether he was the son of God, etc., etc., (we’ll get into that later) I believe that’s what Jesus was trying to tell us. I do believe he existed, and that he did some wonderful things. Are the miracles accurate, or are they exaggerations used by the storytellers to impress on us his godliness? Don’t know. His message, however, is clear. We can all be in touch with God/The Force/cosmic intelligence/etc. But first we must believe that’s a possibility. Must surrender our worldliness and, as Jesus said, be born again with the faith of a child.

I’m not talking religion in the usual sense. But I still pray in the usual way, except for the new version of the Lord’s prayer I wrote a while ago. I’ll share that with you when I think you’re ready for it.

If you’ve followed along, you know (or more likely already knew) that it isn’t the quantity or quality of the sacrifice that counts; it’s the spirit in which it is given. There’s a little “give till it hurts” in there, but that really means “give something you value.” Pretty obvious. Hey, I’ll just give my trash instead of letting the city pick it up. Not a sacrifice. Not a proper “offering.”

So what is all this sacrifice stuff that starts in Genesis 31:54? Does God really require sacrifice? If so, why? And why all the focus on burnt animal flesh? I can understand the “burning” part: the animal turns into smoke, which rises to the heavens, eventually reaching God. Or at least that’s the way the sacrificers might have imagined it was happening. Pretty pagan, really.

Anyway, it’s pretty commonplace. I can’t count the numbers of times it appears in the old testament. And speaking of Numbers, how about: “…ye shall offer a burnt offering, a sacrifice made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the Lord: one bullock, one ram, seven lambs of the first year without blemish.” Wow. That probably would have hurt.

So frequently the quality and quantity of the offering is proscribed. And when that happens, it’s usually designed to affect the offer-or’s heart through his or her pocketbook. “Seven lambs of the first year without blemish.” In other words, the best you’ve got, and a lot of it. What’s happening here is the big shots have missed the point. When they tell someone they have to pony up bigtime, they’re trying to test their faith by making the offering hurt big time.  Obviously missing the point.

A sacrifice isn’t a sacrifice unless it hurts. Or it wouldn’t be called a sacrifice, which at least in one definition, is: “the surrender or destruction of something prized or desirable for the sake of something considered as having a higher or more pressing claim.” Of course that definition totally obscures the “why.” For example, I might “sacrifice” a thousand dollars in the hope of hitting the lottery. I might “sacrifice” smoking cigarettes in the hope of living longer. Both of which I’m doing for my sake, not someone or something else’s. So sacrifice really isn’t the right word to describe what the Bible is trying to tell us, in its archaic, clumsy way.

Which is: the only sacrifice that counts is one done out of love. Not out of respect or fear, which appear in most of the biblical sacrifices to be the primary motivating forces, but out of love. Of course there’s always a “me” component in any kind of sacrifice. There used to be a campaign slogan (maybe for United Way, don’t remember) that ordered you to “Give till it hurts.” That’s the biblical sacrifice. It was later modified to “Give till it helps.” Which takes it in an entirely different direction. Then another one popped up: “Give till it feels good.” Which is a lot closer to what the Bible was actually trying to tell us.

The truth is everyone’s life is fraught with “sacrifice.” I can’t find the reference, but I remember a quote from a sultan who long, long ago was king of everything he surveyed – basically ruler of his part of the world. It went something like “For lo these past 30 years I have had every pleasure the world could afford – treasure, women, dominion over my enemies. I have counted the days I have been happy and they number seven.”

Obviously that sultan’s life was filled with sacrifice. Like, maybe, having to wear rubies instead of diamonds. Not quite the same as giving a kidney to your daughter, but a “sacrifice” nevertheless.

What the Bible is actually telling us is to “sacrifice” ourselves in order to become all that we can be. This is obviously made much more clear in the New Testament, with the penultimate sacrifice of Jesus dying on the cross to atone for our sin.

It’s also made clear in His statement: “Ye must be born again.” Think about what that truly means. Here’s a hint: it’s like wiping your hard drive. Becoming an empty vessel so you can be filled with the holy spirit.

No, that doesn’t mean retrograde amnesia. It means letting go of the beliefs, and prejudices, and anything else that will interfere with the process. “Come as a child.” Make the sacrifice of yourself so you can become much more. That’s way too big a step for a lot of people. Especially those, like Bill Maher, who believe only in those things they can see, feel, hear, touch, smell, or deduce, so they demonize and make fun of those who make that leap of faith. It’s a paradox, you probably already noticed.

Before you can believe in God you kind of have to believe in God.

I’m not getting into the “word of God/allegory/fairy tale/divine inspiration” controversy; not my purview. The point is not what and how something was put into the Bible; the point is what you get out of it, and quite possibly what you were meant to get out of it. I believe it’s possible that the entire Bible has one goal: to tell us we must re-connect with a higher power.

In the old days (i.e., old testament) we have God as a real being who walks around and talks to people. Then in the new testament He disappears and we never see Him again (at least there are no documented accounts of His appearance that I find compelling.) So where did He go?

Well, quite obviously He went inside us. Except, of course, He was already there. But as I’ve said before in these posts, He needed to be visible in the early days to establish His presence as a reality and to give His chosen people (Moses, Joshua, etc., etc.) credibility.

But I digress. Let’s get to Cain and Abel. Everything seems to have been going along peachily until it’s time for the brothers to bring God an offering. Abel brings some of the firstborn of his flock; Cain brings some of his harvest. God checks out both offerings and decides Abel’s is acceptable, and Cain’s is not. Setting aside the obvious possibility that God doesn’t like tomatoes, or that He’s a capricious narcissist, why did He not find Cain’s offering as acceptable as Abel’s?

That seems to be another mystery no one can solve, because the Bible really doesn’t give us any clues. Note this is an “offering.” The word “zabach,” which means “to slaughter, kill, sacrifice, slaughter for sacrifice,” evidently doesn’t appear until Genesis 31:54, when Jacob offers “sacrifice upon the mount.” This “offering/sacrifice” seems to be pleasing to God, because Jacob isn’t struck by lightning as a result, and God doesn’t appear to him and tell him it’s unacceptable.

You might draw the conclusion that God’s a committed carnivore; that Abel’s “offering” gave him a taste for meat, which I personally find quite reasonable considering my limited appreciation of vegetables. (I’ll take bacon over zucchini any day.) And I see a seed of truth in it, because as far as I can tell, nowhere else in the Bible does anyone try to offer God a salad. From Abel on, it’s meat, meat, meat — even if that meat comes from your own son.

Oh, wait a minute. Just spitballing, here, but was Abel’s offering more pleasing to God because it was more of a sacrifice in the more modern sense? In other words, was it harder for Abel to part with some of his firstborn baby lambs than for Cain to come up with a basket of corn? That must be undeniably true.

So here we come to the point. Perhaps God liked Abel’s “offering” more because it meant more to Abel, not to God. Of course we can’t see into Cain’s heart the way God could, but it does make sense that we get more attached to a sentient being than to a carrot, no matter how tenderly we might have nursed it from seed to stalk.

This runs all the way through the Bible, as we know, even into the New Testament, where Jesus applauds the widow lady who gives her “two mites” while the rich men “cast their gifts into the treasury.” And Jesus says “this poor widow hath cast in more than they all… for she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had.” She gave all she had, which the rich guys just threw something in from their wealth. Which meant more?

So obviously it’s not the size of the thing offered, or the type, or the quality, or the quantity; it’s the spirit in which it is given, and the degree of difficulty the giver has in parting with it. Remember Abraham?

So Abel brought something that he loved, and had nurtured, and was loath to part with, and Cain brought some really nice groceries. And God looked into Abel’s heart, and into Cain’s heart, and it was no contest.

Now, you can argue that it wasn’t really Cain’s fault. That he just wasn’t the kind of guy who understood what was really at stake. Of course we also don’t know what the rules were — what God had told them to do when “the appointed time” came. Or why there was an appointed time. Or what the occasion was.

So maybe God didn’t explain it properly to Cain, or maybe Cain wasn’t paying attention. Or maybe Abel was just a more sensitive person. Or maybe — and this has the ring of truth to it — he simply loved God more. Thought of Him more as a father than as a boss. Maybe Cain’s response was “Uh-oh. It’s the appointed time. I’ll get a basket of fruit together.” While Abel’s was “What is the most wonderful thing I can offer? Which of my possessions do I treasure the most?” Like my wife would have, Abel had probably been fretting about “the appointed time” for years, wondering what he could offer that would please Him most.

There’s no mystery to what happened next; it’s happening with appalling frequency today. A guy gets fired, finds a gun, goes back to the office and kills the guy who fired him, plus a bunch of other people — particularly, if he can find him or her, the person who took his place. Cain’s feelings are hurt, he gets jealous, flies into a rage, and kills Abel, primarily because he doesn’t see himself as the real source of his anger, and he can’t kill God.

And now you know… the rest of the story.