The Word in Focus with Dr Larry Taylor

Language is never static. Conversely, it evolves, develops, and takes on varying nuances and meanings. 

Cases in point: The Hebrew scriptures were written over a long period of history from nomadic tribal conflicts through vast powerful empires. The Christian scriptures were written during the dominance of the Roman Empire with its despotic emperors and brutal military. Most early followers of Jesus were poor, lower-class, or enslaved. 

As a result, the Bible refers to God as Father, Lord, Master, King of Kings, Lord of lords, God above all other gods. It implies omnipotence. On the human side, we are instructed to surrender, submit, obey.

All fine and good unless you happen to be, for example, an adult survivor of abuse, or someone who had a parent (especially a father or father figure) who was harsh, cruel, demanding, or filled with rage. For such a person, speaking of God as “Father” strikes terror. Divine demands to submit and obey feel abusive, controlling, manipulating. 

Similarly, if you are a descendant of humans chained and whipped in chattel slavery, later manumitted only to face lynchings and cruel disenfranchisement, then the household codes in the New Testament epistles feel like going back into chains. So much so that some African Americans have abandoned Christianity as a white man’s religion designed to keep them in their place. “Master” stirs images of Simon Legree. 

When we speak of “serving” God or “being used” by God, the former sounds like slavery; the latter feels like abuse – someone bigger and stronger using me for their own pleasure.

If we were raised to believe that God causes and controls everything, we are in danger of being crushed by theodicy. Why is their evil? Why are these bad things happening to me? If I’m sick or poor, does God hate me? Am I being judged? Is God a monster?

Similarly, for those who value liberal democratic ideals, talk of kings and lords not only sounds archaic, but it also sounds oppressive. Many, including most of the founders of the United States, relegated God to a distant watchmaker deity, choosing instead to punctuate the triumphs of the human mind. Religion became a thing of the superstitious middle ages. 

The problem lies not with the Bible, but with how we interpret the Bible. Sometimes, deconstructing superficial religiophilosophical faith systems means altering, not the central message, but the language around it. Rather than depict God as Master, King, or Father, perhaps depict God as the spirit of unconditional love. Rather than tremble at the thought of submitting or obeying an unpredictable, sometimes quite angry god, perhaps think instead of a love relationship, mutually fulfilling, mutually satisfying, mutually compassionate and humanizing.

Some of us have difficulty with biblical language because we don’t really know who God is and/or we don’t really know who we are. Some of us got the message (perhaps from church, or family, or culture) that God is strict, harsh, quick to judge, easily offended, and at times violent. Some of us got the message that we must perform to be accepted. The love on which we were weaned was a pan-scale, conditional love. If we have a church background, we may be quick to give the “right” answers to the questions about the true nature of God and ourselves. Religious training can inadvertently make things worse.

The old dilapidated theological and philosophical structures, with their false views of God and self, need to be demolished. That can be very painful. We may find ourselves condemned and ostracized by family, friends, and faith communities. We might even feel like we’re going insane. Our thoughts scare us: Is there a God? Who am I? Where do I fit in? What in the purpose of my life, if any?

Rest assured, you are not going insane. The old dilapidated religiophilosophical, semi-biblical structure needs to be demolished. But we don’t stay there. We explore, seek, discover, search, and gradually truth sets us freer and freer. We read widely, think deeply, listen to voices across cultures, religious traditions, and genders. We’re not gullible, but teachable.

The truth gradually emerges – the truth about who God really is – perfect, unconditional, everlasting, beautiful, warm, never coercive, gentle, kind, all-forgiving love; the truth about who you are – beloved child of God, image-bearer of the divine, adored and accepted, with unsurpassable worth. As that happens, “service” becomes absorbing divine love and watching as it naturally flows out to others. “Submission” becomes unity without hierarchy. God, we realize, is Perfect Love, always thinking thoughts of gentle kindness and tender love towards us. We are learning that we are neither superior nor inferior to anyone. 

It’s a process. Many of us who were influenced by evangelical Protestantism got the impression that conversion is a one-and-done event that occurs when we “give our hearts to Jesus.” Our walk with God may have started there in earnest, but the reality is conversatio morum – continuous conversion. It goes on throughout our lives as we increasingly discover the depths of the divine heart and the reality of who we are.