Pete Seeger, who died last week, speaks to one of the tensions that exists in this congregation: the tension around "God" language. Here's a longer piece from Pete than what I mentioned in last Sunday's sermon:
When Thoreau at age 44 was about to die from tuberculosis, his aunt said, “Henry, have you made your peace with God?” He replied, “(cough) I didn't know we had ever quarreled.”
Well I, at age 74, finally decided I have made my peace with at least the word “God.” Most of my youth, thinking religion was the opiate of the people, I disliked using the word. But I found, like many other European-Americans, that I truly loved the religious songs of African-Americans. It was as though I rediscovered my own humanity through them. I knew Mahalia Jackson. She sang, “I've seen God; I've seen the sun rise.” I'm with you, Mahalia. I feel my heart lift every time I see the sun rise. Or the moon. Really, every time I see anything I feel I see God. Now this will no doubt offend some. They'd say, “You see the handiwork of God.” But I think if I looked on the screen of an electron microscope and saw some molecule only one millionth of an inch in size, I see God. And I believe God is infinite, so compared to something infinitely small, that molecule is infinitely large. And if I looked at the screens of one of the big radar telescopes that my older brother, Charles, helped design, and saw a galaxy of stars five billion light years distant, I believe I'd be seeing God. And compared to something infinitely large, those five billion light years are an infinitely short distance. How lucky we are to be so spaced out.
[Pete Seeger. Where Have All the Flowers Gone? A Singer's Stories, Songs, Seeds, Robberies. Sing Out, 1993. page 174]
How lucky we are to have a space where we can share and learn from different theologies!
Blessings,
Rev. Joe
Well I, at age 74, finally decided I have made my peace with at least the word “God.” Most of my youth, thinking religion was the opiate of the people, I disliked using the word. But I found, like many other European-Americans, that I truly loved the religious songs of African-Americans. It was as though I rediscovered my own humanity through them. I knew Mahalia Jackson. She sang, “I've seen God; I've seen the sun rise.” I'm with you, Mahalia. I feel my heart lift every time I see the sun rise. Or the moon. Really, every time I see anything I feel I see God. Now this will no doubt offend some. They'd say, “You see the handiwork of God.” But I think if I looked on the screen of an electron microscope and saw some molecule only one millionth of an inch in size, I see God. And I believe God is infinite, so compared to something infinitely small, that molecule is infinitely large. And if I looked at the screens of one of the big radar telescopes that my older brother, Charles, helped design, and saw a galaxy of stars five billion light years distant, I believe I'd be seeing God. And compared to something infinitely large, those five billion light years are an infinitely short distance. How lucky we are to be so spaced out.
[Pete Seeger. Where Have All the Flowers Gone? A Singer's Stories, Songs, Seeds, Robberies. Sing Out, 1993. page 174]
How lucky we are to have a space where we can share and learn from different theologies!
Blessings,
Rev. Joe