In Ezekiel by Melvin Jules Bukiet, the protagonist has lost everything - his job, his wife, his purpose - and he finds himself in Central Park where he gets a job running the carousel. He is ever listening, waiting to hear the Voice. All of a sudden he imagines the carousel animals coming to life, and as he is watching this, he spouts excerpts from Ezekiel. You know, the warnings about all the punishments God is going to bestow upon Israel. Then he comes to a realization:
I find a few flaws with this passage. Firstly, mortality is the result of sin, is it not? So God didn't necessarily create mortality to be a part of the humanity package. I also find it a little much to say that God kills us, when according to traditional belief, when we die it is the best thing that could ever happen to us. Or maybe "He's killed us" during life with all the suffering and all the punishments. I'm not sure what Bukiet meant.
And that's when I realize that I'm not voicing a warning, or rather it's not the warning I thought. I'm not warning them for God; I'm warning them of God. Why? Because we haven't violated the covenant; God has, unilaterally. Because mortality is the first sin against creation. Because all sacrifice is human sacrifice. Because He loves cataclysm, calamity, and catastrophe, performed to the ecstatic tune of the calliope.
A little death here, we can take, make our peace with, but He went too far. And the stronger, more fervent our faith, the worse our loss. The mistake we've made for as long as He's killed us is that belief does not entail the necessary corollary of worship. If I wander into Fifth Avenue traffic and get run over by a bus, that does not mean that I should hobble to my knees and pray to the bus.
Last night Fellow Seeker had a discussion about faith with his mother and sister. He made use of his newfound feminism and told them that it's not right that even the animals were created before Eve. What does that say about the worth of women? (I hadn't even thought of that. My, he's smart.) He made a few other comments and they said to him, "You're not supposed to question God." Ah, the great silencer of ages past. That's one thing he absolutely disagrees with. He even wrote in his blog that you are "doing a great work for both yourself, God and society, by doubting." I think that he's right. If God didn't want us to question Him, we would not have been created with the ability to do so. That ability was not a result of the Fall because without it, the Fall would never have happened. What was Eve's action of eating the apple if not questioning God's omniscience?
Also, today I happened to sit down while Sister was watching an episode of South Park. Many religious people find the show extremely offensive, and I am quoting something from it, so if you would rather not, don't read the rest of this post. I only caught the second half or so, but I gathered that the kids had formed a boy band. Cartman said that God wanted him to. They were supposed to perform at the mall but Stan was late for the performance and the mall security guard was telling them that they could not perform unless they did it right away. Cartman said something along the lines of, "Oh well, I guess my dream is dead. [Looking up] I guess you got me again, God... you sick bastard." Then Stan appeared and Cartman yelled, "Yes! Praises!" I found that to be very telling. I told Sister, "I think everyone feels that way at one point or another, they just don't say it." Don't we? Don't we, at least once in our lives, feel that God is doing things to us on purpose? For amusement, or punishment, or whatever reason He may have. Is it that we're fickle creatures, like Cartman, or is it simply that we are truly unsure of His purposes and motivations, regardless of what the Bible tells us?