OK Kiddies, here's a little quiz for today.
Given the clues below guess what organization
we are describing. Could be the NFL, the NBA,
the CIA...
*****************************************************************
36 have been accused of spousal abuse
7 have been arrested for fraud
19 have been accused of writing bad checks
117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least2 businesses
3 have done time for assault
71, repeat 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
8 have been arrested for shoplifting
21 currently are defendants in lawsuits
84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year
Can you guess which organization this is?
Give up yet? . . . Scroll down, citizen!
It's the 535 members of the United States Congress.
Keep in mind they pass the laws...
I hope you sleep better tonight.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
WWJD
The Christian Right is Christian only insofar as it progresses their own agenda and monetary gain.
Presidential Hubris
The Palestinian state just had it's parliamentary elections. Lo and behold they elected mostly Hamas officials so far. If you live beneath a chunk of calcite, Hamas is the group in Palestine who is armed and violently opposed to the Israeli occupation.
Now the interesting thing is that our dear Mr. Bush had the balls to say that he wasn't going to recognize this group unless they disarmed themselves.
Hang on... This was a democratically elected group, elected by their own people... How again is the Us involved to the point where we can dole out an ultimatum? Weather they disarm or not is not even one little tiny bit of our concern! They are not a US principality, we have no jurisdiction over them.
How dare Bush think that he has the right to deliver this kind of message to a people he himself knows so very little about. (Did you actually WATCH his speech in Kansas? Not to mention that Kansas OVERWHELMINGLY voted for Bush, the questions all seemed to be pandering to his ego. Except for the one about the education budget being cut. Seemed to me that the guy didn't even RECALL that he had cut it by 12 billion. Acted like it was all news to him, asking for the question to be repeated... [click on Hearing Impaired]) The point is he's never seemed very informed about anything, ever, for any reason.
Here's the thing. Bush needs to stop talking out of his ass in regard to countries we have no invested interest in. Oh, well, I mean aside from pandering to the Jewish nation because his election depends on the millions of Jewish voters in America and the funds that the Israeli lobbyists are paying.
Now the interesting thing is that our dear Mr. Bush had the balls to say that he wasn't going to recognize this group unless they disarmed themselves.
Hang on... This was a democratically elected group, elected by their own people... How again is the Us involved to the point where we can dole out an ultimatum? Weather they disarm or not is not even one little tiny bit of our concern! They are not a US principality, we have no jurisdiction over them.
How dare Bush think that he has the right to deliver this kind of message to a people he himself knows so very little about. (Did you actually WATCH his speech in Kansas? Not to mention that Kansas OVERWHELMINGLY voted for Bush, the questions all seemed to be pandering to his ego. Except for the one about the education budget being cut. Seemed to me that the guy didn't even RECALL that he had cut it by 12 billion. Acted like it was all news to him, asking for the question to be repeated... [click on Hearing Impaired]) The point is he's never seemed very informed about anything, ever, for any reason.
Here's the thing. Bush needs to stop talking out of his ass in regard to countries we have no invested interest in. Oh, well, I mean aside from pandering to the Jewish nation because his election depends on the millions of Jewish voters in America and the funds that the Israeli lobbyists are paying.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Ol' Dubyah Vee
I like Homer. He's got a sound mind for the most part, and a really good look at the emotion of coal mining in WV. Basically wituout WV there would be no US as a world power. So you better all freaking know where it is on the MAP.
However the other big ugly devil to keep in mind in all this is that while the miners themselves are whimiscal and heartful of emotion and goodness the mine bosses, or the mine owners and companies are sometimes the worse form of demons ever known to walk this earth.
I put a picture of a strip mine in the article below. You want to talk about a deep sadness for the resources of our country? Look into that little gem of knoweledge that most people in the country are blissfully ignorant of. Nine times out of ten the mine owners and their companies couldn't care less about their workers. Which is to say in this era of big corporations, what else is new right?
Just keep in mind that the good people of West Virginia and other mining states put up with a lot of hell for not a whole lot of compensation in the form of saftey or kindness, just so we can turn on lights when it gets to dark and scary outside.
However the other big ugly devil to keep in mind in all this is that while the miners themselves are whimiscal and heartful of emotion and goodness the mine bosses, or the mine owners and companies are sometimes the worse form of demons ever known to walk this earth.
I put a picture of a strip mine in the article below. You want to talk about a deep sadness for the resources of our country? Look into that little gem of knoweledge that most people in the country are blissfully ignorant of. Nine times out of ten the mine owners and their companies couldn't care less about their workers. Which is to say in this era of big corporations, what else is new right?
Just keep in mind that the good people of West Virginia and other mining states put up with a lot of hell for not a whole lot of compensation in the form of saftey or kindness, just so we can turn on lights when it gets to dark and scary outside.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Sago Miners Memorial Remarks
by
Homer Hickam
January 15, 2006
"Families of the Sago miners, Governor Manchin, Mrs. Manchin, Senator Byrd, Senator Rockefeller, West Virginians, friends, neighbors, all who have come here today to remember those brave men who have gone on before us, who ventured into the darkness but instead showed us the light, a light that shines on all West Virginians and the nation today:
It is a great honor to be here. I am accompanied by three men I grew up with, the rocket boys of Coalwood: Roy Lee Cooke, Jimmie O'Dell Carroll, and Billy Rose. My wife Linda, an Alabama girl, is here with me as well.
As this tragedy unfolded, the national media kept asking me: Who are these men? And why are they coal miners? And what kind of men would still mine the deep coal?
One answer came early after the miners were recovered. It was revealed that, as his life dwindled, Martin Toler had written this: It wasn't bad. I just went to sleep. Tell all I'll see them on the other side. I love you.
In all the books I have written, I have never captured in so few words a message so powerful or eloquent: It wasn't bad. I just went to sleep. Tell all I'll see them on the other side. I love you.
I believe Mr. Toler was writing for all of the men who were with him that day. These were obviously not ordinary men.
But what made these men so extraordinary? And how did they become the men they were? Men of honor. Men you could trust. Men who practiced a dangerous profession. Men who dug coal from beneath a jealous mountain.
Part of the answer is where they lived. Look around you. This is a place where many lessons are learned, of true things that shape people as surely as rivers carve valleys, or rain melts mountains, or currents push apart the sea. Here, miners still walk with a trudging grace to and from vast, deep mines. And in the schools, the children still learn and the teachers teach, and, in snowy white churches built on hillside cuts, the preachers still preach, and God, who we have no doubt is also a West Virginian, still does his work, too. The people endure here as they always have for they understand that God has determined that there is no joy greater than hard work, and that there is no water holier than the sweat off a man's brow.
In such a place as this, a dozen men may die, but death can never destroy how they lived their lives, or why.
As I watched the events of this tragedy unfold, I kept being reminded of Coalwood, the mining town where I grew up. Back then, I thought life in that little town was pretty ordinary, even though nearly all the men who lived there worked in the mine and, all too often, some of them died or were hurt. My grandfather lost both his legs in the Coalwood mine and lived in pain until the day he died. My father lost the sight in an eye while trying to rescue trapped miners. After that he worked in the mine for fifteen more years. He died of black lung.
When I began to write my books about growing up in West Virginia, I was surprised to discover, upon reflection, that maybe it wasn't such an ordinary place at all. I realized that in a place where maybe everybody should be afraid—after all, every day the men went off to work in a deep, dark, and dangerous coal mine— instead they had adopted a philosophy of life that consisted of these basic attitudes:
We are proud of who we are. We stand up for what we believe. We keep our families together. We trust in God but rely on ourselves.
By adhering to these simple approaches to life, they became a people who were not afraid to do what had to be done, to mine the deep coal, and to do it with integrity and honor.
The first time my dad ever took me in the mine was when I was in high school. He wanted to show me where he worked, what he did for a living. I have to confess I was pretty impressed. But what I recall most of all was what he said to me while we were down there. He put his spot of light in my face and explained to me what mining meant to him. He said, "Every day, I ride the mantrip down the main line, get out and walk back into the gob and feel the air pressure on my face. I know the mine like I know a man, can sense things about it that aren't right even when everything on paper says it is. Every day there's something that needs to be done, because men will be hurt if it isn't done, or the coal the company's promised to load won't get loaded. Coal is the life blood of this country. If we fail, the country fails."
And then he said, "There's no men in the world like miners, Sonny. They're good men, strong men. The best there is. I think no matter what you do with your life, no matter where you go or who you know, you will never know such good and strong men."
Over time, though I would meet many famous people from astronauts to actors to Presidents, I came to realize my father was right. There are no better men than coal miners. And he was right about something else, too:
If coal fails, our country fails.
The American economy rests on the back of the coal miner. We could not prosper without him. God in His wisdom provided this country with an abundance of coal, and he also gave us the American coal miner who glories in his work. A television interviewer asked me to describe work in a coal mine and I called it "beautiful." He was astonished that I would say such a thing so I went on to explain that, yes, it's hard work but, when it all comes together, it's like watching and listening to a great symphony: the continuous mining machines, the shuttle cars, the roof bolters, the ventilation brattices, the conveyor belts, all in concert, all accomplishing their great task. Yes, it is a beautiful thing to see.
There is a beauty in anything well done, and that goes for a life well lived.
How and why these men died will be studied now and in the future. Many lessons will be learned. And many other miners will live because of what is learned. This is right and proper.
But how and why these men lived, that is perhaps the more important thing to be studied. We know this much for certain: They were men who loved their families. They were men who worked hard. They were men of integrity, and honor. And they were also men who laughed and knew how to tell a good story. Of course they could. They were West Virginians!
And so we come together on this day to recall these men, and to glory in their presence among us, if only for a little while. We also come in hope that this service will help the families with their great loss and to know the honor we wish to accord them.
No matter what else might be said or done concerning these events, let us forever be reminded of who these men really were and what they believed, and who their families are, and who West Virginians are, and what we believe, too.
There are those now in the world who would turn our nation into a land of fear and the frightened. It's laughable, really. How little they understand who we are, that we are still the home of the brave. They need look no further than right here in this state for proof.
For in this place, this old place, this ancient place, this glorious and beautiful and sometimes fearsome place of mountains and mines, there still lives a people like the miners of Sago and their families, people who yet believe in the old ways, the old virtues, the old truths; who still lift their heads from the darkness to the light, and say for the nation and all the world to hear:
We are proud of who we are.
We stand up for what we believe.
We keep our families together.
We trust in God.
We do what needs to be done.
We are not afraid"
Homer Hickam
January 15, 2006
"Families of the Sago miners, Governor Manchin, Mrs. Manchin, Senator Byrd, Senator Rockefeller, West Virginians, friends, neighbors, all who have come here today to remember those brave men who have gone on before us, who ventured into the darkness but instead showed us the light, a light that shines on all West Virginians and the nation today:
It is a great honor to be here. I am accompanied by three men I grew up with, the rocket boys of Coalwood: Roy Lee Cooke, Jimmie O'Dell Carroll, and Billy Rose. My wife Linda, an Alabama girl, is here with me as well.
As this tragedy unfolded, the national media kept asking me: Who are these men? And why are they coal miners? And what kind of men would still mine the deep coal?
One answer came early after the miners were recovered. It was revealed that, as his life dwindled, Martin Toler had written this: It wasn't bad. I just went to sleep. Tell all I'll see them on the other side. I love you.
In all the books I have written, I have never captured in so few words a message so powerful or eloquent: It wasn't bad. I just went to sleep. Tell all I'll see them on the other side. I love you.
I believe Mr. Toler was writing for all of the men who were with him that day. These were obviously not ordinary men.
But what made these men so extraordinary? And how did they become the men they were? Men of honor. Men you could trust. Men who practiced a dangerous profession. Men who dug coal from beneath a jealous mountain.
Part of the answer is where they lived. Look around you. This is a place where many lessons are learned, of true things that shape people as surely as rivers carve valleys, or rain melts mountains, or currents push apart the sea. Here, miners still walk with a trudging grace to and from vast, deep mines. And in the schools, the children still learn and the teachers teach, and, in snowy white churches built on hillside cuts, the preachers still preach, and God, who we have no doubt is also a West Virginian, still does his work, too. The people endure here as they always have for they understand that God has determined that there is no joy greater than hard work, and that there is no water holier than the sweat off a man's brow.
In such a place as this, a dozen men may die, but death can never destroy how they lived their lives, or why.
As I watched the events of this tragedy unfold, I kept being reminded of Coalwood, the mining town where I grew up. Back then, I thought life in that little town was pretty ordinary, even though nearly all the men who lived there worked in the mine and, all too often, some of them died or were hurt. My grandfather lost both his legs in the Coalwood mine and lived in pain until the day he died. My father lost the sight in an eye while trying to rescue trapped miners. After that he worked in the mine for fifteen more years. He died of black lung.
When I began to write my books about growing up in West Virginia, I was surprised to discover, upon reflection, that maybe it wasn't such an ordinary place at all. I realized that in a place where maybe everybody should be afraid—after all, every day the men went off to work in a deep, dark, and dangerous coal mine— instead they had adopted a philosophy of life that consisted of these basic attitudes:
We are proud of who we are. We stand up for what we believe. We keep our families together. We trust in God but rely on ourselves.
By adhering to these simple approaches to life, they became a people who were not afraid to do what had to be done, to mine the deep coal, and to do it with integrity and honor.
The first time my dad ever took me in the mine was when I was in high school. He wanted to show me where he worked, what he did for a living. I have to confess I was pretty impressed. But what I recall most of all was what he said to me while we were down there. He put his spot of light in my face and explained to me what mining meant to him. He said, "Every day, I ride the mantrip down the main line, get out and walk back into the gob and feel the air pressure on my face. I know the mine like I know a man, can sense things about it that aren't right even when everything on paper says it is. Every day there's something that needs to be done, because men will be hurt if it isn't done, or the coal the company's promised to load won't get loaded. Coal is the life blood of this country. If we fail, the country fails."
And then he said, "There's no men in the world like miners, Sonny. They're good men, strong men. The best there is. I think no matter what you do with your life, no matter where you go or who you know, you will never know such good and strong men."
Over time, though I would meet many famous people from astronauts to actors to Presidents, I came to realize my father was right. There are no better men than coal miners. And he was right about something else, too:
If coal fails, our country fails.
The American economy rests on the back of the coal miner. We could not prosper without him. God in His wisdom provided this country with an abundance of coal, and he also gave us the American coal miner who glories in his work. A television interviewer asked me to describe work in a coal mine and I called it "beautiful." He was astonished that I would say such a thing so I went on to explain that, yes, it's hard work but, when it all comes together, it's like watching and listening to a great symphony: the continuous mining machines, the shuttle cars, the roof bolters, the ventilation brattices, the conveyor belts, all in concert, all accomplishing their great task. Yes, it is a beautiful thing to see.
There is a beauty in anything well done, and that goes for a life well lived.
How and why these men died will be studied now and in the future. Many lessons will be learned. And many other miners will live because of what is learned. This is right and proper.
But how and why these men lived, that is perhaps the more important thing to be studied. We know this much for certain: They were men who loved their families. They were men who worked hard. They were men of integrity, and honor. And they were also men who laughed and knew how to tell a good story. Of course they could. They were West Virginians!
And so we come together on this day to recall these men, and to glory in their presence among us, if only for a little while. We also come in hope that this service will help the families with their great loss and to know the honor we wish to accord them.
No matter what else might be said or done concerning these events, let us forever be reminded of who these men really were and what they believed, and who their families are, and who West Virginians are, and what we believe, too.
There are those now in the world who would turn our nation into a land of fear and the frightened. It's laughable, really. How little they understand who we are, that we are still the home of the brave. They need look no further than right here in this state for proof.
For in this place, this old place, this ancient place, this glorious and beautiful and sometimes fearsome place of mountains and mines, there still lives a people like the miners of Sago and their families, people who yet believe in the old ways, the old virtues, the old truths; who still lift their heads from the darkness to the light, and say for the nation and all the world to hear:
We are proud of who we are.
We stand up for what we believe.
We keep our families together.
We trust in God.
We do what needs to be done.
We are not afraid"
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
"guess it Won't Be too Long..."
Today is the 25th anniversary of "On Golden Pond." There is a semi famous scene in the movie (and subsequent play) that relates to the elder lead in the story telling his wife how he had become totally disoriented while out on a forest path he'd been on thousands of times. In the story it scares the bejesus out of him.
Preparing for death is a life long process. I think that too often people get completely caught up in their own fitness and well being. Not that this is advocating for slothful couch tuberedness, but most of American society seems to be on the polar ends of the scale as far as physical health is concerned. Either, we eat twice our weight in fast foods and deep fried popers, or we hit the gym everyday and are filled with protein shakes of every size and flavor.
Being healthy is first of all a way of life, not a hobby. It's something that touches every facet of life and is in place as a way to create a life that is ultimately more enjoyable. Type II diabetes and knee problems aren't fun.
That being said though, there are those who "hobby for health" who become so wrapped up in their own strength they become shocked or deeply depressed when they actually start to decay.
That's what I meant by viewing death as a lifelong process. Be in touch with your own mortality. Again to repeat a favorite line from the Fight Club movie, "Even the Mona Lisa's fallin' apart." Everything is decaying. Everything is dying.
Conversely it is extremely healthy to be able to morn the lose of someone for our own sake, for the emotion of missing them. But also touched with joy at the idea that the world after this one dictates that we will see them again. And dwell without death. Without decay, without...
Preparing for death is a life long process. I think that too often people get completely caught up in their own fitness and well being. Not that this is advocating for slothful couch tuberedness, but most of American society seems to be on the polar ends of the scale as far as physical health is concerned. Either, we eat twice our weight in fast foods and deep fried popers, or we hit the gym everyday and are filled with protein shakes of every size and flavor.
Being healthy is first of all a way of life, not a hobby. It's something that touches every facet of life and is in place as a way to create a life that is ultimately more enjoyable. Type II diabetes and knee problems aren't fun.
That being said though, there are those who "hobby for health" who become so wrapped up in their own strength they become shocked or deeply depressed when they actually start to decay.
That's what I meant by viewing death as a lifelong process. Be in touch with your own mortality. Again to repeat a favorite line from the Fight Club movie, "Even the Mona Lisa's fallin' apart." Everything is decaying. Everything is dying.
Conversely it is extremely healthy to be able to morn the lose of someone for our own sake, for the emotion of missing them. But also touched with joy at the idea that the world after this one dictates that we will see them again. And dwell without death. Without decay, without...
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Presbyteros means elder
One of the great minor precepts of the Presbyterian church is the fact that it is committed to seeking justice for all persons. To expound on that is the idea they hold that true justice and love together form a single truth. That is to say that perfect Love also equates perfect Justice.
To this end they also give that thought teeth by likening themselves to something that Reinhold Niebuhr wrote; "Love without power simply surrenders the world to power without love."
In other words not only are we trying to functionally create this sense of justice in the world we also must try to adhere to this simple yet difficult idea as best as we possibly can. We must also, in some sense, strive for the power, the purpose, the vehicle, with which we can carry out these ideas.
To this end they also give that thought teeth by likening themselves to something that Reinhold Niebuhr wrote; "Love without power simply surrenders the world to power without love."
In other words not only are we trying to functionally create this sense of justice in the world we also must try to adhere to this simple yet difficult idea as best as we possibly can. We must also, in some sense, strive for the power, the purpose, the vehicle, with which we can carry out these ideas.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Our Mother, Who art in Heaven
About a decade ago there were rumblings throughout the Methodist church about a new aspect of “spirituality.” Honestly, I was a little young to remember the specifics but there were a group of like minded people “out west somewheres” (west of Ohio, where I was at the time) and that they were taking a new view of the sexuality of God.
Somehow this is where “God the Mother” got some of the grounded foundation that began to grow in popularity. In college we had a Chapel Dean who would refer to God as Her. It never really bothered anyone enough to do anything about it, my circle of friends just agreed it wasn’t what we were used to and sounded somehow foreign.
The problem with all this arises when people who are far less comfortable with their perception of God being altered are confronted with the notion of God the Mother. Or, conversely, when a social die hard feminist latches onto the term in order to shove the female persona in the faces of a male dominated religion.
Unfortunately, I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with both types.
The first type are the ones who have been handed down traditions in the form of doctrine, which they assume was actually created by the hand of God on high. The problem here is that this closed minded way of thinking leaves no room for one of the most important parts of Christian life—the Holy Spirit. Which was specifically left by Christ as a comforter and teacher in His physical absence. Jesus never asked his followers to close of their brains to new thought, nor did he reply to their questions with quips about, “well, I’ve always done it this way, that’s why.” The ministry of Christ was one that was filled with tough questions and the even tougher answers that came with them.
The second are even less predisposed to having a change of mind, however. I’ve met feminists who are boons to their sex and to the world because how they choose to approach the issues. And there are certainly issues out there that need champions. Sadly, as with all professions there are those who craft a bad name for the collective, some of whom are the ones jumping on the “God is my Homegirl” bandwagon for no other reason that the sheer joy of being a bunch in the panties of Strom Thurmond and Pat Robertson.
The bottom line is that God is neither. And Both. And everything in between. First, if I may, consider these two pieces of scripture, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing (Matthew 23:37).” This has Christ using obvious feminine allusions in regard to God; the motherly desire to gather the brood closely for protection and out of love. The other scripture is from Genisis 1:27 “And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Clearly a description of God forming both sexes to reflect His/Her own image.
The only difficulty arises out of not being able to stretch our minds to the infinite nature of the Almighty even the least little bit. God has no gender and yet is both aspects of everything we perceive. Male and Female social rules govern so much of our day to day actions if becomes extremely difficult for most of us to separate them and disassociate ourselves from them in regard to our worship life. Though, in truth the question here is, must we do that?
It is not necessary to see God as androgynous in order to “meet faithfully with your God,” nor is it compunctual for us to rewrite every piece of church tradition and service to reflect the non-gender that God owns. Only in our minds and hearts does the revolution need to take place.
If you are in need of your God as the Motherly comforter then so picture it. Our image does not change the Nature of God. If our life needs the strict guidance of the fair judge and Father, then so be it. If Christ can liken His father to a hen, then shouldn’t we be able to also allow ourselves the ability to see both sets of parents in the Infinite?
For most people this idea is not news, but for others it may still border on heresy. Mostly and conclusively the problem lies in our innate inability to match our mortal minds to the infinitude that is God. The idea that a being could be both and neither, in the past and the future, is as near to an aneurism as most of us care to get.
So, we tirelessly revert to the one solid tangible thing that every Believer of every sect can agree on. Father or Mother, God is Love.
Somehow this is where “God the Mother” got some of the grounded foundation that began to grow in popularity. In college we had a Chapel Dean who would refer to God as Her. It never really bothered anyone enough to do anything about it, my circle of friends just agreed it wasn’t what we were used to and sounded somehow foreign.
The problem with all this arises when people who are far less comfortable with their perception of God being altered are confronted with the notion of God the Mother. Or, conversely, when a social die hard feminist latches onto the term in order to shove the female persona in the faces of a male dominated religion.
Unfortunately, I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with both types.
The first type are the ones who have been handed down traditions in the form of doctrine, which they assume was actually created by the hand of God on high. The problem here is that this closed minded way of thinking leaves no room for one of the most important parts of Christian life—the Holy Spirit. Which was specifically left by Christ as a comforter and teacher in His physical absence. Jesus never asked his followers to close of their brains to new thought, nor did he reply to their questions with quips about, “well, I’ve always done it this way, that’s why.” The ministry of Christ was one that was filled with tough questions and the even tougher answers that came with them.
The second are even less predisposed to having a change of mind, however. I’ve met feminists who are boons to their sex and to the world because how they choose to approach the issues. And there are certainly issues out there that need champions. Sadly, as with all professions there are those who craft a bad name for the collective, some of whom are the ones jumping on the “God is my Homegirl” bandwagon for no other reason that the sheer joy of being a bunch in the panties of Strom Thurmond and Pat Robertson.
The bottom line is that God is neither. And Both. And everything in between. First, if I may, consider these two pieces of scripture, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing (Matthew 23:37).” This has Christ using obvious feminine allusions in regard to God; the motherly desire to gather the brood closely for protection and out of love. The other scripture is from Genisis 1:27 “And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Clearly a description of God forming both sexes to reflect His/Her own image.
The only difficulty arises out of not being able to stretch our minds to the infinite nature of the Almighty even the least little bit. God has no gender and yet is both aspects of everything we perceive. Male and Female social rules govern so much of our day to day actions if becomes extremely difficult for most of us to separate them and disassociate ourselves from them in regard to our worship life. Though, in truth the question here is, must we do that?
It is not necessary to see God as androgynous in order to “meet faithfully with your God,” nor is it compunctual for us to rewrite every piece of church tradition and service to reflect the non-gender that God owns. Only in our minds and hearts does the revolution need to take place.
If you are in need of your God as the Motherly comforter then so picture it. Our image does not change the Nature of God. If our life needs the strict guidance of the fair judge and Father, then so be it. If Christ can liken His father to a hen, then shouldn’t we be able to also allow ourselves the ability to see both sets of parents in the Infinite?
For most people this idea is not news, but for others it may still border on heresy. Mostly and conclusively the problem lies in our innate inability to match our mortal minds to the infinitude that is God. The idea that a being could be both and neither, in the past and the future, is as near to an aneurism as most of us care to get.
So, we tirelessly revert to the one solid tangible thing that every Believer of every sect can agree on. Father or Mother, God is Love.
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