One time, when I was in Romania, I ruined my favorite pair of shorts because I sat in goose poop (that's pupa de gusca in Romanian). That's only mildly funny until you realize that I was playing Duck, Duck, Goose with a bunch of village kids. That's the sort of stuff that happens to me.
I'm reading this book called the Book of Joby. It's a modern day version of the Book of Job (of biblical fame) that happens right here along the northern coast of california. So far I absolutely love it--though to be honest I'm only three chapters in. One of the things I love about the book is the way God interacts with Satan, his angels, and even people. One of my favorite scenes so far is one where Gabriel, who has been worshipfully contemplating the light of the sun reflecting off the waves of the Pacific for a couple of days, suddenly realizes that there is someone on the beach in his "territory" that he wasn't aware of. He flys over for a closer look and sees a fisherman casting his line into the ocean. Scanning the man's memories, his fears and desires, he gets a good idea of who the man is and finds him to be completely ordinary. Average. Just what you'd expect of a man of that age fishing along the coast. Its all very unnerving to Gabriel, though, as he's not sure how the man got to where he was without Gabe knowing. Suddenly, he notices a certain detail and swoops down next to the man, suddenly appearing as a human being.
"Kind of risky, doing that in front of humans, isn't it?" the old man asks.
"It would be if I was in the company of humans, my Lord," Gabe responds.
Smiling mischievously, the old man asks, "What gave me away?
"You're not using any bait," Gabe chuckles.
"Can't an old man who loves fishing just cast into the water for the enjoyment of it?" the old man challenges.
"Yes, but even then he'd use a hook!" Gabe laughs. And the gig is up. God admits who he is. He and Gabriel continue in this bantering fashion as God prepares them a meal and they eat together.
I love this picture of God interacting with his creation. I feel like sometimes we get really caught up in the omni-s of God: his omniscience, omnipresence, omnipotence. We forget that God is a person, just as we are persons, and he tends to interact with us as persons do with persons. What kind of conversation can you really have with someone who knows everything, including what you're going to say? What's the point, even? Why tell God about your day when he was there? What's funny about sitting in pupa de gusca to someone who not only wouldn't allow it to happen, but technically doesn't even have a butt?
But that's the beautiful thing about God. He does interact with us as persons. He's not--and I daresay, never has been--an intangible spiritual entity that we cannot comprehend. Well, I guess technically that's exactly what he is, but he loves us enough to stoop to our level of limited comprehension so we can at least relate to him in the way we're used to. That's why prayer is important. Because I think if you were to pass God in the street and he saw your unhappy face, he'd ask what was the matter (even though he knows). That's why he says that "where two of you are gathered in my name, there I will be also." Because he knows that we need to be physically present with people sometimes--including him. We need to shake their hands and punch their shoulders (even though he doesn't really have anything to shake or punch). And that's why he came to Earth as Jesus. Because we were never really going to know God until he sat down and ate a meal with us. Walked down the street with us. Used the bathroom before us.
It reminds me of my interaction with kids. I had a little buddy named Isaiah that I used to hang with all the time. He was like five or six. We didn't talk about the latest episode of the Office or how much gas mileage our cars got. We talked about how, well come to think of it, there wasn't actually much "talking". We just chased each other around a lot, built stuff out of sofa pillows and assembled things out of Legos. And I never thought less of Isaiah because he didn't have an opinion on the Iraqi war. Isaiah knew me as well as any five year old can know a grown man. Not much, but enough for me to be his best buddy.
I hope there are geese in heaven. And that Jesus has a change of robe.
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