So, I might have called Mark Driscoll an asshat in my last post.
My wife pulled me aside this morning to ask about that. You see, I’ve always been irate when people throw around derogatory words for folks who disagree with them. I didn’t like hearing it at the time, but I think she was right when she suggested I was out of line.
This blog is a place for me to be honest, yes. But not careless. I don’t really think Mark Driscoll is an asshat. I’m sure any hats he owns are very nice and not ass-like at all. But I do think the picture of God he worships is fucked-up.
When I was a Christian, I had this idea that humans had a deep, primal urge to worship. Sometimes, I still think we do. I used to worship Mark Driscoll’s hip, calvinist God. Now, I think I’d much rather worship my wife.
Top Ten Reasons why my wife is more worthy of worship than Mark Driscoll’s God:
- Mark Driscoll’s God (let’s call him Theos) brings most people into existence for the sole purpose of inflicting never-ending misery on them in hell. And then he has the gall to turn around and say it’s their own fault for being in the wrong religion. My wife, on the other hand, brings her children into existence for the sole purpose of lavishing every good thing on them that she can muster.
- Theos demands that his people serve him fully and sacrificially, threatening punishment for failure. My wife would rather serve people, sharing whatever blessings she has with everyone freely.
- Theos rejects you when your opinions about him are out of line with how he’d like you to think about him. My wife doesn’t care what you think of her, she loves anyway.
- Theos is a big, fear-mongering authoritarian father-figure. My wife is a soft, gentle mother. A sustainer and a creator, rather than a punisher or authority.
- Theos demands obedience before he offers life. My wife gives life and nurturing aid regardless of how her children act.
- Theos demands that you worship and admire him. My wife just wants to love, and whatever happens after that is alright with her.
- Theos gazes deep into my every action, calling all my struggles and good attempts filthy rags and useless works. My wife accepts every weak and fumbling offering of love I give her and even transforms them into greater things through her own love.
- Theos promised that if I served him, he’d grant me ravishing joy. He lied. My wife made no promises. But she ravishes me daily, without asking for a thing in return.
- Theos encourages me to fight against the reprobates he created, using every bit of religious malice I can muster. My wife gently asks me if I was right to call a cruel man an asshat.
- Theos claims I cannot see his face and live (Ex. 33:20). My wife’s face and body and words and spirit give life.
If Theos were a real person, we’d hate him. Hell, we’d probably throw him in prison. My new religion is love. And my wife is love’s Devi. The mother-wife goddess, restored from mankind’s oldest religions, called back from a time when we recognized the miracle of birth and nourishment.
All praise to the Devi. May her love cover the earth as the waters fill the sea.