A Letter to God

Dear God,

I hope you'll forgive my presumption for trying to send a letter straight to you. I just wanted to ask a few questions. I mean that with the most humbleness and humility I can muster--I really do. I don't know if you've noticed me or not--I mean, I'm sure you're a busy person and all. It's possible you have, as much as you have to manage (omniscience and omnipotence and all, heh!), and you've seen me flailing my little arms around, banging my head around, trying to figure things out. I'm just really, really, really confused, and I was hoping you could give me some advice.

I want to know why people suffer. I want to know why we have homeless people on the streets saying "God bless you" every time they get a dime--but they haven't seem to have been saved by your grace. Are they not doing something right? Perhaps they're not actually bringing themselves under your wing, so to speak. The homeless man I gave a dollar to the other day seemed to have the brightest, thankful, and alive blue eyes as he asked me if I was coming from school and I nodded, smiled, and passed on. Why is he still on the streets? I don't think he should be on the streets. Of course! There's debauchery and sin everywhere--we've got people doing bad things left and right, etcetera--life is hard. But why do the most charming, seemingly good and pure people seem to meet the worst cosmically ironic fates? Or is it just a theme we've seen in books and tragic plays? I don't understand. Are they doing something wrong? If not them, what about the Native Americans? Weren't they some of the most spiritual people around at the time? Yet, they didn't seem to be under your wing; they got really messed up by the bad white people. Was it their foolishness by falling into drinking and debauchery by the bad white man? I don't know.

I want to know why we have a war going on in Iraq right now, and many God-loving people are dying (at least, I assume they are God loving). I want to know why they're suffering. I mean, I'm sure you're a nice person. I don't doubt that. Giving us the gift of life and experience is a really, really cool thing, and I really appreciate that. I just want to know why. I'm really lost. In the age of Rationalism, they called the world a "Great Machine". They believed you made the world, still! But they also believed it was like a clock--self functioning, forever. It certainly seems that way--I can't really say that I see your hands coming down upon the world to save us all from this insanity. I've heard that people have experienced theophany and all--when's my turn? But I get I have to be patient. I get that wisdom is slow and gradual--not at all like the world we've come to know, based in "levels" and "achievements". It's really funny, though--we have quantum numbers. Always whole numbers, never decimals--and then we get up to reality, and everything flows seamlessly. I can't see pixels out of anything! It's all... perfect. But then we create our own levels to the world. Eh.

I want to know--is there something I'm doing wrong? I'm all for serving you, because it makes me happy. If anything, it's the most selfish thing I can do--it gives me a sense of pleasure incredibly strong, an amazing satisfaction and a feeling of glorious sanctity. But I don't know how. What am I supposed to do? At most, I get a prickle on my body whenever I come to a profound realization. Or an idea of what I'm supposed to do--just a glimpse! But I still don't understand. I can't imagine that you'd really be the kind of person to play favorites to your Christian worshippers. I mean, really--come on--that's silly. If we show you devotion, we should be in the "in crowd" with you, right? But what are we doing wrong? It's not just that--but how can we transcend our problems? How can we get to a utopian society, and live in perfection and happiness, free from problems? Is it possible? Or do we have to wait to get to the afterlife--if there is one? I mean, I don't mean to hate on you or anything--I love you--but sometimes it really seems like you're just not there. Just sometimes. Sometimes it seems that the clockmaker has disappeared, and I'm stuck with a bunch of mad cogs spinning out of control.

Maybe you're not there--but I think you are. The feelings I can't describe and revelation and deep understanding that transcends logic--that's my only proof for you being there. But you know, I don't imagine you like most people do, either--a couch potato kind of guy with a beard, toying with our fates for your amusement. I really don't think you're that kind of person. Of course, the Buddhists and the Taoists and the Zen monks and the Hindus will all say that you're not a distinguished entity, but part of everything--perhaps that's not exactly right, but you get what I mean, right? I think that would make sense--my belief is that you're a part of everything, and a part of me--and I'm a part of you. Everything works according to cosmic, universal laws--and the universe is a Giant Machine--just with a bit more "mystical" aspects than we originally thought. But I wouldn't know. It just seems that it's not fair. Money and greed seems to rule the world right now. Will there be retribution, redemption, forgiveness, reward, and punishment after I'm dead? Maybe I'll just be brought to life again? I've thought also sometimes, that I'm just alive to learn something. Perhaps after that, I'll eventually rise, and rise--and I don't have to live on this world anymore. I'm sure it was beautiful at creation--but boy, we sure haven't done good with it.

As I'm sure you can see, I'm really, really lost. I'm sure a lot of us are, too. You know, all the other people say they have the answers--but I can't really listen to them. All the other people say they know you--but I don't really think they do, either. I can't really listen to anyone else but you. I'd really like it if you wrote back.

Much Love,

- Scyze

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