Catechetics 101 (the unauthorized version)
Why did God make me? God made me to know, love and serve Him in this world, and be with Him in the next.
That was the opening question — and answer – in my First Grade Catechism . I memorized it, as I memorized everything, walking back and forth in my bedroom.
It seemed so simple, even obvious. As long as you don’t give it any thought. A Catholic education teaches you to think, but not about what it means to be a Catholic. Once you do, you’re in trouble, and you have bought a one-way ticket to apostate land.
Think about it. [Metaphysical Alert: If you don’t want to think about it you should immediately stop reading this and turn on your TV to The Shopping Channel]
So, to “know” God. Really? Nobody can really know God. The Jews were almost afraid to know Him. YHWH (the name of God without the vowels); they didn’t even say his name! For them He showed up as a flaming bush, or would that be Flaming Bush, for Moses. A bush is easy to “know.” But really, how can you know the most, what? Significant, Essential? What? “Being,” in the universe? Impossible.
So, He ends up looking like Michelangelo depicted him: some old white-haired guy with a Santa Claus face. He was the “Word” the first thing “to be”; everything was created by Him (yes, usually “Him,” not “Her”). Yes, let’s “go there,” the gender thing. So, if God is a Him, does he have a penis, like other “hims”? (Hey, I warned you back there with the Metaphysical Alert.) If so, what does he use His penis for? Does he pee? Does he even eat and drink? If so, what? And does he use His penis for that other purpose? With who, or Whom? He didn’t start out with a “Partner,” so he would have to “create” one. (Now you can see the real advantage in being God, can’t you? “Hmmm, today I think I’ll create Angelina Jolie, no Sophia Loren, no . . .”. ) But you just can’t imagine God “doing it ,” can you? You can’t even imagine Him having a pee.
So, if you imagine a neutered God, how can you “know” Him in any way that you know any other him. You can’t even have a beer with Him because he doesn’t pee, or tell him dirty jokes because he doesn’t get laid. Forget about it; there’s no way you can know God. He’s probably a pretty lonely Deity.
So, if that’s so, how can you “love” somebody you don’t know? You can’t. But you better not say you “don’t” love God, or you’re in trouble. So, if you try to love God, how can you do it? How do you love somebody who could kill you in the next instant? Who has you life and death in His hands. How can you love that kind of power? You don’t; you say you love it because your fear it. (By the way, we’re assuming here, or the catechism is assuming, that God wants, or needs to be loved. He’s never said so; even the first commandment just says that we have to “recognize” Him as the one God, and put no other gods before Him.) Anyway, God is supposed to know everything; so, if he knows we really fear him, but call it love, he knows it’s all bullshit. Why would He want to care about it anyway? I’m suspicious of people who say that they really love God. (And He probably is, too.)
To serve Him; that’s the third part of the catechism answer. Obviously this was put in there so that some kids would want to become priests and nuns. Certainly not to think about it. What does God want me to become; everybody can’t be a priest or a nun. It’s the toughest question in your life. And why do some many kids say that want to grow up to be a fireman? OK, forget about that.
Can you “serve” God by being a, say, CPA, even one who doesn’t cook the books for Enron or MCI? Are you supposed to use your “God given” talents to serve God. Sure, like you’re a real good pole dancer, or a linebacker, or politician. Does God appreciate good pole dancing?* We have to do something, but most things seem to serve Mammon, not God, and render to Caesar, not God, if you know what I mean. That’s where the expression “a calling” came from. It was a way for people to say that they were “called” (from vocare , Latin root for “vocation”) to do what they do. (“Hello, this is God: I’m calling you — hey, I don’t give a damn if you’re eating dinner!–- to tell you I want you to be a life insurance salesman.”)
OK, the fact is that you can get away with saying that just about anything you do is serving God in some way. That’s what the guys who flew those planes into the World Trade Center claimed they were doing. That’s what Cardinal Law thought he was doing when he was playing musical parishes with pederast priests.
Serving God. It’s a cop out. I say change it: to serving Mankind. I think that’s what God meant anyway.
Alright, Alright ! Serving Human kind. Geez, this political correctness stuff can drive you nuts!
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©2005, James A. Clapp (UrbisMedia Ltd. Pub. 5.25.2005)
*This could have been one of those mistakes in interpretation. God might have said he wanted to see “a good Pole dancing,” not “good pole dancing.” In which case, instead of Pope John-Paul II, Karol Wojtyla, might have become a competitive Tango specialist in Krakow.