Book — God Laughs and Plays

A few days ago, Justin and I found ourselves in Portland, on the way back from a wedding in Bend. We're not in Oregon often, but fellow bibliophile friends told us: "If you're ever within 50 miles of Portland, you HAVE to go to Powell's Bookstore. It's like Mecca."

We liked Mecca, a.k.a. Powell's City of Books.  It's literally a city block of books. More than a million of them.

I'd like to return to Mecca again sometime when I'm not almost 7 months pregnant and grouchy due to poor sleep. We almost didn't stop. But I can tell you, the 2 hours we spent there were well worth it.

I spent all my time in The Blue Room (Literature and Poetry), and as I was perusing, a curious title jumped out at me from the shelf. God Laughs & Plays by David James Duncan.

Huh.

Enough friends have recommended David James Duncan's work to me, especially The Brothers K, that I know of him and respect him (I really gave it a good shot with Brothers, but I couldn't see past the baseball.  I may have to give it another try).

I flipped it over, and here's what I read on the back:
"In this multiple award-winning and bestselling diagnosis of the contemporary American spirit, David James Duncan suggests that the de facto political party embodied by the so-called Christian Right has turned worship into a self-righteous betrayal of the words and example of the very Jesus it claims to praise. In a bracing and often hilarious response to this trend, God Laughs & Plays offers churchless sermons, stories, memoir, conversations, and cosmological reflections that scorn riches and embrace the poor; bless peacemakers, not war-makers; celebrate creation, diversity, empathy, playfulness and beauty; and insist that Divine Mystery is indeed mysterious and compassion is literally compassionate. The spiritual kingdom described by Jesus, this unusual book reminds us, is located not "in the Sky" or beyond a disastrous future, but within us, to be sought and embodied in the here and now."
Churchless sermons?  I'm in.  It's how I've felt about all of what I call my kindred-spirit authors... Anne Lamott, Fred Buechner, Annie Dillard, Thomas Merton, Robin Meyers, Philip Yancey.

The prologue, entitled "Bush Administration Sacks Narnia," didn't disappoint.  While reading this together a couple nights ago, Justin stopped after this section and just said, "Wow. Beautiful."  I happen to agree with him.
"Intense spiritual feelings were frequent during my boyhood, but they did not come from churchgoing or from bargaining with God through prayer. The connection I felt to the Creator came, unmediated, from Creation itself. The spontaneous gratitude I felt for birds and birdsong, tree-covered or snowcapped mountains, rivers and their trout, moon and starlight, summer winds on wilderness lakes, the same lakes silenced by winter snows, spring resurrections after autumn's mass deaths — these became the spiritual instructors of my boyhood. In even the smallest suburban wilds I felt linked to powers and mysteries I could sincerely imagine calling the Presence of God.

In 15 years of churchgoing I did not once feel this same sense of Presence. What I felt instead was a lot of heavily agenda-ed, fear-based information being shoved at me by men on the church payroll. Though these men claimed to speak for God, I was never convinced. So on the day I was granted the option of what our preachers called "leaving the faith," I did leave — and increased my faith by so doing. Following intuition and love with all the sincerity and attentiveness I could muster, I consciously chose a life spent in  the company of rivers, wilderness, Wisdom literature, like-minded friends, and quiet contemplation. And as it's turned out, this life — though dirt-poor in church pews — has enriched me with a sense of the holy, and left me far more grateful than I'll ever be able to say."
Anyway.  I know these kind of kindreds can be few and far between, so if you're interested, pick up a copy. Just be forewarned — if the marriage of fundamentalism and political conservatism bothers you even one iota, this book will also get you dangerously fired up between lovely nature passages . . . I think I accidentally started a flame war on Facebook within hours (outlined my reasons for thinking Glenn Beck is destructive, had an acquaintance from my hometown church call me an angry offensive liberal, among other things).

More on Bush sacks Narnia in a future post.  Duncan's exploration of Narnia and our current nationalist + religion blend was brilliant.