Good one, God

Sorry for the delay in getting a blog out. It’s January, which means that it’s dull, gray and dreary. All I want to do is sink into the couch and flip channels. (Thanks for getting me going Suzan!)

A colleague of mine recommened Shalom Auslander’s The Foreskin’s Lament. The title of the book sort of says it all. Very Sedaris in style, except it can sometimes be darker and is not gay. I enjoyed the book very much.

Auslander was born and raised in an orthodox Jewish family and has a unique relationship with God. I relate well to this relationship. I wasn’t raised in an orthodox anything; my parents weren’t exactly religious, resulting in me not knowing one puja from the other or caring all that much.

Despite growing up in a non-religious house, I was always aware of God. I remember telling my sister that I only believed in God because if he did exist, I didn’t want to be on the wrong side. I have always been scared of God—in the sense that if he did exist, shit, I was in deep trouble. I have after all sinned—in bucket loads.

I don’t talk about my God with anyone; I know people will think I’m crazy, so I keep it to myself (but seriously if Auslander can write a book and he’s much more cuckoo than I am, I think I’m safe in venting my God emotion via this blog).

I make deals with God. Yes, yes, you heard me right. Well, the Indian God responds to bribery and that’s where this all began.

“God, if you make xyz happen, I will give hundred dollars to the temple in Tirupati.”
“God, if I pass my exam, I will shave all my hair off at Tirupati.”“God, if you help me meet Brad Pitt, I will give a thousand dollars to the local Hanuman temple.”

So I have always made deals with God. You make this happen and I will do this for you. And I thought I was the only crazy one—but Auslander proves me wrong, he’s just as nuts (and sometimes worse) than me.

My husband is Danish and like a lot of Danes he doesn’t really have a God concept. I’m not even sure if he believes in God. He thinks it’s cute that I do, that I have a small temple in the kitchen, which used to belong to my mother and then somehow was inherited by me. But I do believe that he thinks I’m completely crazy when I tell him about the recent deal I made with God.

“Sorry, we can’t eat meat today. I promised God that if I didn’t eat meat today, I’d get ___________ that I really, really want.”

He plays along as he knows he must.

God is a strange concept—to believe or not to believe is ultimately the question; but I think there are some sub-questions here as well. How much to believe? To believe blindly or with a pinch of salt?

Everyone views God differently—and in the most part I think that’s fair. Our relationship with God, I believe is a private one. Whether we make deals, look up at the skies and say “Good one, God,” or wonder why God allows so much pain and suffering in this world or laugh with job because we know someone up there likes us—I think it’s important to note that each one of us is allowed to have our unique relationship with God.

So, go ahead, get a copy of Auslander’s book and test your God concept. There’s really nothing you could be doing with God that this guy hasn’t tried already.