Slices of God

The universe is a symphony of wonder and beauty, simplicity and complexity, elegance and extravagance. Yet those of us living here in the miniscule sector we call home wrestle with fear and survival, discontinuity and incompleteness, life and death. We feebly reach for something beyond this small space but remain firmly entrenched.

We humans live for what we do not see and die for what we do. We fight for what we want to believe rather than live into the strange, dimensional, and fractal nature of the cosmos and the symphonic entities we were intended to be. We live in a state of discord.

Imagine, if you will, attending an orchestral performance of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F Major. This particular orchestra is known to have members who are quite opinionated on the topic of Bach. Some are quite adamant as to which scores of the concerto best represent Bach’s intentions. In their pursuit of the purest form of representation of the Master, they limit themselves to these scores.

The conductor raises his baton and the audience is hushed. Then all hell breaks loose. Scores from the beginning to the end of the concerto are played simultaneously! The din is overwhelming. Yet, the musicians do not flinch. They each know they are playing the right score. The conductor feverishly taps his music stand. The members, however, are not even looking at the conductor. Some look at other performers angrily for being on the wrong page! The chaos continues.

This scenario sounds preposterous, but in reality plays itself out every day on earth. It is what we have done for millennia. Music that would otherwise overwhelm us with beauty, if played symphonically, is now a most displeasing sound. We depreciate variation rather than pursue truth in harmonious relationship. We have failed by letting our complexities divide us rather than use them to build a larger and more complete symphony that pursues truth without hesitation.

This is not simply a religious problem. We are fragmented philosophically, racially, politically, scientifically, geographically, economically, and culturally. Still there is beauty in the fragments. It is found in giftedness, in perception, in color, and in tradition, among other diversities. Can the pieces play in harmony once again? I believe they can. I believe our call is to resonate in diversity. Diversity is the symphony.

– Sam Augsburger

For most of my life I have carried around a nagging intellectual uncertainty that resists the absoluteness of the religious doctrines I inherited. How can so many others in the world be so wrong while I carry around the baggage of theological correctness? Something simply did not add up. Once I began to acknowledge this exhaustion and uncertainty, doubts and questions that had been buried deep inside from years of repression surfaced with eruptive force . . .

“Who put God into power?”

“Why is there so much pain and suffering?”

“Can God hear me?”

“Does he, she, or it even care?”

“What kind of God plays sadistic tricks on humans, sending to hell those who didn’t get the whole salvation thing quite right?”

Better yet, “What kind of loving God ordains some humans to fill hell?”

“If scripture is so inerrant, why do we jump through such elaborate hoops to explain away all the inconsistencies?”

“Why was I tormented as a kid, believing one moment that I was going to heaven, only to find myself in the next moment convinced that I was headed to hell?”

“Oh, and what about all those unanswered prayers? Who is to blame? Did I not have enough faith, or is God simply indifferent?”

“If we truly believe God is infinite, how is it that we have come to pretend to know so much about God?”

While the experience of regurgitating these questions was frightening at times, it gradually grew into one of freedom: freedom to ask fearful, ugly, and difficult questions. Now, instead of dreading the retribution of an angry God for such disrespectful interrogations on my part, I live with an enduring image of a Teacher who smiles at those who dare to ask forbidden questions. I eventually found answers to some of the questions. Others simply melted away in insignificance. Some remain suspended in time.

This is a journey where all questions are valid questions, and where the process of seeking answers is the destination. Let’s wander into Slices of God.

– Sam Augsburger

Over fifteen years ago I came face to face with doubts and questions about God that I had repressed since childhood (details to follow). Since then I have been on a journey of wading through discontinuities within and between sacred writings and scientific data. I resigned the doctrines I held so staunchly, including the God concept itself, resolving to start from scratch. I chose to permit scientific, mathematical, philosophical, and theological sources to speak into each other. Though the process was difficult at times, I am eternally grateful for the resulting freedom that has filled my soul.

The quest is not over. In fact, I now believe the journey is the destination. The book, Slices of God: Strange, Dimensional, and Fractal Perspectives on God and the Cosmos, is a summary of the process to date.  It’s an invitation to move out of our tightly sealed boxes and experience the freedom that honest searching can bring. Some of the entries on this site will be excerpts from the book.

If you wish to read the whole story, Slices of God is available in paperback and Kindle format from Amazon.com.

– Sam Augsburger