Tag: C.S. Lewis

God is a funny guy

God got even with me today.

Last night, in a satirical post titled ‘Where is God in this crazy world?’ I had him in a psych ward. [See HERE.]

And today — guess what! — I was racked with severe stomach and chest pains, all goddamn day. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t even have a beer or my nightly dosage of gin. The misery of that!

Finally, only Xanax could somewhat mollify the pain.

Conclusion: God does not have a sense of humor — Oh, damn, I suppose I’ll get hell again tonight for that comment!

Okay, I’ll play along — God does have a sense of humor. He’s a funny guy. I won’t go as far as calling him a clown, as the great religious writer and poet C.S. Lewis did in his book ‘A Grief Observed’, which since the death of my wife has become my Bible.

Lewis wrote: “Is God a clown who whips away your bowl of soup one moment in order, next moment, to replace it with another bowl of the same soup? Even nature isn’t such a clown as that.” [Page 14 of HarperOne edition]

Elsewhere in the book, Lewis asks the question: “Is it rational to believe in a bad God? The Cosmic sadist, the spiteful imbecile?” [Page 30]

Man, it takes guts to write that.

And this guy Lewis [1898-1963] was a Christian!

But I’m taking the easy way out, by releasing God from Psych Ward 3C. He is now free to go about his godly or ungodly business, whichever the case may be.

Just leave me out of it, Lord, and accept the fact I’m out of my gourd.

It is approaching midnight, warily, I turn out the light.

God or Cosmic Sadist?

In his book ‘A Grief Observed’ the great Christian poet C.S. Lewis, after the death of his beloved wife, referred to God as the “Cosmic Sadist.”

“So this is what God’s really like,” he wrote. “Deceive yourself no longer.”

He was playing the devil’s advocate; his Christian faith remained intact. But for wannabe Christians already on shaky ground, it’s a strong argument against a “loving God” — as all the horrors committed against mankind, from (just in recent history) the holocaust to 9/11.

Every night I cry for my wife, who died four days before Christmas, and I hear myself saying, “Oh God, help me!” And then I realize that is such a pointless cry for help.

Even Lewis admitted, “God seems to be absent at our greatest need, because he is absent — non-existent.” Even Christ on the cross said, “Why hast though forsaken me?”

Again, Lewis echoes my own cries when he wrote about his dead wife, “I cry out for her, with mad, midnight endearments and entreaties spoken into the empty air.”

So, lesson learned, henceforth I will cease my solitary, tearful entreaties to the dark void of oblivion and drown my midnight cries with that good ol’ cosmic cocktail, booze and Xanax.