Dialog About God, part A

(Two primary grade teachers preparing lessons at neighboring desks.)

 J: How can people even believe in God?

M: (Says nothing.)

J: I mean, what proof do they have?

M: I've always known God exists.

J: (Frowns.)

M: (Keeps working.)

J: So are you saying you've seen God or something?

M: What if I say I have? Would you believe?

J: No. 

M: You would accuse me of deluding myself, or of being duplicitous, would you not?

J: Proof is proof. What kind of proof do you have?

M: I have no proof I can offer you.

J: But you've always believed.

M: I didn't say that.

J: (Shakes her head.) You just said that you've always believed in God.

M: I said I have always known that God exists.

J: So you've always believed.

M: I didn't say that.

J: I hate talking to you about anything. It always ends up going in circles.

M: Conversation should be two-way, shouldn't it?

J: So tell me.

M: So listen.

J: Okay, so what is this "always"?

M: (Looks up and meets J's questioning gaze.)

J: I mean, always means back in high school? middle school? grade school?

M: Before grade school. Way before.

J: How can a kid that young understand God?

M: (Goes back to work.) I don't know any adults who understand God very well.

J: (Also returns to work.) Just you, huh?

M: Did I say that?

J: But that's what you mean.

M: What's what I mean?

J: Going around in circles again?

M: I'm guessing I'm going to have to guess at what you are asking. When I say I don't know any adults who understand God well, I include myself.

J: But not really. 

M: No. Really.

J: But you understand God better than me.

(Both work in silence for a few minutes.)

J: You do think you understand God better than me.

M: Is that what it boils down to, a question of pride?

J: So I'm supposed to be humble, but you're not?

M: (Stops working and turns to face J.)

J: (Keeps working.)

M: You're better at teaching math than I am.

J: True.

M: You help me when I ask.

J: Of course.

M: I don't complain when I have to ask you for help, do I?

J: Sometimes.

M: (Thinks for a moment, then nods his head.) Okay, maybe I do. (Returns to working.)

(Both work in silence for a minute or two.)

J: But you've always believed in God.

M: How many of the children that you teach know that one plus one makes two?

J: There are a couple of kids who can't always seem to remember it, but what's that got to do with anything?

M: How many actually believe it?

J: (Laughs.) Good point. More than half don't really believe it means anything. They're just good at memorizing and repeating the arithmetic.

M: How many understand the full implications of addition and subtraction of integers?

J: (Thinks for a moment.) Actually, I have a couple of students who seems to get the concept of a ring, and of a series within a ring.

M: The students all have different understanding of what numbers are, right? And yet most of your students can do basic addition and subtraction.

J: They all can, most of the time.

M: Does that mean that any student is any smarter than any other?

J: Smarter at math.

M: Smarter at one part of math, maybe not at other parts.

(Again they both work in silence for a half a minute.)

J: So I'm too dumb to do basic theology.

M: Theology is man's study of God. It often has little-to-nothing to do with God, as I understand God.

J: So you know more than the experts.

M: Well, for my purposes, I guess I know more than most of the so-called experts. For their purposes, I don't think I do, and I'm not sure I care. They have different purposes from me.

J: And you just generally don't trust experts anyway.

M: Especially about religion.

J: So that makes you the expert.

M: No, but I do know more about what I know than the experts know about what I know.

J: What does that have to do with God? You don't own God.

M: Excellent question.

J: (Thinks for a moment.) But now it sounds like you're saying that whatever you believe is just fine.

M: (Doesn't say anything.)

J: But you can't really be saying that. 

M: You -- (Stops and starts over.) People have to start with what they know and what they can believe.

J: What if we don't want to start going that direction?

M: Then you don't.

J: And that's fine?

M: Well, yes.

J: You're lying.

M: Not (Pauses.) telling the whole truth, but not telling lies.  

J: So what's the whole truth?

M: Everybody dies eventually.

J: And that's the end.

M: Of this life. Not of the soul.

J: And, according to you, I have to face the justice of God when I die, so I'd better be a good little girl in this world.

M: Did I say that?

J: You were going to.

M: Let me ask you, what does it mean to be a good little girl?

J: Follow your rules.

M: Not my rules.

J: Your God's rules.

M: (Thinks for a moment.) My God or your God?

J: I have no God. I don't believe.

M: Because you don't want to give me a chance to say you have to obey my rules?

J: No. Because there is no God. (Looks up at the wall clock.) I've got to get to my class.

M: Ah. Me, too.