Let’s begin with two verses, one from the Hebrew Bible and one from the New Testament:
2 Samuel 22:22, “For I have kept the ways of the LORD; I have not done evil by turning from my God.”
Philippians 4:19, “And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”
A commonplace between these two verses and throughout the Holy Bible is the use of a possessive personal pronoun when calling out the name of God—“my God,” “our God” and “your God” are used over and again.
This practice contrasts sharply with many believers today (Christian and non-Christians alike) that use the name of God—in praise or vain. Usually, as I just did, they say something to the effect: “I have faith in God” or “Do you believe in God” or “Repent in the name of God” or something along those lines. The point is, however, generally speaking, people today don’t use possessive personal pronouns when referring to their God—they just say “God” and leave it at that.
Without getting terribly deep into an explanation, I would venture that the environment in which believers live plays a significant role in how they say what they say in terms of their faith. So, in effect, different contexts yield different ways of expressing the name of (our) God.
The language of “my God” grew from the soil of exile, well prior to the entrenchment of Christendom and the folding of pagan and, particularly, Hellenistic Greek cultural traditions. In this contextual milieu, the use of the possessive personal pronoun had the effect of carving out some divine space for “the Lord my God” in relation to the various other figures of piety that dotted the social landscape.
At some point, however, amidst the comforting dominance of Christendom, the language of “God” emerged as the framework for speaking on the topic. Under these conditions, there was no need for a possessive pronoun to distinguish “my God” from the others, because the others were now marginalized and mattered little in this new context of relations between religious and political authorities. Christendom made space only for “God.”
In this emerging postmodern condition, when growing numbers of Christians and followers of Jesus are once again recognizing themselves as exiles amid empire, when a plurality of difference rather than homogeneity is the norm of everyday life, as we enter an era of post-Christendom, the language of “my God” is called for once again. Within post-Christendom, space enough is produced for “my God” and “your god.”
What’s the value in making such a seemingly minor change in talking of (my) God? I believe that it is potentially great. Like the tiny wild mustard seed that grows into a great bush or the all but invisible yeast that enables the bread to rise, small seeds of change can yield great fruit in these emerging postmodern conditions.
Incorporating “my God” into my everyday piety, prayer and mission work more closely articulates my lived-faith with the unfolding story of the kingdom of God as it written in the Holy Bible. Saying “my God” (in addition to or in lieu of “God”) draws you nearer to the living Word.
The language of “my God” implies a space for otherness, for “your God” and your traditions of prayer and piety to exist alongside “our“ traditions. Instead of obliterating or assimilating differences and otherness, the language of “my God” recognizes the pluralities that constitutes the emerging post-modern condition in a way that possessive-pronoun-free talk of “God” cannot and does not, as contemporary inter-faith relations attest (particularly between large sections of Christians and Muslims and Jews, for instance). “God” poses a dichotomy. It is often either the Judeo-Christian God or nothing at all. Using “my God” deconstructs this Christendom-centered practice and opens up the way for a more expansive and less exclusive vision of (my) God.
The language of “my God” spoken in today’s context is a bit unsettling to those happily settled into the ways of Christendom. If you don’t believe me, experiment for yourself. Start using “my God” and “our God” and “your God” and “O Lord my God” and watch how people react. It is talk that stands out of place in our late modern contexts. It draws attention to itself and, more importantly, it draws attention to the settled and unquestioned way of doing things and shows that change is possible.
The unsettling effect is useful for an emerging theology and way of relating to our God because it destabilizes or deconstructs entrenched practices that give form to everyday spiritual and religious life for many Christians and followers of Jesus.
Re: "O'Lord my God": The Language of Exile and the Postmodern Co
Jacob, this is a very gentle way of raising some interestingly big questions. I like it.
In part you seem to be talking about the enculturation of the word God, and this is, of course, both inevitable and can be valuable. Personally I don’t think the possessive pronoun is a product of exile so much as an environment where it was obvious that there were many gods and the possessive and genitive would be needed to draw distinctions. Which, naturally, would be brought into stark contrast in exile.
It is interesting that, as you point out, the presumption of an absolute singular meaning, and the assumption that the meaning is self-evident, are products of western Christendom. (And a whole raft of social and cultural assumptions about the death of the other gods)
I can’t remember the writer but there is a challenge that says that a vast amount of our talk of God hangs in the air, and relies on ‘a presumption about the latent protestantism’ of the hearer. It might have been someone commenting on Barth. In other words, we presume we know what we mean by the word and that this is the meaning that is inherently accessible and commonly held.
In the tensions of today’s world, of course, talk of my God or yours is likely to be taken as doing a disservice to the godness of God. As if it subjectivised and relativised the word. And of course it is a form of speech gaining frequency in the emergent world. I think it just personalises the term, and acts as a useful counter to the presumption. Funny how a tiny thing like a pronoun has the potential to change the nature of discourse. So, when I speak of my God, in postmodernity, moderns will think that I am not talking about God at all, when in fact what I am saying is that this is something that I believe or think or have understood about the godness of God.
Other cultures, even today, speak differently. I’ve heard many believers in the East, especially Indian Christians talk quite naturally in terms like ‘I live to serve the God’. Although I have no idea if the definite article (or perhaps the singular noun) represents some sort of resistance against the Hindu pantheon.
There’s a game I use sometimes with creative groups to draw out what people really think about God, and it can be incredibly revealing if people know they are safe with each other and can afford honesty. It’s called, simply, ‘My God is…” We sit in a circle and each takes their turn to preface a description with the phrase. Sometimes it ends in tears, more often in laughter, as one person ended a round that had had more than its share of orthodox and rather trite descriptions with “my God is… veeeery tricky!”