One of the things I like about the book of Job — in fact, the ONLY thing, really — is how God chews out Job’s friends at the end. He tells them that they have no clue how the Creator made the universe, and that their attempts at offering an explanation to Job for his travails was pretty much pathetic.

So in light of this story, it’s strange that so many people are absolutely certain about God and how He works. To some extent, I am one of them, since I am convinced of His love.

Still.

I had a dream the other night that hammered home how much I don’t know.

What happened is that I was protesting the Westboro Baptist folks. Then, God told me that I was exactly the same as they were. It was like I was looking at them, only it was really a mirror and I was seeing myself. The whole idea was that neither I nor the Westboro folks knew much of anything.

The other point that was embedded in this dream was that we are all one. Me and Fred Phelps — ONE.

When we commit violence against another, we are committing it against ourselves. Think about it. How much Fred must have hated himself.

Sometimes, it’s like I approach God as a hobby, hoping to become more proficient in time and learn completely what he is about — much like I might eventually become good enough at knitting to create an intricately cabled sweater. This is just not possible, though. Not knowing God to that extent, and in my case, probably not learning how to knit that well, either.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about some anger I have tucked away toward those people I perceive as blinding others to the Kingdom of Heaven. I’m thinking that God is telling me to drop the anger and just love them instead. Because they are me, and I am them, and God loves all of us.