When I was very young my family lived in the sticks of Arkansas and had no running water. During the summer we would take a bath in a galvanized-tin “bathtub” on the front porch since we had no neighbors nearby. One day when a long dry spell in the weather was breaking and it was beginning to sprinkle, a sister of mine who had a more active imagination than I did innocently noted,“God is pouring his bath water out.” Neither of us took this literally but the image has always stuck in my mind. And I’ve always regretted not having become pompous at that time for I would have reminded her that God does not get dirty and does not need to take a bath. Furthermore, I would have dismissed the notion that Jesus walked around heaven with a baby sheep under one arm and a lightning bolt under the other.
Human imagination is a very important dimension of our heart and is critical in our religious experience. Without it we are left with sterile cognitive images of our Source and it reveals just how sterile and barren our heart is for the “heart” is more than a bunch of ideas floating around in our head. And I find it very interesting currently how that many Christians who deny the “imaginary” nature of their Friend have now voted with great passion for someone who has, and is expressing the part of their imagination than they have never acknowledged. For, imagination does include unsavory “stuff” and it is our fear of this forbidden material that deters us from utilizing the “mind’s eye.” In Donald Trump all Americans need to consider, “Out of the abundance of our heart our mouth now speaketh,” to paraphrase Jesus.
Poet John Masefield wrote a sonnet that reveals so much about the role imagination has in our ideological formulations of God:
How many ways, how many different times
The tiger mind has clutched at what it sought,
Only to prove supposed virtues crimes,
The imagined godhead but a form of thought.
How many restless brains have wrought and schemed,
Padding their cage, or built, or brought to law,
Made in outlasting brass the something dreamed,
Only to prove itself the things held in awe.