My letter of resignation to God.

This morning, I was walking and thinking about God. 

At that point, I was also thinking about some of the questions some of the young adults have been sharing, that is, their struggles in the faith and with organised religion. 

So, mischievously, I thought to myself this: what if I wrote a letter of resignation to God, as if He was the CEO of the universe and I was just one of His employees.

What would I write about then? 

Maybe, this is how the letter will turn out...and buckle up, it is written tongue-in-cheek (that is, to be read with a pinch of salt).

Dear God, how are you? I guess you are fine? But I really don’t want to presume too much. Who am I anyway, right? Anyway, I don’t want to make this awkward but here’s my letter of resignation. I am resigning because I don’t feel part of this organisation anymore. 

I know there is no official appointment to join this organisation. I did not sign any employment contract. Neither was I given a formal title nor did we discuss the remuneration terms of employment. 

My god, I don’t even know how many weeks of advance notice I am supposed to give you or your HR department for my departure. 

But I think I can stay for a while to hand over to the next guy you will be employing. The last thing I want to do is to leave without proper accounting. So, I return to my reason for resigning. 

As I’d said earlier, I am resigning because I do not feel like I am part of this organisation. It has definitely changed quite a lot since the time your son ran it on earth. 

Now, I know I was not there when he ran it, that was many many years ago. But I joined your organisation because of him. I heard and read so much about him that I thought at that time, it made a lot of sense to give of myself working for him. 

To be honest, it was not strictly a cost-benefit analysis when I joined. It was a heart decision. In a nutshell, I felt that for me to be hired is him, and to retire is gain. 

Not so much in economic terms mind you, but much more in a heart that is always full, doing things that made a difference and living a life pursuing a purpose that is beyond this world.

Here, I recall what was told to me when I was first interviewed. It was said that in this organisation, I will know the truth and it will set me free. I thought at that time, it was really cool to know the truth and experience the freedom that comes with it. 

Most time, in my experiences, most recruiting organisations just tell you the bottomline, that is, the pay and the job scope together with the working hours. Then, I am shortlisted by them with an impersonal phone call and expected to start work at a stipulated date. Not much talk about truth, freedom and the purpose that comes with it. 

So, that was the clincher for me. Your son made it almost irresistible for me to join the organisation. I read that he led by example, taught in a very personal manner, and always had the organisational mission at heart. 

I therefore joined with little reservation and looked forward to an empowering working environment with wonderful like-minded colleagues who would follow in your son’s footsteps. 

I told myself, what could go wrong right?

But I was soon to be disappointed because things are very different on the ground. Sometimes I felt as if there was a change in management or worse, hostile takeover, and none of us were given the memo in advance. 

As the organization got bigger, the human leadership got even more ambitious. Rules were made to ensure that it grows at all costs. Financial concerns became top priority. Membership became an obsession. And the result of that is to create as many programs as possible to appease the members, to keep the numbers coming. 

From a qualitative experience, the focus eventually turned into a quantitative investment. You can say that it’s like an inverse Parable of the Sower, and the fruit is not so much that of the Spirit, but the flesh. 

So, it has become too human and too serpentine-like. The rules and regulations pile up and there is no more room for personal growth, just organisational expansion. Evangelism is a cover word for filling the pews. Eternal hell is used to remind people to toe the line. And money is still an issue with suppressed envy against other organisations that are doing well. 

For the above reason, I am rendering my resignation. Thanks sir for a wonderful experience no less. It has been enriching while it lasts. 

Signing off.

Mike.

...and in my overly contrived universe, guess what, God answers. That’s the point right? You don’t expect me to end with my letter of resignation right? 

But let me warn you, it is still from my human perspective (mine), and I can’t escape from that. So, again, read it with a pinch of salt...

Dear son, I have read your letter of resignation and I will accept it on the condition that you take the time to answer this question. Once you have found the answer and have peace about it, and if you still want to leave, then you may do so as you please. 

Here is the question: Do you think your experience now is any different from my son’s experience then?

He came at a time when the world wanted him dead. He had to be hidden from view because of it. He was a fugitive of the government but love protected him from harm. 

For 30 years, he lived the most ordinary life. He did his part with quiet resolve. He lived in a community just like yours, with friends and family, colleagues and leaders. His community was far from perfect with the usual conflicts, the social and economic inequality and the rampant exploitations. 

Yet, he grew up well within the community he was given unto. He overcame because love overcomes. 

His ministry started when he was 30. But it was not off to a smooth start. It ended even worse minus the resurrection of course. 

The first test of his ministry was being hurled into a god-forsaken wilderness. For 40 days, he was denied everything you often take for granted now. He nevertheless went through it and proved that love never fails. 

In the three years of his ministry, he had seen it all, that is, the worst that human kind has to offer. He was scorned, accused of, misunderstood, labelled as a false prophet, rejected, banished, treated with contempt, framed, whipped, tortured, nailed, mocked, speared, and hanged. 

Jesus never had a home. He was invited to many but he lived with his disciples, depending on the kindness and gratitude of others, and interacted with anyone who is anyone along his path. He spoke and ministered to all and sundry, transformed lives, touched their souls and gave them a hope beyond this world. 

Jesus came into a cruel world, an indifferent world, a world that only cared for its own flourish, its own interest and successes. 

But he changed all that, he stood the test of time and started a resilient counterculture that broke down walls, lifted the downcast, opened hearts, instilled the joy of service, empowered spirit, and strengthened faith. His greatest gift was love - a love that went all the way and changed everyone along the way.

So, you are right, Mike, to be disappointed with the people in the organization, their rules, their obsession, their ambition. That’s how you feel. But you are wrong to expect that during Jesus’ time, it was any different. It was not. It was never intended that way. 

Never forget that a choice created this world, a conscious choice, and I would never want it any other way. 

If you look at the whole human timescale, from beginning to the coming end, the only other thing that stands sovereign (apart from my sovereignty) is autonomy, human autonomy. 

I made that choice. Jesus made his choice. And now, you claim you have made yours with this letter. 

Son, I have received millions of such letters since I could remember and everyone of them is the same...they are, in essence, looking for someone to make that choice for them. 

You may think you have made up your mind to tender this letter to me. You may think it was a choice, a conscious choice. But the reality is, the choice you have made is more a push from circumstances as you see it rather than a resolve of the heart. It may be a conscious choice, but not a conscientious one. 

If Jesus had made his choice the way you made yours, he would have surrendered to Pilate, accepted a truce with the Roman authorities, and kept Barabbas to languish in prison. No one would have heard of Calvary, and the Cross, and not the tomb, would be empty. 

His choice was made from the blood that he sweat out at Gethsemane. It was therefore not made lightly. Neither was it made from the undertow of circumstances or convenience. 

It was however made from the heart that overcame all circumstances. And that is why when he gave it all at Calvary, he turned the doubts of his mockers who clamoured for his death to secret admiration, and that is when a centurion, facing him after he gave his last breath, uttered beneath his own breath: “Truly this man was God’s son”. 

Indeed, it was a dying breath in exchange for living one. 

That’s authenticity my son. That is living to the end, to the fullest, and never giving up on the mission at hand. 

They are all choices made by Jesus and they are choices that led him to a convicted and desired end. That is what I mean by human autonomy, choices made to fulfilment, choices made to complete the race with enduring faithfulness.

So, I return to the question: Do you think your experience now is any different from my son’s experience then?

No, it’s definitely not. But what made the difference? 

Mike, the difference is a choice committed to lives and not systems. In other words, it is a choice committed to individuals and not to the crowd, to transformation and not to regulation. 

My beloved Son did not contend with the system, however organised or self-serving it was. He instead ministered to lives, he interacted with the people, not programs, and he bent souls for change, not rules for self. 

He saw a need, a cry for help, a yearning for meaning, and he went in to offer hope, unconditional love and faith to overcome. That is what made a difference, an enduring difference. 

I will end here my son. Let me say that I am not here to dissuade you. It may seem that way, but my intended goal is for you to take responsibility for your choices, to live authentically, not pretentiously. 

So, I will leave things to you Mike. Your letter is still on the table. I have not accepted it. You decide. 

Signed off.

Father.