74: Maybe God Is Bad at Math
A few weeks ago, we enjoyed some time away at the beach with my family. While I spent plenty of that time playing in the sun, sand, and waves, I also spent a pretty significant chunk of it playing age-appropriate board games with my three-year-old nephew.
We played lots of Go Fish, Candy Land, and a new-to-me game called Count Your Chickens. If you haven’t heard of it, the basic premise of the game, from the official description, is this:
“The baby chicks have flown the coop and Mama Hen needs help to bring them back. Spin and count numbers to travel and collect chicks while working together. Gather all the chicks [in the Hen House before Mama Hen gets home] and everyone wins!”
Needless to say, the game involved a lot of counting. Counting how many places on the board you get to move ahead; how many chicks you get to collect and put in the Hen House; and how many other players get to take their turn before it’s your turn again. It’s a great way for kids to learn about cooperation and it’s a great way for kids to practice counting their numbers.
For better or for worse, counting is a skill they will need. It’s a skill we all continue to hone, develop and depend on throughout our lives, whether we’re aware of it or not. We start with counting to 10, then 20, then maybe all the way to 100. We might even give counting backwards a try. But it seems at some point, people must have gotten bored with just counting forwards and backwards or something, so they decided to start experimenting with all sorts of much more complicated forms of counting: addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, fractions, statistics and mysterious equations. In other words, math.
I don’t know if that’s actually how it all went down, but I will say I wish I could have just stuck with basic counting. I am not and have never been what some might call a “math” person. My favorite subjects in school were always English and History, along with the occasional nod to Science, especially if the topic of study had something to do with animals. But my least favorite subject, by far, was always math. I made sure to take the minimum requirement of math classes in high school and college, and to this day, I am grateful for calculators and friends who easily understand how numbers work. My brain just refuses to function that way but I sure am glad others have the gift.
Even though I’m not good at it, I know math is meant to be helpful. It helps us balance and budget and tip and weigh our options. In many ways, when understood correctly, it helps us make sense of things and helps us live as good stewards. There is value in thinking mathematically.
Last summer, I took a class that exposed me to the thoughts and writings of many historical figures of the Church—desert fathers and mothers and mystics and saints I’d never really read before. One of them was St. Therese of Lisieux. She was born in 1873, died from an illness at the age of 24, and was declared a saint in 1925. Her writing and ministry often focused on small, ordinary acts of faith, earning her the nickname, “The Little Flower.” I immediately connected with her writing and enjoyed learning more about her life and contributions to the Church.
But one thing I didn’t know and learned about her recently, while listening to an interview with Franciscan priest and writer Richard Rohr (I’ll link to the interview in the show notes), is that St. Therese was convinced God was bad at math. She once wrote something along these lines:
“God knows all the sciences but there’s one God does not know; God does not know mathematics.”
Lately, I’ve been considering that maybe The Little Flower was right; maybe God is bad at math, at least as we tend to approach it.
I’m not saying God doesn’t understand math, but it does seem that God often chooses not to practice it the way we tend to. Yes, numbers are important to God and several hold significance in Scripture. And yes, God counts and knows each hair on our head, each grain of sand on the shore, and every tear that drops from our eyes. And yes, God deeply cares about and pursues what is just and right. And yes, it’s true that God has gifted many people with the ability to faithfully work with numbers. But when it comes to the heart of God, God doesn’t always stick to the understood rules of a mathematical equation. It seems counting and math work differently in the Kingdom of God.
For us, our lives are subtly filled with counting, measuring, weighing, earning, and deciding who is deserving.
We try to determine our worth by counting the dollars in our bank account; the number on the scale; the “likes” on social media; the accomplishments listed on a resume.
We often default to division.
We’re quick to notice how others don’t measure up.
We are keenly aware of all the ways we fall short ourselves.
We operate from a place of scarcity, holding tightly to what we think is ours, fearing that we won’t have enough.
We’re generous when it’s convenient.
We seek revenge and withhold forgiveness because, after all, the ledger needs to be balanced.
We try to earn our seat at the table.
Sometimes, this math, this counting, even spills over into our faith. We think of life as an equation; if we show our work and solve it correctly, God will give us the desired result. If we don’t, God won’t. So when the answer isn’t what we hoped it would be, or the solution isn’t what we expected, we assume we must be getting it wrong.
But then there’s math in God’s kingdom, where the numbers rarely add up, at least the way we think they should.
In God’s kingdom, two fish and five loaves can feed thousands.
In God’s kingdom, everyone earns the same wage.
In God’s kingdom, the poor are called blessed.
In God’s kingdom, one is greater than 99.
In God’s kingdom, we turn the other cheek and go the second mile.
In God’s kingdom, we only need enough for today and there is plenty to go around.
In God’s kingdom, 7 x 70 = Infinity
In God’s kingdom, two pennies are worth more than a sizable offering.
In God’s kingdom, debts are forgiven, grace and mercy abound, and addition looks a lot like subtraction.
In God’s kingdom, we count the cost and choose love anyway.
In God’s kingdom, God rewrites the equation and the answer is far greater than we could possibly ask or imagine.
So today, if it feels like things just aren’t adding up, remember that God might be bad at math. And that might be very good news. As we continue to invest in what matters, may we learn to count like God does.