Dear one,
 
Once again—and I trust that I’m not merely being repetitive—I find myself pondering that four-letter word: “good.” That is, because of a recent, difficult moment, I’ve had further opportunity to consider how we use that word culturally. For instance, regularly we say or hear: “She’s really a good person”; “it was a good day”; “he really is a good kid”; or, “they’re really good people.”
 
For a moment, if you’re willing, muse with me:
            When I/we observe our common or colloquial use of language, context and comparison play an important role. Thus, when I note that “she is really a good person,” it’s very likely that she has done something “less than good”; that she has traits that are less than pleasing; and/or that she is unexceptional in most every regard. Nonetheless, “she really is a good person.”             
 
            In this example, context is operative, if she did something wrong; but perhaps even more significant, a comparison or standard is implied. If what she did was “bad” or “wrong,” we must have a common understanding of “bad” and “wrong.” Likewise, we must have a common understanding of what constitutes a “good person” in contrast to a “bad person,” and then what is meant by using the intensifier “really.” It could be that with this intensifier we mean: “evidence to the contrary, she possesses positive attributes”; or, we might mean: “with regard to her goodness, she is exceptional.” 
            And then there is the expression or utterance (British? American?): “Good God.” Perhaps at one time these two words were a heartfelt, prayerful address indicating either thanksgiving or hope. But then, as contexts and/or comparisons have shifted, together these words have become commonplace or hackneyed (profane?), so that they become a throw-away exclamation—and virtually meaningless, apart from expressing some fundamental emotion: i.e. fear, disgust, or anger.
 
            If you’re still willing to muse with me, I’m not suggesting that the word “good” has little inherent meaning; that it is fully dependent upon its context or a comparative contrast; but I would encourage that we probe with one another, rather than assume that we know, what is meant by the word “good.” That is, when in conversation, we might ask: “What do you mean ‘she is really a good person’?” 
            Or, in this same regard and thinking culturally, what would it mean if I offered: “Well, you know, Adam and Eve were really good people”? What would it mean if I said: “Cain really was a good man”? Given these last two questions, you might respond: “Oh please, Stan, get serious!” And yet, I’m afraid that’s what we’ve done with the word “good”: it has little serious or substantive content. 
 
            Perhaps something similar occurred when a rich ruler approached Jesus: “Good teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” But Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me ‘good’? No one is ‘good’ except one: God.” (Mark 10:17).
 
            Culturally and conversationally, I wonder what might happen if “God” became the context and comparative contrast in our use of the word “good”?
 
Pondering,
Stan

Good God?

Good God?

Behind those visible realities we label “tragic” or “terrible” or “evil,” are other, invisible realities, which take root and emerge, sometimes slowly, amid the painful rubble: sympathy, humanitarian aid, altruism, sacrifice, and even love.