This past weekend, to mark my 66th birthday, I bought myself an online subscription to Bible Gateway — that way, I could follow their study program and read the entire Bible over the course of one year.

Initially, this felt like a good way to spend, what in all likelihood may be, my final year as an active college teacher.

As I began my reading, I discovered two very interesting things.

The first was my discovery that, as the Bible Gateway notes point out, translations of the Bible provide two distinct words with two distinct meanings to describe the character of the almighty god:  Lord and God.

Lord, I discovered, was the English translation of the proper name of the Bible’s divine almighty, commonly referred to as Yahweh or Jehovah — the former being an academic translation from the original ancient Hebrew, the latter being a Latinized translation. 

God, I discovered, was the English translation for the word Elohim, which roughly translates the Hebrew plural noun for gods.  

By using a plural to describe a singular, early Hebrews may have been attempting, at least linguistically, to combine the pagan polytheists’ panoply of gods into one singular almighty god.

Elohim, as opposed to Yahweh or Jehovah, expresses the oneness of many, suggesting that the supreme being, rather than being a distinct character, a divine persona among a cast of characters, is actually the oneness of all.

In the Tao te Ching, the Tao itself, the characterized divine persona, is specifically not a god. 

In fact, the Tao explicitly states that the Tao “is older than God.” 

In the Tao te Ching, the word God most likely reflects the names of Yahweh or Jehovah, suggesting that the Tao is more likely Elohim, the powerful oneness of all beings, both animate and inanimate. 

More interesting, however, is what I discovered after I had begun my reading.

Taking a break from the biblical text, I put on my shoes and went out for a walk around my San Francisco neighborhood.

Typically, on my daily walks, I pass by people on the sidewalks and am often disappointed by their seemingly intentional lack of connection.

Usually, when I approach another man walking toward me, I smile and nod to acknowledge his presence with a gesture of mutual respect.

In most cases, if not nearly all, the other man walks by without a reciprocal nod, without any acknowledgement — as if I am invisible, like a ghost from another century.

Usually, when I approach a woman walking toward me, I offer the same kind greeting and am regularly reciprocated with a disdainful look of fearful enmity – as if my masculine presence is something to despise.

But, on my first neighborhood walk after I had begun reading Genesis, I was pleasantly surprised when every man I passed on the sidewalk greeted me with a verbal hello — even before I had offered a smile and nod. 

This was the case with older men, younger men, even homeless men – all of different races.

When the one woman whom I passed, a young woman walking her dog, offered a smile and said hello, I was so stunned that I nearly got down on my knees and prayed a word of thanks.

Is this what happens when you “walk with God”?

In any event, I’m certainly grateful that the Tao had inspired me to buy that year-long subscription.

To that, I must say:   Hallelujah!