Q&A: Dragging God into ‘couples counseling’ Robin Russell, Jul 1, 2009
PHOTO BY ADRIEN McKECHNIE
Susan Isaacs
When she turned 40, comedian, writer and actress Susan E. Isaacs found herself with no job, no boyfriend and no home. She blamed God.
Her often witty and sometimes poignant book, Angry Conversations with God: A Snarky but Authentic Spiritual Memoir (FaithWords, 2009), was originally staged as a solo show in New York and Los Angeles.
Ms. Isaacs, an alumnus of the Groundlings comedy troupe and a veteran of several TV programs and movies, spoke recently with managing editor Robin Russell.
Why did you drag God into “couples counseling”? Back in 2000, I was in this sketch comedy group in New York, and I very snarkily wrote, “If this is a marriage, we need to go to counseling.” It was very fun, and people loved it.
And then when my life really did hit the bottom, I thought, “OK. If this is a marriage, I’m definitely not the favorite.” Here is the God that I’d spent my life trying to please, and he did that. I felt devastated. I felt like God hates me.
I went to see a Christian therapist. He was willing to let me sit there and use every curse word and say, “God’s totally trashed my life.” The first thing was forcing me to vocalize the God in my head, hear what he sounded like and then address that character. It was very hard, because obviously I did have a lot of legitimate beefs with things I had been taught. Like, if you’re single, you should be happy being single, and Jesus should be your mate. There’s nothing in the Bible that elevates singlehood to some ideal. It says, “It’s not good for man to be alone.”
Or the idea that, “If I do all the right things, I’ll be a successful actor.” Rather than, “If you want to be a successful actor, get your butt into acting class.” No one’s going to do this for you. I ultimately realized that underneath it all there was this expectation that if I did all these things, God would deliver to me the life I had specified.
You also write about being frustrated that “Nice Jesus” didn’t help you with your problems. How did that affect your perception of God? I gave Jesus a lot of my mother’s qualities: empathy, emotion—but never did anything to help. There was a bully at the school and no one did anything to stop her. The idea of turning the other cheek really got taken to an extreme. And I got from that, “OK, Jesus loves me, but he’s not going to help.”
When I got out of high school and discovered comedy—I loved Saturday Night Live, which was kind of raucous and inappropriate and funny—the church was kind of “Um, that’s not nice.” I found something that made me feel excited—being a comedian—but there was no place for that in the church. It’s funny to go back and read the Bible and see how much inappropriate stuff’s in there. We are so far removed from the context that we’ve missed all the great earthy Jewish humor in it!
You’re very candid in the book about relationships and sex—you call it “cheating on Jesus”—and alcohol addiction. Any negative feedback from Christian readers? Some people will read only the beginning and cut me off without having read the story. The whole point of the story is the character starts in one place and ends in another. I try to expose my own part in it while bringing up legitimate questions that everyone asks. There’s no “f” bomb in there, but I was so desperate and so hurt and so wounded—I don’t know what else you’d say. I had to speak in the vernacular of my world.
This started off as a solo show for people who are very Hollywood and suspicious of religion. So that actually won their trust. I needed to be honest. There are plenty of books out there about “stay pure.” Well, let me tell you what happens when you don’t. Let me be honest and show the effects of being in a relationship and being sexually active—and so many Christians are. No one wants to talk about affects of being bonded with somebody when you’re not married.
You’re also very transparent about your disappointments with God. What are you hearing from secular readers? What’s been really terrific is I think just about everybody who has been disillusioned with faith or walked away from it may see it on a bookshelf and be interested in it. I’ve gotten a lot of e-mails from people who have been outside the church or left it and said, “Wow. You really made me rethink my faith, and I want to give God a second chance.” And I’m like, “Wow. I can die happy. I’m doing what God called me to do.”
In the live show, in a completely secular context, I’ve had an amazing response from people. I’ve actually heard people sigh. There are plenty of Max Lucados and Joyce Meyers out there who are reaching people who are already inside. And that’s fine. But that’s not my audience. That’s not the people I care about. What about the people who would never darken the doorway of the church, who see us all as hypocrites? And we are hypocrites because it’s human nature to be hypocritical. I’ve had a great response from people like that.
At one point you were cautioned by some friends to give up trying to be an actress and a comedian. As a Christian in the arts, do you still hear criticism today? I don’t hear it as much as I did when I was younger, and I was naïve and listening to authority figures then. I’ve definitely been in situations where religion gets dissed and mocked. I feel grief. In a couple situations I feel, “Wow. This is dark. I don’t really want to be around this much.” And at same time, going into a place where other people wouldn’t go to be the gospel, just to be the presence of Jesus. I do experience the feeling of elation when I know that I am the salt and light, in terms of loving people and being friends and feeling comfortable.
I do feel the grief when I see Jesus misrepresented or see Christians mocked. But every single one of those people needs the voice of something different. I think that Bill Maher must have really been burned and really hurt. And now he’s got a following and he’s living off the accolades. But I’ve got to remember: You know, God loves Bill Maher. And I remember how patient [God] was with my dad. It doesn’t mean I have to sit down and take it.
You conclude that you married God “for the power and the glory. For the money.” What did you mean? I realized that even though it was a good thing to want to get the sin out of my life, or to get inner healing or to want a happy life, there had been the expectation that if I did everything God wanted me to do, he would give me the life I wanted. I had married him for the better, for the health—for all the good. That was a really, really tough, a very, very difficult realization. That God’s like, “This is a marriage, and guess what? You’re a gold digger. That’s all you wanted from me.”
Obviously, the dialogues with God are fictionalized, but I had to think about what God would say. And when God started speaking through me through my imagination, and I’m in the process of writing this and I started to cry. “Oh, my gosh. I had treated the lover of my soul, the creator of the universe—like a gopher!” How blasphemous. How awful. So how’s your “marriage” with God now? I’m not making a living as an actor. I have a popcorn commercial running, which is fantastic—Thank you, Jesus. I learned my husband is just a guy. He does things that enamor me and things that annoy me. But I feel a real sadness that I haven’t known him longer. Or when I look at my acting career or my writing career, I’m really sad at the opportunities that I’ve missed.
God has really redeemed so much of my life, and he’s given me a great opportunity to go and share that story with other people. I just love being able to make people laugh—it’s just such a great, great moment. Or to get them to the place where they’re sighing—it’s such a gift. And it’s a lot more fulfilling than doing a popcorn commercial. But one still has to pay the bills.
So it’s not like it’s all better. There were a lot of years that I missed out that are never coming back. There’s a real loss there that comes with the regrets and the mistakes. I have to die daily to those regrets, and say, “Even so, it is well with my soul.” We live in a fallen world, and there is going to be conflict the whole way, and we should not feel discouraged if there is.
It would be so great if you were a Methodist now and we could include that. [Laughs.] My husband and I go to an Episcopal Church. It’s just this little family church in South Pasadena. The Holy Spirit’s really at work there. I really missed the liturgy and the sacraments. I was done trying to be at a cool, young church with 20-something people because I wasn’t 20-something and I wasn’t cool. I would never feel at home not being part of a community. So we’ve just settled in to being old fogies.
Anything else you’d like to mention? I guess the most important thing I learned is that you can really be as honest with God as you need to be, and he can take it. You have to be prepared to let him give it back to you, ‘cause he will. I say that God torched my life and it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m really glad he didn’t allow that little house of cards to stand.