A federal jury in Baltimore yesterday decided that the disruption of the funeral of a marine and the emotional harm that caused was worth close to $11 million.

While I am sensitive to how vulnerable people are when grieving for their loved ones, especially when they are taken violently and in their prime, I would normally think that $11 million is unreasonably excessive.

But this is Fred Phelps and his Westboro Baptist church that we're talking about here. The people who are so convinced that "God hates fags" that it's the name of their website. The people who think that our war dead is God punishing America for our tolerance of homosexuality. The people who, for months after Matthew Shepard's death, kept a running count of the "number of days Matthew has been burning in hell," accompanied by a picture of his head bobbing in animated flames and a soundtrack of anguished screams.

I visited their site more than once, repeatedly needing to convince myself of the reality of their existence. I could not (and still cannot) fathom the level of hatred that would motivate such behavior. How much time did it take to put that animation and sound together? How much energy does it take to be out there disrupting funerals day in and day out? I barely have the time and energy to pursue the things that I believe in, the things that I affirm. How could anyone sustain that much hatred/rejection/negation for that long? Is there space for anything else inside of them?

And I am flummoxed now by their response to the verdict. Phelps says, "It was a bunch of silly heads passing judgment on God." His daughter, Shirley Phelps-Roper (most of the "church members" are family) said, "You guys think you can change God?" How are they so certain that God is obsessed with sex as much as they obviously are? How are they so certain that God is so spiteful and petty? Even if I had proof of the existence of such a creature, I would not recognize it as "God."

Ann Lamott said, "You can be certain that you've created God in your own image when God hates all the same people you do." And I can think of no better illustration of this than Fred Phelps and his clan.