- Joined
- Jun 12, 2015
- Messages
- 13,927
- Gender
- Male
- Religious Affiliation
- Lutheran
- Political Affiliation
- Conservative
- Marital Status
- Married
- Acceptance of the Trinity & Nicene Creed
- Yes
I teach the teen Sunday School class at my parish (mostly middle schoolers). One of the common questions of middle school theology (which is often more insightful and useful than post-doctoral theology) is: If God really exists, why doesn't he just show himself in some dramatic, undeniable way?
The argument usually goes something like this: Why doesn’t God rearrange the stars in such a way that they spell out “GOD IS” in the sky, maybe to the accompaniment of soaring celestial music? For some time, Presbyterian minister and theologian Frederick Buechner speculates, the houses of worship would overflow, wars would stop, and there would be “a good many tears of regret” (especially from liberal theologians and philosophers). And then one night, as Buechner continues to speculate, some Middle School boy turns to his father and says “So what if God exists? What difference does that make?” The message and music would continue for centuries to come, theorizes Buechner, but it would no longer make any difference. Indeed, Middle Schoolers everywhere would conclude that while God is – he is too other, too distant, too cold, too different to make any difference. At all. We live in the world, not above it. God may be the God of the stars - but so what? God may be able to rearrange celestial objects but evidently not earthly affairs, comments the pimpled-face kid. To the dismay of Dad. Buechner theorizes this has actually happened for millions of people. In a sense, they have seen the shining words at one point or another in their lives — knowing in their bones, deep in their soul, beyond all the doubts of philosophy, that GOD IS — but have eventually turned away with a shrug. They live extremely tiny lives focused on a time frame too small to be called tiny. They worry about finances, politics, health. They focus on what’s on TV and what’s happening with Paris Hilton and whether their deodorant is still working. They live as though their tiny lives on a tiny planet near an average sun in a galaxy of a hundred billion stars among 100 billion galaxies really matter to anyone. And making the only reasonable conclusion they can: they eventually conclude it doesn’t. They are stuck in Middle School (and everyone knows, that’s a terrible place to get stuck).
I’m not rebuking the question. We have every reason and right to question where God can be found in a world that offers nothing written in the sky. Where is God in the oppression of whole peoples by cruel and corrupt dictators who care nothing for the lives of the innocent? Or among more than 60 million refugees torn from their homes and forced to live as resented strangers? Where is God among the poor and hungry of the world? Where is God in the normal, often boring and tiny preoccupations of everyday life? In the anxiety and depression that stalk our days? Where is God in the death of a friend? In being betrayed by a friend? Where is God when the doctor says “cancer?”
Where is God in the lowly places, in the denial of lodging to a pregnant, poor, young woman? Where is God in the smell of hay and manure, in the pain of childbirth, in the smack on the bottom of an infant who begins to breathe and cry? How does this compare to “GOD IS” spelled out in the stars (complete with music from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)? By any standard, this is an odd scenario for the entrance of divinity — to an occupied country, forced to flee as a refugee, living in extreme poverty, eventually betrayed by a friend, tortured to within an inch of his life, and dying in utter abandonment and mockery. On a small planet. Near an average star. What a strange way of God saying “I AM.” To Middle Schoolers everywhere: What is God saying in this alternative message?
Of course, God is way-big. Of course, God is way-powerful. Of course, God is relevant to the vast realities of gravity and galaxies, of time and space. Sure God could rearrange the stars to say “GOD IS” but that would only declare His irrelevance, His otherness, His distance, cold as space. But God is the emmanuel – God WITH us, not God ABOVE us. God is precisely relevant to poverty, violence, and sickness… precisely relevant to the ordinary – because God is not a god of the stars but the God who is WITH us….. right here, right now, in the midst of it all. God did not eliminate all earthly realities when He entered (complete with sound track from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)…. He came INTO it. Silently. Personally. The Emmanuel. Born of an extremely poor sixteen-year-old girl (whose propriety was no doubt highly questioned) not quite yet married to a man without a steady job or much of anything for that matter. In a place where they were unwelcomed strangers, a town where no one gave them the time of day, much less a place to stay. God is relegated to a smelly barn, among the hay and manure. No doctor, no bed, no blanket, no friends, no nothing. On a cold, dark night. Unnoticed. Unwelcomed. God is wrapped up in strips of cloths and laid in a manger. To Middle Schoolers everywhere: What is God saying in this alternative message?
Of course, God is way-big. Of course, God is in the stars. Duh. But God reveals Himself not in the stars out there but in the realities right here. God is at Alpha-Centauri (yeah, I know, “so what?”) but God is with you when the cute boy laughs at you rather than hugs you. When your best “friend” posts horrible lies about you on his facebook page. When one’s husband announces he’s found another. When the doctor says the “c” word. God is the Emmanuel. God came into the realities that are real and really matter. God reveals Himself in poverty, persecution, injustice. God reveals Himself in the realities of homelessness and joblessness, of dictatorships and refugees, of friendlessness and hunger, of pain and death. God is not above all that…. God is in all that. He reveals himself not in the cold, distant stars (that hardly seem real and just don’t matter), He reveals Himself in a barn, as a baby, laying in a manger. Not God above it all but God in it all. To Middle Schoolers of all ages: What is God saying in the alternative message?
For countless millions who have seen it, this self-revelation, this divine message - it has become the dividing BC and AD of their lives. In our big stuff and our tiny stuff. It has provided courage and comfort, hope and strength in the midst of the ordinary, the unjust, even the unthinkable. It has given assurance that pain (of all kinds), while real, is not permanent - and ultimately, in the great scheme of things, not so important. And it has kindled and sustained an unlikely hope — where God is, love is. Not because of what is in the stars but Who is in our lives.
Merry Christmas!
- Josiah
The argument usually goes something like this: Why doesn’t God rearrange the stars in such a way that they spell out “GOD IS” in the sky, maybe to the accompaniment of soaring celestial music? For some time, Presbyterian minister and theologian Frederick Buechner speculates, the houses of worship would overflow, wars would stop, and there would be “a good many tears of regret” (especially from liberal theologians and philosophers). And then one night, as Buechner continues to speculate, some Middle School boy turns to his father and says “So what if God exists? What difference does that make?” The message and music would continue for centuries to come, theorizes Buechner, but it would no longer make any difference. Indeed, Middle Schoolers everywhere would conclude that while God is – he is too other, too distant, too cold, too different to make any difference. At all. We live in the world, not above it. God may be the God of the stars - but so what? God may be able to rearrange celestial objects but evidently not earthly affairs, comments the pimpled-face kid. To the dismay of Dad. Buechner theorizes this has actually happened for millions of people. In a sense, they have seen the shining words at one point or another in their lives — knowing in their bones, deep in their soul, beyond all the doubts of philosophy, that GOD IS — but have eventually turned away with a shrug. They live extremely tiny lives focused on a time frame too small to be called tiny. They worry about finances, politics, health. They focus on what’s on TV and what’s happening with Paris Hilton and whether their deodorant is still working. They live as though their tiny lives on a tiny planet near an average sun in a galaxy of a hundred billion stars among 100 billion galaxies really matter to anyone. And making the only reasonable conclusion they can: they eventually conclude it doesn’t. They are stuck in Middle School (and everyone knows, that’s a terrible place to get stuck).
I’m not rebuking the question. We have every reason and right to question where God can be found in a world that offers nothing written in the sky. Where is God in the oppression of whole peoples by cruel and corrupt dictators who care nothing for the lives of the innocent? Or among more than 60 million refugees torn from their homes and forced to live as resented strangers? Where is God among the poor and hungry of the world? Where is God in the normal, often boring and tiny preoccupations of everyday life? In the anxiety and depression that stalk our days? Where is God in the death of a friend? In being betrayed by a friend? Where is God when the doctor says “cancer?”
Where is God in the lowly places, in the denial of lodging to a pregnant, poor, young woman? Where is God in the smell of hay and manure, in the pain of childbirth, in the smack on the bottom of an infant who begins to breathe and cry? How does this compare to “GOD IS” spelled out in the stars (complete with music from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)? By any standard, this is an odd scenario for the entrance of divinity — to an occupied country, forced to flee as a refugee, living in extreme poverty, eventually betrayed by a friend, tortured to within an inch of his life, and dying in utter abandonment and mockery. On a small planet. Near an average star. What a strange way of God saying “I AM.” To Middle Schoolers everywhere: What is God saying in this alternative message?
Of course, God is way-big. Of course, God is way-powerful. Of course, God is relevant to the vast realities of gravity and galaxies, of time and space. Sure God could rearrange the stars to say “GOD IS” but that would only declare His irrelevance, His otherness, His distance, cold as space. But God is the emmanuel – God WITH us, not God ABOVE us. God is precisely relevant to poverty, violence, and sickness… precisely relevant to the ordinary – because God is not a god of the stars but the God who is WITH us….. right here, right now, in the midst of it all. God did not eliminate all earthly realities when He entered (complete with sound track from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir)…. He came INTO it. Silently. Personally. The Emmanuel. Born of an extremely poor sixteen-year-old girl (whose propriety was no doubt highly questioned) not quite yet married to a man without a steady job or much of anything for that matter. In a place where they were unwelcomed strangers, a town where no one gave them the time of day, much less a place to stay. God is relegated to a smelly barn, among the hay and manure. No doctor, no bed, no blanket, no friends, no nothing. On a cold, dark night. Unnoticed. Unwelcomed. God is wrapped up in strips of cloths and laid in a manger. To Middle Schoolers everywhere: What is God saying in this alternative message?
Of course, God is way-big. Of course, God is in the stars. Duh. But God reveals Himself not in the stars out there but in the realities right here. God is at Alpha-Centauri (yeah, I know, “so what?”) but God is with you when the cute boy laughs at you rather than hugs you. When your best “friend” posts horrible lies about you on his facebook page. When one’s husband announces he’s found another. When the doctor says the “c” word. God is the Emmanuel. God came into the realities that are real and really matter. God reveals Himself in poverty, persecution, injustice. God reveals Himself in the realities of homelessness and joblessness, of dictatorships and refugees, of friendlessness and hunger, of pain and death. God is not above all that…. God is in all that. He reveals himself not in the cold, distant stars (that hardly seem real and just don’t matter), He reveals Himself in a barn, as a baby, laying in a manger. Not God above it all but God in it all. To Middle Schoolers of all ages: What is God saying in the alternative message?
For countless millions who have seen it, this self-revelation, this divine message - it has become the dividing BC and AD of their lives. In our big stuff and our tiny stuff. It has provided courage and comfort, hope and strength in the midst of the ordinary, the unjust, even the unthinkable. It has given assurance that pain (of all kinds), while real, is not permanent - and ultimately, in the great scheme of things, not so important. And it has kindled and sustained an unlikely hope — where God is, love is. Not because of what is in the stars but Who is in our lives.
Merry Christmas!
- Josiah
