Graduates – I did not pick today’s scripture for you, it is the designated reading for this Sunday, but it seems to fit the faith journey on which you now embark. I know some of you have heard the question “if there is a God who loves us, why is there suffering?” Sometimes it is simply stated, “Where is God?” It is a question as old as faith. Abraham, Sara, Moses and Jesus all heard or asked this question at one time or another. The writers of the Psalms and the prophets frequently ask this question, “Where is God.” It is the question even children will ask.
One afternoon in Sunburst, Montana I was in the backyard swinging Erika. She was three. It was that afternoon that Erika innocently asked me, "Where is God?" In this world of grass and trees, of swings, mothers and fathers, of houses and churches and friends, where is God?
At three, I don't think Erika knew the depth of her question. I think she was concerned about where God lives. Being the daughter of a pastor she was continually hearing that God is around us all the time and yet she never saw God. Yet in me, it sparked the harder and deeper question. As we become adults we learn in hard ways the suffering life holds and the innocent question of a child becomes the consuming question of our souls.
When we have pain or hear of the pain of others we ask, “Where is God?” I listen to National Public Radio and I hear about the lives of Russians near the old uranium mines. I hear how their cancer and the cancer of their children is three times as high as the surrounding region. I hear how they suffer disease and how since the fall of the Soviet Union they suffer such poverty that if the mines were again open they would go back. Children talk of scraping salvageable uranium from nuclear waste. Parents talk of how vodka could wash the nuclear poison from their systems, or how they had become used to radiation in the same way they were used to the cold. Where is God?
I hear the news of Darfur, of Iraq, of Afghanistan, of Palestine and wonder “Where is God.” I hear the stories of hungry and abused children, of children kidnapped, sexually abused and drugged as they are conscripted as infant soldiers and wonder “Where is God?” I see children die of preventable or unexplainable diseases, die of the violent reaction of strangers to fear, die of unnecessary starvation, and I wonder “Where is God?”
As graduates now fully pursuing an adult life, you will be confronted with the question “Where is God?” You will have wonderful times but because it is the nature of life, you will also know suffering; the suffering of others, the suffering of those you love and those you have never met; and you will know your own suffering in wounded and broken relationships, in the diseases of the body, the mind, and the soul and you will wonder “Where is God?”
It is the question the disciples ask as Jesus prepares them for his coming death. Philip and the others are afraid of what is next. When the fleshly Jesus is gone will God be gone as well? If they could only see God then they could believe and have confidence for all the tomorrows.
Jesus is telling them that they do not need to be afraid of life, that God can be trusted; that God, as they know God in him, can be the confidence necessary for courage; that God has a place for each of them and for all the children, that God will show them the way and give them what they need for truth and for life. Jesus tells them that they have seen him and seeing him they have seen God. He is saying that the love that is manifest in his teaching and his works are the presence of God with them. And that if they only trust this unity with the Father to be true for them they will do even greater works than he has done.
It is hard to trust this answer. We are people of the flesh and we want to see and know in the flesh. The whole “God is with us” thing seems too ephemeral, to other worldly to trust.
So many, if not most, adults try to run from suffering. They bury themselves in relationships hoping that if they love hard enough and are loved hard enough suffering will pass them by. But suffering is not escaped in relationships. You already know this. Even the best of our human love is broken.
Many adults try to bury their fears in work hoping that if they work hard enough, make enough money, achieve enough recognition, earn a solid place in the company then they need not be afraid. But you already know that there is no permanent security in work. Most of you will know at least 5 careers. Our lives are vulnerable to poverty, homelessness and a loss of meaning.
Some of us will attempt to hide from fear with a bottle, or a pill, or hyper-volunteerism. But these too fail us. The question of "Where is God" will not go away. Written into the scripts of our souls is the desire to see Abba, to know Abba and to rest in Abba's arms as a child rests in the arms of her mother. If we could have this thing, Philip says, "Then we shall be satisfied." If only we knew where God was and we could see God then we would be both full and safe.
A long time ago a young man committed his life to seeing God. He became a professional religious, spent long times meditating, reading scripture, listening to the teachers and fasting. Daily he prayed that he might see God. But there was no seeing and his heart was heavy with fear. The young man heard of a wise man that lived far away and high upon a mountain and so the young man made a pilgrimage to ask the wise man where he might find God.
The journey took days and months and passed through cities, villages and farms before going into the wilderness. The path became almost impossible to see and many times the young man thought he was lost, but he continued onward, drawn by the desire to see God.
Finally, climbing the last mountain he found the wise man. Bowing down in respect he asked, "Great teacher, I come with a question that haunts my life and I cannot be satisfied until I know the answer."
The wise man nodded and then asked, "How long, my child have you been traveling with your question?"
"Months and years father."
"And my child, did you see God on your journey?"
"No father, I did not and that is what burdens my heart."
"Then you are a blind child indeed."
"Father, I have traveled through cities, and villages and farms into the wilderness and now this mountain."
"And did you see God, my child?"
"No father, I did not."
"Then you are a blind child indeed."
"Father, I saw kings and peasants, I saw oxen and lamb, I saw wild beast and wheat fields, I saw streams, I saw cruelty and compassion, I saw feast and I saw famine. I saw the wedding celebrations of new love and I saw the funeral of a grandmother and her grandchild. But father, I did not see God."
"Do you see me my child?"
"Yes , father, I see you."
"And do you not see God?"
"No, father, I don't"
"Do you see yourself in the stream beside us?"
"Yes, father, I see myself."
And, my child, do you not see God?"
"No, father, I do not see God."
"Then you are a blind child indeed. Before this moment or any moment; before there was this place or any place; before earth or star; before good or evil; beauty or beast; before love was a feast or hunger among us; before all things in the timeless age of no-thing, of nothing; there was but one voice calling. Calling to the nothing to become something; calling to the no-place to become some place; calling beauty from chaos, calling compassion from wounds; calling all creation into being, calling us into being. It was the voice of Abba, desiring to create wonder and love, desiring a companion in time and in space."
"You are that time and you are that space. I am that time and space. The stream, the mountain, the wilderness and the wild beast, the wheat and the grape, the child and her grandmother, the bride and her groom, the farm, the village and the city, are that time and that space.
"It was Abba who called the void to become and the void responded by banging into being. This time and this space, every time and every space, is the flesh of God's desire among us.
"Look upon this blade of grass my child. Look hard into it and see the rain and soil of which the sun made life. Look hard into it and see the birth of a planet and the birth of a sun. Look even harder and see the dying of a nova and the birth of a galaxy. Look now far into the past of this blade and see the beginnings of the cosmos in a blinding explosion. And if you will look just beyond the explosion, you will see the face of the one who called all things to be. Do you see it, my child?"
"Yes, father, I see it."
"And what is the name of the face you see?"
"Its name, father, is Abba. And there is another name, father, it is love. Abba is love, all love, life's love, in joy and sorrow love, in harvest, in dance, in poem, in romance, in you, in me, in all, love."
Erika asked, "Where is God?" I hesitated and then I asked her, "Where is God, Erika?" All three years of her looked at me. She pointed to her heart and said, "Here." And then, having seen God, we returned to her swinging.
I say to you what Jesus said to his disciples. As you face new challenges of life, both great joys and great sorrows, do not be afraid, God is and will be with you and by the Holy Spirit will give you peace. As you leave this place to take your place in the world, and as you rejoice in joy and weep in sorrow remember what Erika knows for it is the truth that will both set you free to live and comfort you in the anguish of living. God is here. God is in our hearts and in our minds, God is in our souls and in the soul of the other, God is in the blade of grass and the creation of the universe. God is become flesh in Jesus and in us as we share life. If Philip would but look at the love given, would but trust in that love as the very face of God, then he would have no fear for what comes with the death of his Lord, but would trust that Abba, who has called us and all creation from nothing will always be with us, calling our souls to the next adventure. Where is God? God is here, in the many ways we are loved and we love.
Shalom and Amen.