“Where Are You, God?” Sermon by Brian Adkins

Brian Adkins

Text: Isaiah 64:1-9

Given at Epworth UMC; 11/27/11

“Where are you, God?”

In our text today we find Hebrew exiles returning to Jerusalem after

their decades-long captivity in Babylon. For more than 50 years the

Israelites were exiled under the Babylonian Empire. But when the

Persians conquered the Babylonians, the Israelites were allowed to go

back to Jerusalem — if they wanted. The problem was, many of them had

grown comfortable where they were. After a generation, they had

settled down, had children, made lives for themselves in Babylon; and

they weren’t particularly interested in heading back. But this group -

this “remnant” – were ready to move. The writers of the Book of Isaiah

describe some of them as social outcasts: such as the eunuchs who had

served in the courts of the Babylonian king, who were suddenly

unemployed, and unpopular. Many among this group had been born and

raised in captivity, and knew only of Jerusalem through the songs of

their elders. Some of these travelers were genuinely excited to head

back to the promised land of their forebears; but some of them simply

had nowhere else to go.

Now, the last time we read about the Israelites entering the

‘Promised Land,’ they do so as an army, prepared to take the land

through conquest and genocide. But this time they look more like a

flock of mis-matched sheep. And their arrival in Jerusalem is, well…

anticlimactic. THIS is Jerusalem? THIS is God’s Holy city? THIS is the

place our elders sang about and cried over? But it’s a DUMP! We must

be in the wrong place. No… this is it. The realization begins to

sink in… this pile of rubble, over-run by weeds and inhabited by

foreigners, is the city of their ancestors, and now, their new home.

And they panic. Where are you GOD!? Why don’t you do the things you

used to do? The last few chapters of the Book of Isaiah record their

lamentations. They cry out to God to rend the Heavens, to make the

mountains crumble, to do something… anything. Give us a sign that

you’re here! *Crickets*

They’d all heard the stories of the miracle-working god of Israel.

The god who spoke from a burning bush, the god who parted the waters

for Moses to pass, the god of Jacob, Joseph, David. The one who

answered Elijah’s prayers. Where is that god? They’ve come all this

way on someone else’s word. They accepted someone else’s vision and

when they fail to see it, they are devastated. In their lament you can

hear their pain, disappointment, and yes, their shame. What have we

done? God has hidden God’s face from us. WHERE ARE YOU GOD? Why don’t

you do the things you used to do? I can imagine those Israelites

standing in the ruins of the temple, rats running around looking for

scraps, maybe a goat grazing in the courtyard. These travelers are

tired and hungry and now, disappointed. Hopeless, even.

The book of Isaiah speaks about gathering together the misfits and

the marginalized and bringing them together in god’s holy mountain. It

kind of reminds me of San Francisco. A couple of years ago, I was

working for the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Community Center in

San Francisco. Every week I saw young gay and transgender people

arriving from Kansas, Texas, Michigan. They came because they heard

that there was something here for them. San Francisco represented a

chance at new life, community, and a home. But the City rarely turned

out to be the Land of Oz they’d dreamt about. It is foggy and cold,

rents are sky-high, and yes, even in San Francisco, unemployment among

transgender people hovers around 45%. The harsh reality was more than

a disappointment. For this remnant, San Francisco was their last hope.

What now? WHERE ARE YOU GOD?

We live in an age in which the peddlers of prosperity gospel hawk

their “name-it, claim-it” message, even as homes are being foreclosed

and jobs are lost. And when miracles are not seen, victims often blame

themselves, or get angry with god. When we face foreclosure, or a

dreaded diagnosis, our struggles often leave us asking, WHERE ARE YOU

GOD? In the midst of political upheaval, financial distress, and

personal tragedy, we are a generation seeking God. We want to see the

miracles we’ve heard of, but many of us find that the ancient

interpretations don’t work for us anymore. It seems the only one

finding God in fires and earthquakes these days is Pat Robertson.

The book of Isaiah ends soon after the remnant’s arrival in

Jerusalem. We aren’t told exactly how they go about the work of

rebuilding and starting over. We just know that they did. Maybe they

realized that there was something miraculous in working together to

rebuild. Or maybe they found ways to connect with God in community.

Here at Epworth I hope you won’t be offended if I call you a motley

crew of misfits. That is part of your charm. But here, over the past

few months I have seen God working in this community as you love and

support one another. And that’s pretty miraculous. As you reach beyond

your walls to help others, you honor others and recognize that we are

all on a journey.

A few years ago, my father’s best friend Bill had a heart attack and

was rushed to a hospital about thirty miles away. Someone called my

dad and asked him to come. In his hurry to leave the house, dad

accidentally slipped on my size 12 shoes, instead of his size 9′s. He

was in the car and half-way down the road before he realized the

mistake so he just went on. He arrived at the hospital, ran clumsily

through the ER, and made it to Bill’s bedside… just moments after he

had passed away. Dad was devastated. WHERE ARE YOU GOD? You couldn’t

have kept Bill here for five more minutes?!

Dad stood in the doorway and wept. I know he wept because he called

me and I heard him crying. It’s an unsettling thing to hear your

father cry. It reminds you that your father is human and I think that

is uncomfortable. I don’t know why. But dad cried and I cried with

him. And then, for some reason dad started to chuckle. And then to

laugh out loud. You see, standing there with his head bowed and tears

flowing, dad had caught a glimpse of the clown shoes on his feet. And

he was able to laugh. For dad, there was God in the moment of great

despair, he found a reason to smile. That was a miracle in itself.

My grandmother was a deeply spiritual woman. Sometimes when she would

pray for me, she’d say things like, “Brian, God wants you to eat more

yogurt. It’s good for you.” I would look at her like she was crazy,

but she was so cute and so sincere… But despite her experience with

God, she never tried to force her views on me. She always said,

“You’ve got to seek God for yourself. And then you’ll know for

yourself and not from another. And whatever anyone says to you they

can challenge your theology, or argue with your reasoning, but they

can’t touch your experience. It’s your own.” The poet John Squadra put

it this way:

“If someone says, “To be enlightened you must fast and pray all

night.” Have dinner and God to bed. If you see a sign, ‘this way to

salvation.’ run the other way. If someone says, ‘this book is the

truth, you can buy it from me..’ take your money and buy grapes and

roses. If someone says, ‘he’s talking tonight, thousands will be

saved,’ God for a walk… listen to the birds and watch the clouds,

and leave your backpack, your bible and your buddha under a tree and

hope they will be gone when you return. Where you are going you can’t

carry anything, not even your name. If there is logic in the above, be

afraid, it’s a lie. But if you FEEL something in your chest, as

beautiful as the grass beneath your feet, be grateful… open your

arms and forget everything.”

Maybe some of us find ourselves growing comfortable in exile. Or

maybe we’re like the remnant returning to Israel, standing among the

rubble of our dreams and expectations. Asking WHERE ARE YOU GOD?

Wishing to see the things we’ve heard about. Today is the beginning of

Advent the Season of preparation. This is the season when together

we seek “Emmanuel,” God with us. This is the season when God is going

to do something new. Maybe we will find God in momentary laughter, in

a song that lifts our spirits. God has always found creative ways to

show up even as a baby in a cow trough. We can’t find until we seek.

If in this season we believe God hiding God’s face, then consider it

an invitation to a divinely-inspired game of Hide-and-Seek. Tag,

you’re it.

Amen.

“Where Are You, God?” Sermon by Brian Adkins

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