Where is God?

Last week was a tough week for America.  In the midst of planning, decorating, and anticipating a well-deserved mid-winter break, a man shattered our image of ourselves.  Of course, I don't know anyone directly impacted by last week's tragedy.  I don't know the victims or their families.  I don't know the gunman or his family.  I've never even been to Connecticut.

But none of that matters.  What happened in Newtown affected me.  Generally, Friday is my day off.  Depending on Myranda's schedule, my Fridays consist of helping her with a project or running errands.  Some weeks it's just Palynn and me.  Other other weeks Myranda is home with us.  Last Friday was a daddy-daughter day.  Just the two of us at home.  Maybe a little laundry...cook...and hopefully a nap before the other kids came home from school.  But then I saw my cousin's post on Facebook...another school shooting.

I turned on the news and unfortunately her post was right.  As I watched in horror, I felt the same emotions I had felt when other tragedies struck our country.  My stomach was in knots...I physically felt illness creeping over me.  But this time I felt something different too.  In the past, I never had to have any answers.  All I had to have was the questions.  But when you have the title "pastor", people look to you for answers.  Even as I was trying to process the evil that was unfolding 1,000 miles away, I knew that I would need to have something to offer people.

So for almost 48 hours I pondered how I would address this event with my congregation.  Should I ignore it and just preach what was prepared?  No, that was wrong and that's not what God was leading me to do.  Should I just scrap everything I had prepared?  No, that too was wrong.  The Spirit had led me through my study time and much of what I was going to say was even more appropriate than it was before.

So Sunday morning, I came into the office a little earlier than usual.  I quietly sat at my desk, just hoping to hear something...anything that would guide me.  As I sat there I remembered Psalm 139.  Now most people know the words of this Psalm that state "For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."  But that's not what I remembered on Sunday.  I remembered the words from the stanza before which states "Where can I go from your spirit?  Or where can I flee from your presence?  If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.  If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast."

And so when I addressed the tragedy with my church, I was thinking of those words.  According to the psalmist, God was there in Newtown.  His love flowed in the middle of the hate.  His protection was there even as innocent lives were lost.  His right hand held fast...  I'm not smart enough to have all the answers, but I do know that God was there.  That is the main message of Advent.  Come, God, live here with us.  Don't leave us alone.  Don't distance yourself from us because of our sin.  And God, because he is love, did just that.

Advent will turn into Christmas next week.  We will be reminded that Emmanuel, which means God with us, did that once and for all through Christ.  The rest of our lives will be lived in Advent II...waiting for the final consummation of God with us.  There will be other tragedies.  There will be war, famine, disease, and turmoil.  And yet, because of Advent I we do not fear because God is with us.  Until next time...O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.




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