I spend much of my time in the basement of the men’s dorm, Sohlberg Hall. Unlike many pastors that I know I work where my congregation lives. This provides endless opportunities for meeting new students, plenty of awkward moments where I find myself in view or earshot of life in a men's dorm, as well as easy access to conversations of all kinds. One of the blessings of the casual context of my office is that it seems to ease the way into the difficult and deep conversations that in other contexts seem to take years to unfold.
One of the most common questions is “Where was God…” And you can fill in the blank “…. when my parents divorced?”, “…. when I was sexually abused?”, “…. when my dad died?” or “…..right now?” I know this is a question about God’s character for I have asked the question as well. What is implied when one asks about the proximity of God in any situation is that if he were close he is culpable for what happened. For if He were close and chose not to intervene how can this kind of god be trusted?
Not long ago a young woman found her way to my basement office and sunk down into one of my office chairs. She folded her arms across her body and kept her chin toward her chest and her gaze toward the floor. She jumped right into the deep end of the conversation and asked, “Where was God when I was a child and people took advantage of me?” As soon as she got the words out it was like a stopper had been pulled and a flood of tears followed.
I waited until the sobbing ebbed and the tears became droplets rather than torrents and then I ventured into these dangerous and difficult waters. Dangerous because I’m not sure I have the answers and difficult because I know that my lack of knowledge can so easily cause further damage to the one whom is already so wounded. “He was there.” I said and I could see the anger rising in her face. “Wait,” I said, “before you direct all that anger at God let me finish.” I ventured in deeper, even though theologically I was in way over my head. “It matters how you believe God was there. If you believe he was standing over in the corner of the room indifferent to your pain or if you believe he was standing on the side of your attacker teaching you a lesson then you rightfully question the character of God. But what if God was standing in front of your attacker begging him to stop but yet allowing him the same free will he allows all of us. Or what if God had his arms wrapped around you trying to shield your heart from the attack and what if God was weeping with you because his of his great sorrow over how broken it has all become?”
It matters how we believe God is or was present in any situation. And the conclusions we draw will radically affect how we engage both our relationship with God and the work to which we are called. This month in chapel we are talking about what it looks like to embrace and be embraced by the One who is called Sar Shalom, the Prince of Peace. We are digging deep into our identity as people who live in relationship with the God who wants things to be well but who have to live in a world where all is not well.
