Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost – Year B
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Let us pray: We give thanks, O God, for your presence in our lives wherever we go and for people in our community who bear your presence to us. In turning us toward you, O God, turn us toward one another. Amen.
The most basic theological question, the question that one can ask in any situation – whether it is a situation that confronts us in our daily lives, a situation described by a passage of scripture, discussion of a movie recently viewed at the local cinema, or a faith-based book club, is this: Where is God in all of this? In fact, one might suggest that this is the question which lies at the heart of every book to be found at least in a theological library. Whether it is expressly asked or simply a backdrop to my preparation it is the question which guides me in the writing of my weekly reflections and which drives our daily and weekly faith lives. Sometimes we live our lives as people questing for answers to the question, and sometimes we live our lives in gratitude because the answer has been answered for us in some way, whether it be an answer that is transcendentally transforming or in simple reassurance.
Sometimes the question is answered easily with deep assurance. Other times the question leads us on a possibly disturbing search within our souls accompanied by periods of doubt and much anguish. The simple answer that God is always with us does not satisfy these times of trial, heartache and tragedy. We need to find answers that speak more deeply to us, and which satisfy us in ways that cannot be addressed by one line responses and uncomplicated analysis.
Also sometimes the question, “Where is God in all of this?” is a head question. The answer is sought intellectually perhaps through research in those same theological libraries I alluded to a moment ago. Other times, probably more often, the question is a heart question – answered in part by the same kind of research, but also in times of contemplation, communion with other people of faith, and openness to the connections which lead us to experiences of the divine presence in our lives.
For people of faith, it could be argued that the most basic question is also the most important question. If it is our intention as God's people to live in God's way, then it follows that we must continually be asking the question “Where is God in all of this?” in order to direct our feet along the path we want to travel. Thus it can also be argued that the most important thing is to ask the most important question and then guide our lives by the answers we discern.
A pharisee came to Jesus – having heard and experienced just how wise and insightful Jesus was in answering questions – presumably variations of that most basic question, “Where is God in all of this?” and asked this: What's the most important thing we should do in our lives? As we heard, Jesus' answer was this: Love God fully and love your neighbour as yourself. Mark tells us that the answer was so sharp, so riveting, so deeply moving, so clearly to the point that the pharisee was immediately impressed and everyone else was effectively silenced.
But what about the answer Jesus gave. How does it answer the question? As the pharisee responded, it was an answer that spoke of the oneness of God, the presence of God – in the universe transcendently and immanently – God out there, everywhere and God in here, deeply and inseparably – closer than our skin and more a part of us than the air we breathe. Succinct though it may be, this is not a response that is simple or uncomplicated. Obviously those who were there in the presence of this exchange between the pharisee and Jesus did not think so anyway, if Mark can be believed and the crowd was hushed into an impressed silence by the sheer depth of meaning presented by the conversation.
To ask the question, “Where is God in all of this?” and then to follow the answers we discern, can clearly be transformational. That's the message of the story from the Hebrew Bible today. At one level, this does not appear to be a story about God at all. Even though God is mentioned, God appears to be not here, but there. God was present back in the homeland of Naomi and God appeared in the future for Ruth and Orpah. God is to be sought somewhere else – geographically (back in Judah) or chronologicaly (at some point in the future.) In the present, however it's a story about cross-cultural relationships, a story about intercultural marriage, family tragedy and ultimately a story about loyalty. But it is a story from scripture, so by definition it must also be a story that begs the question, “Where is God in all of this?” Naomi, we know, must have asked the question – in dealing with the death of her husband, Elimelech and then even more difficult the death of her sons. I say more difficult for in some way we prepare for the death of a partner, hard as that can be, but rarely do we prepare for the death of our children. An answer came to her that one part of dealing with her grief would be to return to her homeland – that's where God's presence was to be found for her. But that also meant breaking ties with her daughters-in-law. God would provide for them in the future. They should stay in their own homeland and find husbands there. Clearly God's presence is closely tied to homeland – God was in Judah for Naomi and God was in Moab for Ruth and Orpah. This is the transcendental God – God out there – the God who visits us and brings blessing upon us. But their understanding of God is transformed in the relationship between Naomi and Ruth. God is also in here. God crosses boundaries of culture. Yes, God can be found in Judah and in Moab, but God can also be found in the relationships that we forge, by the understandings we develop, by the experiences we share in common. No doubt a deep relationship existed between Naomi and her daughters-in-law. They shared a common story, a common experience, a common tragedy. They had all experienced the death of a spouse – a tragedy compounded by the place women were confined to in the social system of the day. It is no coincidence that widows are most often cited as the people most in need in the Hebrew bible. Not only did these three women lose a marriage partner, but they also lost their place in society. Not a just situation to be sure, but a real one all the same.
And so this story of loyalty – which at once tells a story about companionship between women of different cultures, but who share a common experience, and kindred woman spirit becomes also a story about the loyalty of God. The relationship between Ruth and Naomi becomes a metaphor for us and our relationship with each other as relationships with God. This isn't just a friendship that draws us together in community, this is a relationship with God – immanent God, the part of God that God invests in each of us as divinely blessed beings. So, when we sing Wherever You May Go I Will Follow we aren't just singing about Naomi and Ruth, we are singing about our relationship with God. I am correct am I not? What image was going through your mind as the choir sang those words a few minutes ago? Perhaps you didn't think about it at the time, but can you recall what was going through your mind? Was it a prayer offered by a member of the body of Christ? Was it a prayer to God, a promise of loyalty, a promise to live your life as an answer to love God fully and love our neighbours as ourselves.
Sometimes God is pleased to answer that important question, “Where is God in all of this?” without any work on our part. God simply puts the answer there and we can do no other but walk the path and be transformed. Thanks be to God. Amen.