Sunday, August 26, 2018

Where Does God Live?



Scriptures:            1 Kings 8:1, 6, 9-13, 22-30, 41-43    Psalm 34:15-22
                              Ephesians 6:10-20                              John 6:56-69




In Paul Schrader’s recent movie “First Reformed” – I should mention that Paul Schrader, who grew up in the Dutch Reformed Church and studied at Calvin College, is famous for writing the screenplays of several Martin Scorcese movies of many years ago such as Taxi Driver and Raging Bull – in Schrader’s latest movie, which he wrote and directed, Ethan Hawke plays the troubled pastor of a historic Dutch Reformed congregation in upstate New York, whose 250th anniversary is approaching.  Long ago, First Reformed had been a stop on the Underground Railroad, a congregation deeply engaged in working for freedom and justice. But in the present, the congregation has dwindled to fewer than a dozen aging members, and parishioners on Sunday are outnumbered by tourists from school groups who come during the week to hear about the church’s history.  First Reformed is supported by a much larger megachurch, Abundant Life, the pastor of which refers to First Reformed as “the souvenir shop” or “the museum”.  [I’ll add that Abundant Life’s pastor is played by Cedric the Entertainer, a casting choice which may reflect Paul Schrader’s views on megachurch religion.] Hawke’s character counsels the despondent husband of a new member, an environmental activist who is so troubled by the projected future impact of pollution and climate change that he doesn’t want to bring a child into the world, to grow up on what he expects to be a toxic and increasingly uninhabitable planet – and the man’s wife is pregnant. His question to Hawke’s character recurs throughout the movie:  “Can God forgive us for what we’ve done to his world?” [We later find out that the main financial sponsor of both Abundant Life and First Reformed, and the main sponsor of the 250th anniversary celebration, is an industrialist , named Ed Balc, whose company is one of the area’s worst polluters – and the pastor of Abundant Life is entirely complacent and complicit with the arrangement.]  Meanwhile, the body of First Reformed’s pastor increasingly resembles a toxic waste dump, as Ethan Hawke’s character guzzles bottles of whiskey as if it were ginger ale, while periodically spitting up blood, as he awaits treatment for what may be terminal stomach cancer.   And as the movie progresses, at least to me, a question came up, a question that I ask any number of times in the midst of any number of situations on any given week:  Where is God in this?  Where is God in this movie? Is God present in tiny First Reformed Church?  In the megachurch, Abundant Life?  In the pastor played by Ethan Hawke, as he agonizes about the earth being trashed, while trashing his own body?  In the megachurch pastor, content to take the industrialist’s money and run?  In the despairing environmental activist who seeks counseling? In the activist’s wife, who later also reaches out to the pastor of First Reformed? In the industrialist who bankrolls both churches while his company trashes the landscape surrounding them?  Who speaks for God in this movie?  Or, in the movie, has God gone silent?  Has God left the building entirely?

Our Scripture readings today come from very different places, but as I was preparing my sermon, they seemed to prompt a similar question – “Where does God live? Where is God in this?”  Our Old Testament reading from I Kings describes the dedication of the Temple – and the reading very explicitly raises the question of where God lives.  Solomon’s father, King David, had conceived the idea of building a Temple to God, but God, speaking through the prophet Nathan, seemed ambivalent at best about the notion.  Up to that time, a portable ark containing the two stone tablets of the commandments represented God’s dwelling place, and so wherever God’s people went, God came with them.  But David’s Temple would seem to confine God to one location and force people to come to that location to encounter the Almighty.  The ark would be confined to that location, gathering dust.  Essentially, the Temple would seem to put God himself in a box, limiting the reach of God’s presence and power.  David is told that he will not be allowed to build the Temple, but his son would do so.  And so the long-awaited dedication of the Temple came – but even as he prayed, Solomon reflected, “Will God dwell on earth?  The highest heaven cannot contain God, let alone this building we’re dedicating today.”  And yet Solomon hoped that not only would his own people pray there, but that foreigners would come and be inspired to pray at his magnificent temple – and that God would hear and answer their prayers. Solomon hoped that his would be a house of prayer for all people.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus presents an understanding of God’s presence that is poles apart from that of Solomon.  “If you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you will have eternal life,” Jesus tells his listeners.  Many who had followed Jesus up to this point abandoned him, perhaps thinking he was advocating some form of ritual cannibalism.  The Twelve were left, and Jesus asked them, “Are you going to kick me to the curb as well.”  Peter said, “Who else should we follow?  You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”  And so while Solomon located God’s presence in a place, in a building of his own construction, Jesus located God’s presence in a person, namely himself, and said that the way to encounter God was to eat his flesh and drink his blood – in what would later become the sacrament of communion, but also in letting his teachings and actions become a part of the life of his followers, so that Jesus would live through them – through us, since we count ourselves as Jesus’ followers.  In the movie First Reformed, the pastor of First Reformed seems unconsciously to be eating and drinking the world’s toxicity, taking the world’s poison into himself, ingesting it, letting it destroy him.  But Jesus invites us to take himself into our lives in ways that are life-giving.

We need the life-giving presence of Jesus in our lives.  In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul reminds his readers – and reminds us – that in our journey through life, we’re up against forces larger than ourselves.  Paul  speaks of struggling “against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”  When Paul wrote these words, it was generally believed that each nation, each church, every institution, had an angel representing it before God – and it was understood that not all of these angels were good angels; indeed, that some of these angels were in open rebellion against God.   In our day, we may understand our world a bit differently, though theologian Walter Wink, in his three-part trilogy on “the Powers”, wrote that institutions, not only churches but corporations and governments, generate a kind of institutional spiritual force or ethos that may or may not serve God’s purposes.  And so Paul’s words remind us that we battle against evil not only on an individual level, but on a systemic level – and so there is not only individual sin and individual evil, but systemic sin and systemic evil.  And if we focus only on individual sin, we leave a great deal of systemic sin unchallenged – the classic example of this would be the churches of Germany in the 1930’s and 1940’s who focused on domestic values of hearth and home while never saying a word against Hitler’s policies, which led millions to their deaths.

What does systemic sin and evil look like?  In the movie First Reformed, it is represented by the industrialist, Ed Balc, whose corporate profits funded two churches which led people to Christ and nurtured faith, and yet created environmental degradation, likely created increased rates of respiratory distress and cancer and who knows what else through his company.  As an individual, Mr Balc was polite and pious, a committed Christian, but he participated willingly – even enthusiastically – in a system which burdened his neighbors with disease and degraded the environment, the portion of God’s creation, surrounding his plant.  Here in Bridesburg, here at Emanuel Church, with the former Honeywell/now Advansix plant in our back yard, I think we can relate.   Over the past 100 years, Bridesburg has been home to Rohm and Haas and other chemical manufacturers.  I’m told that these companies did a great deal for their workers, and of course the jobs they offered were the backbone of this neighborhood for decades.  And yet this neighborhood has cancer levels far exceeding that of many other parts of the city….the dark side of these companies’ legacy lives on, bringing illness and death to our friends and neighbors.   There are other examples – every Sunday we pray for peace, but every day our taxes fund war.  Here at Emanuel Church we try with varying levels of faithfulness to welcome all comers, and yet we participate in a society that isn’t always so welcoming, that wants to put up a sign on our door saying “no vacancy”, “no room in the inn”.  In his prayer, Solomon invited foreigners to pray at his Temple, but our country has different ideas.  Here at Emanuel Church, we’re an island of welcome, a small candle shining our flickering light of hospitality against the hurricane-strength winds of inhospitality prevailing in our land.  Keeping our small candle lit, in the face of hurricane-strength winds trying to blow it out, is a monumental task, a herculean task, and we need to recognize and acknowledge that.  We can’t do it alone.  We in our own limited strength can’t possibly sustain the necessary level of commitment over the long haul.    We need the life-giving presence of Jesus to strengthen us, to refresh us, to sustain us – without that, we’ll collapse and self-destruct, as the pastor in First Reformed does with his excessive drinking.  Yes, we will need the full armor of God – the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes to enable us to carry the Gospel, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  To quote Isaiah 7:9, “If you do not stand firm in your faith,  you will not stand at all.”

Where does God live?  We know that God is present here, and yet not only here.  In formal theological language, we believe that God is both immanent and transcendent.  God is immanent – with us, as our name Emanuel states “God with us” – the word immanent and our name Emanuel come from the same Hebrew root word, are related – and yet God is also transcendent – over and above all creation – as Jeremiah 23:23 states, “Am I only a God who is near, and not a God who is far away?”  God is around us, beside us, and within us – and the God we worship here at Emanuel Church reflects that of God within each of us, that of God which comes with us to church every Sunday. 

I rarely do this, but I’m sending you forth from this place with a homework assignment.  As you go through your week, I want you to ask yourself the question I asked myself when I watched the movie First Reformed, “Where is God in this?  Who speaks for God in this situation?”  Where is God as you wake up and shower and dress and prepare for the day?  Where is God in the events of the day, in the people you meet, in the situations you encounter?  Where is God present in your surroundings, whether you’re here in Bridesburg or some other part of the city, or, if you’re fortunate, if you’re vacationing down the shore or up in the mountain?  Where is God as you wind down for the day and prepare for bed.  I’m not talking about looking for the face of Jesus in your piece of French toast tomorrow morning….but I’m inviting you to be sensitive to the ways God may be trying to speak to you as you go through your week, not only here in this place, but wherever you find yourself.  Know that whether you sense God’s presence or not, God is with you.   

A quote from Mother Theresa may give us some perspective on how to search for where God lives:  “Seeking the face of God in everything, everyone, all the time, and his hand in every happening; This is what it means to be contemplative in the heart of the world. Seeing and adoring the presence of Jesus, especially in the lowly appearance of bread, and in the distressing disguise of the poor.”

And here’s a brief poem from Gerard Manley Hopkins tells of how, just as each creature and object in nature proclaims its essence in what it does, we proclaim God’s presence – or absence – through our actions:
AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.


Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.[1]


So as we begin a new week, may our eyes be open to the many places in which God lives, the many ways in which God is present with us.  May we have eyes to see Christ playing in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs, and lovely in our eyes and those of our neighbors.   As God makes his home among us, God with us, may we find our home, and feel at home, in God. Amen.


[1] Gerard Manley Hopkins, “As Kingfishers Catch Fire,” https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44389/as-kingfishers-catch-fire

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