God is behind all this

One common revelation of God’s existence is the unnecessary beauty of the world, indeed the universe itself. Sunrises and sunsets stop us in our tracks. Mountains, snow-laden trees, the colorful fields in the plains against the blue sky. These picturesque displays of creation seem to confirm that God is an artist. Beauty leaves many of us certain that a God must be behind all this.

Image by Victoria

God lets us know who he is

By John Pearring


Saturday of the Third Week in Ordinary Time
II Samuel 12:1-7, 10-17
Mark 4:35-41


There are many ways God lets us know who he is. At the same time, in every way God reveals himself, someone disputes each revelation with an objection that denies what we see right in front of us.

One common revelation of God’s existence is the unnecessary beauty of the world, indeed the universe itself. Sunrises and sunsets stop us in our tracks. Mountains, snow-laden trees, the colorful fields in the plains against the blue sky. These picturesque displays of creation seem to confirm that God is an artist. Beauty leaves many of us certain that a God must be behind all this.

Miracles are like that, too. Unexplainable events, at the very last moment of some impending doom, reset and repair our perception of life’s difficulties. God steps in, but not always. We witness his power and care for us at certain special moments that he chooses. We tell people about what happened, and we are all stunned.

But — and it’s a very big but — in every revelation of God’s presence, including the beauty of creation and the intervention of miracles, opposite, skeptical conclusions arise, with ugliness and sometimes vengeance. We are urged, even mocked, into recognizing that no God was involved.

Beauty, we are told, is our hope for a better world getting the best of us. Unbelievers point out that miracles are coincidences, as random as the disaster that the miracle reportedly reversed. Beauty is an opinion based upon our emotions, looking for a way out of facing death. Miracles, too, are just concentrations of something good happening rather than dealing with life’s awfulness. Can’t we see that?

The skepticism of godless thinking is that life is only a balancing act of good and bad. We’re susceptible to happiness and hope, but …. naah. Sorry, folks, there is no God. Have a beer. Enjoy the game. Your team will probably lose, but even if you win, the joy will be over soon, and they’ll suck again next year. Have another beer. You’ll feel better.

Today’s two readings don’t convince us that there is a God. They don’t set up a formula proving God is there and that he is good. A miracle is not the focus of these readings, even though Jesus calmed the storm. That’s not really what scripture is all about.

We come at scripture not to bring our brains, warning our hearts to stay back. “We’ve got some thinking to do here.” We can do that, but that’s not what the written revelations are for. What we get in the scriptures, like today, is God in the verses. He’s not hidden in a philosophical discussion or behind the scenes wishing we would notice him. He’s right there in front of us, bold as day.

How convincing is that? The only way to object to today’s readings as revelations by God is to call them made-up stories. And that’s what unbelievers do.

Listen to the scriptures, though. God tells David through the prophet Nathan that he’s the terrible dude in the tale of stealing a man’s lovely wife and having that man killed. Told through a poor servant and his pet ewe taken from him on a whim. Seeing his horrid behavior, David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the LORD.” Nathan answered David: “For his part, the LORD has removed your sin. You shall not die, but since you have utterly spurned the LORD by this deed, the child born to you will surely die.”

David repents, but his suffering and loss of a son will be the consequence of sin. So, is this just a tale?

Contrary to an unbeliever’s argument that there is no God, often because it’s apparent God allows evil to happen, this scripture reports one of the stark realities about God. Again, we’re not introduced to a philosophical/morality play about bad things. We’re sinful creatures whom God relates to whether we want him to or not. We meet God as David did — disappointed, merciful, and just. God's presence is all consuming in this story. 

In the gospel, Jesus falls asleep on a boat during a storm that frightens his seaworthy disciples for their lives. Jesus sits up and stops the storm. Then he asks them, "Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?"

Jesus isn’t debating who he is. He reveals himself and reaches for them in person. Didn’t they know he had this power?

“They were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?"

No, they did not.

Isn’t it rather strange that even those of us who treasure God and hear these stories about him in revelatory history, which come complete with witnesses, authors, and faithful stewards of the scriptures who pass them on, we get drawn into philosophical arguments about God’s existence?

We don’t doubt that God exists. We hesitate and reserve our confidence. We fail to practice courage and lean into affable conversations to preserve relationships with someone other than God. Because of that and our reticence, we doubt that we are worthy of God. We even say things like, “If God would have me.” In the breech, we sweat over what God would want us to do, imagining that God will expect things from us that we can’t handle. 

The upshot is that we compromise, even agreeing that God may not exist. 

God not only exists, but he teaches us in scripture that we must face, trust, and feel him with us. Not for the beauty and miracles. They are icing on the cake. God doesn’t give us dry cake; he dresses it up and surprises us. There are times, though, when ugliness and horrors win out. That’s when turning to him needs to have been practiced.

We live with a God who stays with us even when we’re awful, and especially when we’re drowning. Life has consequences. Uriah and David’s first son by Bathsheba died because of sin. David knew that Uriah was with God in heaven, and so was David’s dead son. Then God responds. Solomon was born. 

Uriah did nothing wrong. It's not a tale of being good in order to live. It's a conversation that God has with his creation.

That sea was calm, but many ships have been upturned since Jesus calmed that storm. In every case, Jesus asks us, "Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?"

When our friends are cured and our family’s fortunes are restored, those are temporary adjustments to this dying world. They are not permanent miracles, just wonderful reminders that God is with us. We still have to face all the crap that happens and deal with our sinful natures, which we can calculate produces much of the angst to come. God with us then is also wonderful, beyond our understanding.

"Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?"

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