I know I just brought Brueggemann two days ago and I shouldn't overuse resources, but this one is my favorite and it really has do with my day. This one is from Prayers for a Privileged People.
We Bid Your Presence (On reading Psalm 22)
We know about your presence
that fills the world,
that occupies our life,
that makes our life in the world true and good.
We notice your powerful transformative presence
in word and
in sacrament,
in food and in water,
in gestures of mercy
and practices of justice,
in gentle neighbors
and daring gratitude.
We count so on your presence
and then plunge--without intending--into your absence.
We find ourselves alone, abandoned, without resources
remembering your goodness,
hoping your future,
but mired in anxiety and threat and risk beyond our coping.
In your absence we bid your presence,
come again,
come soon,
come here:
Come to ever garden become a jungle
Come to every community become joyless
sad and numb.
We acknowledge your dreadful absence and insist on your presence.
Come again, come soon. Come here.
Come to every community become joyless
sad and numb.
We acknowledge your dreadful absence and insist on your presence.
Come again, come soon. Come here.
In a conversation just a few nights ago, I referenced this prayer (one that I so often use for morning devotion in our report meetings in the office) to talk about my feelings of absence at times. My boss once asked me after I read the poem/prayer if I really believed in God's absence. My answer was that I recognize a difference between God's absence and my perception of God's absence.
Again today, this conversation came back around with someone else. Without sharing any details of that conversation, I was reminded of a time in my life when I felt dreadful absence. The funny thing was, even then, I recognized the difference between God's absence and my feeling of God's absence. The dreadful part of that dark time in my life is that I couldn't feel God but I couldn't bring myself to claim that I didn't believe in God. Rather, I knew God to be real. I just felt like God didn't care about me. I can tell you, that was a dark and sad place to be.
But eventually, I started to see God differently. I had a new view of God. I couldn't hold on to what I call "Old White Man in the Sky" God anymore because it was an image that never really worked for me. If you know me long enough you'll learn that the biggest theological topic in my frame of thinking is incarnational theology. To learn about God as fully human and fully divine, to learn about God as embodied in the flesh to be the God I can see and touch and feel and relate to in my broken humanness, that was an awesome turn in my faith. I felt like Jacob after he wrestled with God at the river Jabbok (Genesis 32), walking with a limp and maybe even a new name (or identity, at least).
But still, I plunge into God's dreadful absence at times. I have moments of feeling far away from God, moments of fear and doubt. But when I look to Christ and know the Holy Spirit, I am now sure that my perception of absence has nothing to do with a God who doesn't care about me.
Again today, this conversation came back around with someone else. Without sharing any details of that conversation, I was reminded of a time in my life when I felt dreadful absence. The funny thing was, even then, I recognized the difference between God's absence and my feeling of God's absence. The dreadful part of that dark time in my life is that I couldn't feel God but I couldn't bring myself to claim that I didn't believe in God. Rather, I knew God to be real. I just felt like God didn't care about me. I can tell you, that was a dark and sad place to be.
But eventually, I started to see God differently. I had a new view of God. I couldn't hold on to what I call "Old White Man in the Sky" God anymore because it was an image that never really worked for me. If you know me long enough you'll learn that the biggest theological topic in my frame of thinking is incarnational theology. To learn about God as fully human and fully divine, to learn about God as embodied in the flesh to be the God I can see and touch and feel and relate to in my broken humanness, that was an awesome turn in my faith. I felt like Jacob after he wrestled with God at the river Jabbok (Genesis 32), walking with a limp and maybe even a new name (or identity, at least).
But still, I plunge into God's dreadful absence at times. I have moments of feeling far away from God, moments of fear and doubt. But when I look to Christ and know the Holy Spirit, I am now sure that my perception of absence has nothing to do with a God who doesn't care about me.
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