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My grandfather was a quiet man. My Grandmother, on the other hand,…well, she was one of those who could talk non-stop, relentlessly. I know that’s redundant, but it helps to make my point. My grandfather usually found a way to cope with that. Usually with work, civic groups, and staying busy. But, when Granddaddy retired he had to come up with something quick. It did not take long for the number of TV sets around their house to increase. He could turn on and tune out while Grandma yattered on. He even put one in the kitchen – the Holy of Holies of their home. Grandma could watch her shows while she piddled in there throughout the day, but mostly I think the TV was meant to give Granddaddy relief at meal times.
I have a fond memory of that TV. I was there for dinner one evening back in ’85 or “86. The news was on. Grandma was “givin’ ‘er” with the chatter on family and neighbourhood news. In the midst of this I noticed Granddaddy staring at the TV and becoming agitated in a way very unlike him. So, I turned to look at what was on. It was a news story about how the face of Jesus was beginning to take shape in the rust on the side of a water tower somewhere in Ohio. Granddaddy was as angry as I had ever seen him. I fact, I don’t think I remember ever seeing him angry before that. He was just always so calm, gentle, and composed. As we watched the story, he suddenly blurted out, “The Bible says that when Jesus comes back he’s coming on clouds of glory not on the side of some water tower. Ain’t that right, boy?” I said, “That’s right”. He shook his head in righteous indignation and went back to eating.
Now, I cannot say much for Canada though I’ve lived here 20 years now, but I know that down in the Southern U.S. where I’m from, down in the Bible Belt, people are as superstitious about their so-called face of Jesus appearances as the Roman Catholics were about their “relics” back in the Middle Ages (a piece of the cross here, another head of John the Baptist there, here a finger of Peter, there a toe of Paul). I have actually heard it reported on the news that the face of Jesus has appeared on the tin roof of a barn silo, a piece of toast, on a tortilla chip, and in the mould on a bathroom wall of a run-down little house somewhere in South Carolina. I’ve even seen a news report of a Madonna and Child taking form in a Cheeto.
I’m with my grandfather on this one. The proof of the hope of our faith is not rusting up on the side of some water tower in Ohio. But you never know. I’ve seen some things in my time too that have given me hope. Most psychologists would say that when people see things like that, they are most likely seeing something they want to see. If that’s the case, these people are passionately wanting to see Jesus, wanting him to come and sort things out, and who can fault them for that.
So, why all this possibly inappropriate nattering on about face of Jesus sightings? Well, we have our Isaiah reading to blame. In verse one the prophet cries out: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.” Actually, in the Hebrew language the word we translate as “presence” is “face”. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your face, as when fir kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil, to make your name known to your enemies, so that the nations might tremble at your face.” Isaiah goes on to say and I paraphrase, “You did it before when we didn’t expect it, when we didn’t deserve it. You freed us from slavery in Egypt, and brought us to Mt. Sinai, ‘you came down, that mountain quaked at your face’. No ear has heard. No eye has seen any God besides you who acts for those who wait for him.”
I think there are quite a many people today praying like that, saying, “Jesus, tear open the heavens and come down. We are your people. You made us who we are. Where are you Jesus? Come down and show your face. Put things right here.” Globally, we’re coming off a still lingering pandemic. There’s war in the Ukraine and war in Israel, fires, famines, earthquakes, tsunamis, a global food shortage. For whatever reason, the climate is indeed changing. The arctic climate that I studied in grade school forty-five years ago no longer exists. Earth is warming up and is on the verge of a point of no foreseeable return. Authoritarian populists if not downright racist people are getting elected as national leaders in Europe in nations that are bearing the brunt of absorbing the refugees that are fleeing conflicts in the Middle East. Inflation has run rampant since the Pandemic. There is no such thing as affordable housing at present.
That’s just the big stuff that we have to deal with. What about the more immediate and even bigger stuff we have to deal with on the day to day basis. That diagnosis…. That addiction…. That affair…. That mental illness…. That boss…. My child…. Christmas…. I know, right now, that there’s a whole lot of people crying out to God in desperation wanting God, Jesus, Holy Spirit to just show up and do something. Isaiah said it so well, “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down”. Yet, Jesus for whatever reason…?...we are left with a profound sense of God’s absence and the urge to lament.
This passage from Isaiah is what we would call a lament. Laments arise from people feeling a very profound sense of God’s absence and inactivity. Their train of thought will generally be “Where are you God? You were faithful to us in the past when you did thus and such. But, where are you now? Why have you abandoned us?” It’s like Jesus’ disciples in a storm-tossed boat about to get swamped and he’s comfortably asleep on a pillow in the back of the boat and so they have to wake him saying, “Lord, don’t you care that we’re perishing?”
There’s something about laments we need to take to heart. Their very presence in the Bible let’s us know that it’s okay for us to be angry at God when God seems to be pulling a Sleeping Jesus. It’s okay to be angry with God when he seems to be a no show. Did you know there are probably as many if not more psalms of lament in the Bible than there are psalms of praise? Folks, it’s okay to be angry with God.
Laments express our hurt, anger, and frustration with God when he seems so absent and inactive. But the trajectory of how laments arise and God responds to them is that God brings us to a place of a profound sense of God’s absence but then there is a moment and suddenly we are profoundly aware of his presence with us. God speaks and says, “Peace. Be still.”
Have you ever looked looked at the state of your own life and felt the profound absence of God? Have you ever found yourself powerless over the course of your life and in need of God’s help and yet it seems he’s nowhere to be found. Have you ever been on your knees crying out, “Jesus, where are you? Come! Tear open the heavens and come down. Jesus, show me your face. You’ve acted before. I’ve read my Bible. It’s full of stories of your steadfast love and faithfulness, of how you did miraculous things for those who wait for you. You did it for them. Why don’t you do it for me? I know it is you who has made me who I am, so where are you? Jesus, show your face!”
If you have ever felt that profound sense of God’s absence and cried out your lament, then you know what this first Sunday in Advent is about; this gut-churning waiting for God to act in the midst of the painful profoundness of his absence. It is not some warm, fuzzy, nostalgic Christmas that we hope and wait for. Christmas has happened and so we stand on it in faith. God has once and for all gotten involved in his Creation to deliver it by becoming Jesus the Christ. Christmas has come. It’s the completion of Christmas that we await. It’s his coming again to put things right that we are waiting for. Strong feelings of lament are profoundly normal in a world that’s not yet put to rights. Yet, and mysteriously, these strong feelings of lament are the seedbed of the hope and faith through which God comes and eventually makes his presence known. It’s okay to be angry with God when God seems absent and uninvolved. It’s okay to let him know it. It is in the lament that we discover that, indeed, God is with us and is suffering with us. Amen.
