God Spotting

Romans 8:26-39   |   7/28/2002

Before 9/11, as many as 250 plane spotters gathered regularly on the observation deck at Los Angeles International Airport, jotting down aircraft registration numbers. Then terrorists clipped the wings of this rather peculiar passion. But unlike plane spotting, God spotting is on the rise.

Michael Wright doesn't look like a terrorist.

Nevertheless, security guards nabbed this white-haired British engineer at the Las Vegas airport last year when travelers noticed him atop the parking garage studying the runway with binoculars. Wright explained he was simply a "plane spotter" -- an aviation lover who delights in jotting down aircraft registration numbers much like ornithologists scan the skies for birds to document in their Peterson's Field Guides.

Plane spotting, like its even more eccentric predecessor "train spotting," endures as a hobby among eccentric Brits and a handful of devotees from the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Japan and the United States. It works like this: Perched high upon hotel rooftops, observation towers and parking garages, plane spotters search through binoculars straining to read the individual registration numbers printed on the tails of assorted aircraft. Then they record the numbers, attempting to chronicle as many sightings as possible.

Sound even less interesting than the search for a northern parula warbler? Plane-spotting enthusiasts claim the hobby is addictive, with the most fanatical spotters boasting of tens of thousands of sightings, all preserved for posterity in stacks of frayed journals.

Spotters endure infernal abuse from co-workers and family members. But suggestions of daffiness are tame, though, compared to accusations of espionage. Late last year, authorities arrested several British and Dutch citizens when they attempted to enjoy their offbeat pursuits too close to a military air show in southeastern Greece. The plane spotters were released just before Christmas after British diplomats intervened on their behalf, explaining that, yes, this was an odd but harmless hobby.

Before his brush with the law in Las Vegas, Michael Wright joined a group of plane spotters on a tour to Paris organized by Aeroprints, Ltd., plane-spotting specialists based in Hampshire, England. Before you could yell "Road trip!" 21 men piled on a chartered bus at Heathrow Airport and headed toward Paris' Le Bourget airfield, where Charles Lindbergh made his historic landing in 1927. With the giddiness of a busload of rock star groupies collecting autographs, they clamored together right up alongside the runway, and with binoculars in hand, they strained to catch a glimpse of new numbers and models to record in their collectors' notebooks.

It seems they stood too close to the runway for comfort. Almost immediately, security personnel, armed with automatic weapons, of course, pulled up in a white van only to hear this band of odd but innocent men explain this most curious of leisure activities. "C'est bizarre," a baffled police officer said as he drove away, leaving them to continue their strange pursuits.

Life is hard for plane spotters these days. Ordinary people, newly aware of living in terror, simply cannot afford to ignore those who suspiciously stare up toward the heavens. Do they mean us harm? Do they really spot something going on up there? Or are they simply odd?

Paul writes that life is hard for God spotters, too. Disaster, adversity, misfortune -- it all makes it tough for us to spot God through the fog of chaos and profound sorrow.

Paul reminds us that there is nothing new about living in the throes of terror and disaster. Hardship? Distress? Persecution? Famine? Nakedness? Peril? Sword? Nothing new there.

Nothing new about crying for divine help, either, as we weakly plug along. But while we search for meaning, God searches the human heart. God controls not only the air traffic. God even controls the moving of the Spirit.

Nothing new about God spotting either. This age-old practice occupies a long and curious history.

While plane spotters lug around their own accounts of sightings in notebooks as thick as Bibles, God spotters carry the real thing filled with the accounts of generations of the God spotters who came before them.

* Moses spotted God in a burning bush.
* Hannah spotted God through her tears at Shiloh as she begged for a child in the face of infertility.
* Isaiah spotted God in a vision sitting on a throne surrounded by six-winged seraphs.
* Elijah spotted God in the cleft of a mountain amid thunder, lightning, wind and fire.
* Bartimaeus, though blind, spotted God from his place along the road.
* A woman in need of healing spotted God in the crowd around Jesus.
* The centurian at the cross spotted God when Jesus died in suffering and agony.
* The thief spotted God as he hung on a cross beside Jesus.
* King Nebuchadnezzar spotted God in the fiery furnace.

And still others spotted God calming a storm, healing a leper, restoring a young girl to life. Matthew tells us that a whole crowd of people spotted God talking about mustard seeds and hidden treasure and nets teeming with fish as Jesus was sitting in a boat teaching those who had gathered on the beach.

Yet it often remains hard for us to see God in the existential realities of our lives. In fact, sometimes it seems that God has gone into hiding, that he is deliberately avoiding us. The poet Edward Dowden expresses this in "Deus Absconditus." Since God seems to have fled the scene, he muses, I will chase after him. And so he does. But his search turns up nothing. Finally, he gives up. God, apparently, will not be found. So the poet concludes, "If still thou claimst me, seek me. I am here." Even Luther and Pascal thought of God as the "hidden God," hiding from the sin of his people. To perceive such a God required, they thought, an enormous act of faith, possible only through the gift of grace available to only a few.

Even the psalmist David pondered the problem of Deus Absconditus. "My tears have been my food day and night, while people sat to me continually, 'Where is your God?"' (Psalm 42:3).

Today, in the face of so much horror, many people no longer wonder "Where is thy God?" Instead, like the Dowden, they give up, thinking God is either long gone, or that indeed, there is no God at all.

Those who argue that there is no God may simply be saying that in their experience they have yet to run across anything that even remotely resembles the activity of God. Certainly they did not see God in the Holocaust, or in the famines throughout the Third World, or in the suffering of children, or in the events of 9/11, for example.

But this begs the question of what sort of thing would we recognize as the presence of God?

The apostle Paul affirms that God is present, not hidden, and that nothing will separate us from his love. If we accept that as a given, then perhaps God is not so hard to spot after all. But we must be open and receptive to the possibility -- that God is among us. Then we'll see God in even the smallest of wonders.

The church's business is God spotting. Church offers opportunities for fine-tuning our God-spotting abilities. Those who love God, those called according to God's purpose, learn new ways to spot the good even in the midst of pain.

The greater truth is that God has already spotted us. Long ago, God spotted us from afar and through Jesus came as close as possible to join us where we were standing so that we might catch the most close-range, intimate sighting possible.

If God was willing to send Jesus to the very place where we were standing, to the very place where many were already looking up in hopes of seeing something interesting, then won't God continue to give us all the sightings we really need?

Today God is spotted everywhere: in the lives of those whose hardships are crushing, whose distress induces nightmares, whose persecution horrifies, whose famine shames us, whose nakedness embarrasses us, whose peril makes us want to turn away, whose relationship with the sword is too close for us to relate. Not only do such tragedies fail to separate us from God; God can actually be spotted in the midst of them. Nothing can keep us from God's love.

Sourcs:
Michaels, Daniel, and Andy Pasztor. "How one odd hobby was changed forever by the terror attacks," The Wall Street Journal, January 7, 2002, A1.

Commentary

Much of Romans 8 is taken up with a discussion of life "in the Spirit" -- that seemingly invisible, altered state of existence entered into by the Christian believer which places the believer beyond the reach of earthy sin, death and suffering. Although hidden behind the circumstances of earthly suffering and tribulation, Romans 8:1-25 presents us with a clear picture of the high contrast between those who live in the flesh and those who choose rather to focus on their life in the Spirit. Those fixated on the flesh endure suffering without hope. Those who have glimpsed the truth of their life in the Spirit know that present suffering will be dwarfed by the glorious rewards reaped in their future inheritance of resurrected life in Christ. All of this being said, Romans 8:26-39 goes on to offer reassurance that in addition to entitling the believer to a new life in Christ, the Spirit will also make the pain of this life easier to bear by bringing comfort and support to those experiencing tribulation.

It is difficult to endure suffering, even if one truly believes it is only a passing phase prior to the coming of better times. Knowing this, Paul assures his readers that God is also aware of how difficult earthly suffering is. God is not distant from us. God is not separated from us. Even if we do not know how to pray, if we are unable to express our needs to God, the Spirit "intercedes with sighs too deep for words" (Romans 8:26). Even if we have become completely inarticulate, God is immediately aware of our needs through that spiritual connection with us.

Even though this is a very hopeful passage, ironically Romans 8:28-30 is often interpreted in a way that crushes the hope of those who are suffering. Many people read the passage "all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" to mean that nothing bad ever happens to those who love God -- as if the universe rearranges itself so that those who love God experience only good things. Thus, if one is suffering, one must not be one of those called by God or loved by God.

This, however, is actually the opposite of what Paul means to say. As Martin Luther pointed out, Paul "means to show that to the elect who are loved of God and who love God, the Holy Spirit makes all things work for good even though they are evil" (things such as illness, etc.). (Martin Luther, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans [Theodore Mueller, tr.; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1954], 112). In other words, no matter what evil thing happens to the believer, God will salvage it and turn it toward the good for the believer's sake.

Those who are not proponents of a doctrine of predestination may also have difficulty with the content of Romans 8:29-30, with its overt statements concerning God's preordained plan for believers. However, the idea that God has a larger plan for life and destines us to play out our own individual parts in it is not a new biblical concept. In Genesis 50:19-21, Joseph states clearly to his brothers that even though they meant to do him harm, they could have done nothing other to him than what they did because God intended to save the nation through Joseph's experiences and suffering. They were merely actors in God's play.

Although Paul's statements about "those whom God foreknew and predestined" may sound oddly gnostic to our modern ears, read in their larger context they are simply more words of encouragement to those who are suffering. The message is that their suffering is a part of their destiny as God's chosen -- something that makes them more similar to Christ than those who live a trouble-free life. Their suffering is part of their path to glory, a path laid out by God personally, which is the same path traveled by Christ. Christ was never intended to be the only resurrected being. Although he was the "firstborn" in this life of the Spirit, he was to be followed in resurrection by many other brothers and sisters who would suffer as he did and be glorified with him.

Romans 8 closes with a triumphant passage of reassurance. It reiterates the promises of the rest of the chapter; this time, however, making reference to "charges" which might be brought against the believer by civil authorities. Paul reminds the Roman church that only God has the right to judge or condemn the Christian believer. The assurance that Christians are bound to a higher law and answer to a different judge than those of this world has been the foundation of all Christian civil disobedience from the time of the early Church until today. Ultimately our fate will not be sealed by any court of law on earth, but by the heavenly judge who alone has the power to justify or condemn us on the basis of our actions. If we must disobey earthly laws to obey those laws that are heavenly, then Christ himself will plead our case before God -- Christ who was himself unjustly executed under human law.

Behind Christ's defense of us, however, is not only his empathy and shared experience with those who suffer -- we are also inheritors of the "love" of Christ in the covenant sense. "Love" (agape), is parallel to Old Testament covenant love, hesed, which is faithfulness which is shared by members of families and those in covenant together. It implies that those in covenant to one another are bound to treat one another a certain way. Those who share this covenant bond defend one another. They ransom one another from slavery, poverty and destitution. They come to one another's aid and demand justice for one another.

By stating that nothing can separate the believer from the love of Jesus, Paul is not just trying to say that Jesus is fond of us. He means that nothing can take away our right to be defended by Christ, ransomed by Christ and treated by Christ as the true brothers and sisters we are to him by virtue of our new life in the Spirit. Psalm 44, from which Paul quotes verse 22, is one extended appeal brought to God's attention by a suffering believer. In it the psalmist claims protection under the rights of the covenant bond with God. It is this same covenant that assures the Christian of Christ's protection and intercession before God and in the face of human suffering.

Animating Illustrations

Rabbi Feldman had been having trouble with his congregation. It seemed they could agree upon nothing, and controversy filled the air until the Sabbath itself became an area of conflict, and unhappiness filled the synagogue.

The president of the congregation said, "Rabbi, this cannot be allowed to continue. Come, there must be a conference, and we must settle all areas of dispute once and for all."
"Agreed," said the rabbi.

At the appointed time, therefore, the rabbi, the president and 10 elders met in the conference room of the synagogue, sitting about a magnificent mahogany table. One by one the issues were dealt with and on each issue, it became more and more apparent that the rabbi was a lonely voice in the wilderness.

The president said, "Come, Rabbi, enough of this. Let us vote and allow the majority to rule." He passed out the slips of paper, and each man made his mark. The slips were collected and the president said, "You may examine them, Rabbi. It is 11 to one against you. We have the majority."

Whereupon the rabbi rose to his feet in offended majesty. "So," he said, "you now think because of the vote that you are right and I am wrong. Well, that is not so. I stand here" -- and he raised his arms impressively -- "and call upon the Holy One of Israel to give us a sign that I am right and you are wrong."

And as he said so, there came a frightful crack of thunder and a brilliant flash of lightning that struck the mahogany table and cracked it in two. The room was filled with smoke and fumes and the president and the elders were hurled to the floor.

Through the carnage, the rabbi remained erect and untouched, his eyes flashing and a grim smile on his face.

Slowly, the president lifted himself above what was left of the table. His hair was singed, his glasses were hanging from one ear, his clothing was in disarray.

He said, "All right, 11 to two. We still have the majority."

--Isaac Asimov, Asimov Laughs Again (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 72.

Most adults say it is very important to worship God, but a survey finds many churchgoers struggle to have a consistently positive worship experience -- sometimes for reasons of their own making.

A new report by Christian researcher George Barna reveals that worship is considered the most important dimension of faith for 92 percent of all churched adults. In comparison, 63 percent of the 1,419 people questioned consider the ability to learn about their faith a top priority, while 59 percent said experiencing moral and spiritual accountability is very important.

Although two out of three adults say they always look forward to worshiping God, only one-third of all church regulars believe they always experience God's presence or intimate interaction with him during corporate worship times, says the president of the Barna Research Group (BRG).

--"Churchgoers want worship -- but most don't experience God," Maranatha Christian Journal, February 21, 2001,
mcjonline.com/news.

In cyberspace I have met an angel-friend. Her name is Lucy and she's been in treatment for cancer for over a year. We correspond by e-mail. We started out joking about our baldness, but she's become a profound spiritual friend; she knows the trials and graces of this trail so well.

I'm sensing the pattern of how each three-week chemotherapy cycle makes me sick, then compromises my immune system, then gives me a few days of recovery before the next round. Something about this reminds me of Bosnia. My last hospital roommate told me he was dying. "I lost the battle," he said, "but you gotta keep on fighting." People tend to think of it as a battle, but I don't. I have no animosity toward my wayward cancer cells, can't see them as enemies. Lucy doesn't either.

No fighting... .

I've been sick so many times now: hospitalized, transfused, medicated, but always I feel my strange gratitude and God's incredible closeness, and I'm always aware of the love and prayers of so many people. Yet I wonder, "With all this love and prayer, how come I feel so terrible?" Lucy calls the suffering "God's kiss." Together we hatch an image of our bodies being canoes, needing to be hollowed out for God. And I've begun to realize that each time when I'm suffering the most, I receive a special Wisdom-gift.

--Gerald May, "Are we having fun yet?" Shalem News, Winter 1996.

A dear friend and mentor is a military chaplain assigned to the Pentagon. He has been working with people in the rubble of that building, sorting the brick and steel from the broken bodies and hearts of lives dismembered by the violence of death. He told me last week in a phone conversation that the picture he can't forget is of a child's purse, a little handbag, found in the wreckage of the airliner and building. As I have thought about that little purse and the child, now lost, who carried it, the only legitimate question I know is, "Where was our compassionate God when this happened?"

I have no easy answer. It is hard to ask about God's love and compassion when faced with the reality of a little girl's purse. But God's compassionate and loving nature is exactly what we must ask about.

The meaning of the word compassion is "to suffer with." In this simple definition, we find direction. Where was our compassionate God when this happened? God was with us, suffering with the frightened in the doomed airliners and in the World Trade Center. God is with us, suffering with us, as we fear the future for children and ourselves. God is suffering from the hatred the terrorists feel toward us. God is suffering with them in their delusions.

--Lynn Orville, "God is suffering with us," activevoice, episcopalchurch.org. Retrieved February 14, 2002.

Before [September 11], plane spotters loved the United States. for its multitude of flights, its often-sunny climes and its rather laissez-faire attitude toward airport security. These days, British plane spotters are, grudgingly, staying closer to home, where the hobby was born. It evolved from train spotting, the quintessential British hobby which first appealed to working-class boys looking for entertainment during the bleak years of World War II.

Every aircraft has an individual registration number printed on its tail. It is difficult for the uninitiated to grasp, but true believers talk about a compulsion, comparable to the drive of avid bird watchers, to record as many sightings of different planes as possible.

--Daniel Michaels and Andy Pasztor, "How one odd hobby was changed forever by the terror attacks," The Wall Street Journal, January 7, 2002, A1.

Children may be much better at spotting God than adults. Jesus pointed to children and their unquestioning faith and noted that it was their kind that inhabited the kingdom of God.

But not all children are unquestioning. Yet even their questions assume that God has been spotted and is present in the world:

* Dear God: Why isn't Mrs. God's name in the Bible? Weren't you married to her when you wrote it?

* Dear God: Why did you make people talk foreign languages? It would be easier if everybody could talk English like you and me.

* Dear God: If you made the sun and the moon and the stars you must have had lots of equipment.

* Dear God: How come you only have 10 rules and our school has millions?
* Dear God: When you made the first man did he work as good as we do now?

* Dear God: There were no clouds Saturday so I think I saw your feet. Did I really?

* Dear God: I know there's a God because I go to His house on Sunday and see all the cars parked there.

* Dear God: Where does yesterday go? Do you have it?

* Dear God: I'm afraid of things at night more than in the day. So if you could keep the sun on longer that would be a good thing.

Perhaps you've heard a version of these questions before, but the central truth remains: God is with us. If we haven't found God, it is not because God is not there. And when we do encounter God, it's likely that, just like these children, we may have a question or two.

Shahram Hashemi, a foreign student at New York City's LaGuardia Community College and the founder of the school's brand- new Amnesty International student chapter, was on his way to the Bank of New York on Wall Street, where he works as an intern, when the second hijacked plane slammed into the south tower of the World Trade Center ... .

"It was a moment I will never forget," states Hashemi. "It was dark and fire was everywhere. You couldn't breathe. We knew that at any moment we could die. So I told [a] fireman, I don't have anyone here, my name is Shahram Hashemi and just in case anything happens to me, let my family know." The fireman said he would, embraced the unknown young man and then made the sign of the cross. "Christ protect you," he said. Shahram, a Muslim, wept ... . He never saw that fireman again.

--Ron Lajoie, "Courage of the morning," Amnesty Now, Winter 2001-2002, 12-13.

Thousands of Neapolitans crammed into the city's cathedral Wednesday to witness the liquefaction of their patron saint's blood -- a good omen for Naples and the world, according to the faithful.

The substance usually turns to liquid twice a year -- on September 19, the saint's feast day, and on the first Saturday in May. In the past, disaster has struck when the blood remained dry.

"This is an important sign of hope not only for the city but also for the United States following the attacks," Antonio Bassolino, the head of the Campania region, which includes Naples, declared.

--The Door staff, "Not so good news," The Door, November-December 2001, 47.

Children's Sermon

Hold up two magnets, and show how they are attracted to each other. Ask for two volunteers to pull them apart, and ask these children if they found it difficult to separate them. Then put a piece of paper between the magnets, and see if the paper separates the magnets. No! Insert a piece of cardboard, and see if this separates them. No! Then put a book between the magnets, and find out if this separates the magnets. Yes! Point out that the love of God in Christ Jesus is like a magnet that is attracted to each of us, and holds us close. Let the children know that in today's Scripture, Paul lists a number of things that might get between us and the love of God -- death, life, angels, rulers, powers. Ask if any of these things can break the attraction between the love of God and us. No! Hold up the united magnets and stress that nothing in all the world "will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:39).

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