God Is Not An Empty Suit--December 5, 2023

God Is Not An Empty Suit--December 5, 2023

"Hear, O Shepherd of Israel, leading Joseph like a flock;
  shine forth, you that are enthroned upon the cherubim.
 In the presence of Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh,
  stir up your strength and come to help us.
 Restore us, O God;
  let your face shine upon us, and we shall be saved." [Psalm 80:1-3]

In a lot of institutions, the person at the top of the flow-chart is really just a figurehead. The King of England is basically a ceremonial leader who makes appearances at public functions and has his face printed on money in the UK.  The Grand Marshal of the Rose Parade doesn't have to play an instrument or know how to march--it's just an honorific title given to a celebrity to kick off the festivities before the floats start coming down the street.  Even in countries with elected leaders or corporations with Big Important Boards of Directors, the people on top do less and less of the actual day-to-day work and decision-making, but are advised by policy wonks, bureaucrats and a vast array of Executive Vice-Presidents.  

We are just used to having the likes of presidents, governors, and CEOs sequestered off behind a desk somewhere, being told what to sign and what to say.  And you certainly don't expect any of those Big Deals to actually roll up their sleeves and put themselves in harm's way to save someone's life, work a shift in a factory, or evacuate children from a war-zone.  We expect somebody else to do those things, while we keep our heads of state and corporate executives up in board rooms or safe inside the company jet.  If my car breaks down on the way to work, there's no way I think to myself, "You know who I'm sure could really help me out there?  The Governor!"  If our family is going through a crisis and working through a difficult dinner table conversation, nobody in their right mind says, "I'll bet the CEO of Tesla or Amazon would be able to help us find a solution!  Quick--somebody get Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos on the phone to save the day!"  No one thinks those folks would be available or willing to come, and I'll bet no one thinks they would be of much use even if you could get them to come to the dinner table or the side of the road.  We know better than to expect meaningful help from the figureheads.

And yet... the praying poet in the words we call Psalm 80 has taught us to approach God, not as a distant Cosmic CEO but as a Shepherd who takes responsibility for the sheep.  The Almighty Creator of all things, who is "enthroned upon the cherubim"  (that is, who has mysterious angelic beings for a living throne) doesn't stay stuck in a chair behind a desk or a board room table, but comes to save and rescue.  The writers of the Scriptures don't picture God as a distant cosmic figurehead who is basically a hands-off kind of leader, but as the One who comes into our troubles with us and delivers us.  They take it as a given that the living God is both available and willing to come to our aid.   They take it for granted that God is not an absentee landlord or an empty suit, but enters into the mess among us to bring us through.

This is a pretty big deal if you think about it.  These words from the psalm that many of us spoke or heard this past Sunday picture God as shepherd, not merely as an aging executive who merely issues decrees from the top floor.  The psalmist doesn't picture God as merely an honorary position, but as a very real one.  Shepherds don't run away from trouble--at least not the good ones; they place themselves between the danger and the flock.  They put their own lives on the line for the sake of the sheep.  They don't just read from a teleprompter a pre-approved statement that says the sheep should get food and water--a good shepherd actually leads the flock to green pastures and still waters to make sure they get what they need.  And this is the way we are dared to call on God--not distant or out of the loop, but immersed in the world and in our troubles.  The Scriptures invite us to call on God, not merely as a cosmic clockmaker who sets the universe up and then leaves it alone, but who comes into our midst to be our help.

That's the hope we nurture in these days.  That's what the hope of Jesus is.  We aren't just asking for God to issue a focus-group-written, committee-approved general statement about how unfortunate it is that human beings suffer.  We are turned toward the God who comes into our sufferings like a Shepherd standing between the wolves and the flock, who lays down his own life for the sheep.  That's what makes the hope we have in Jesus different from the figureheads and distant executives of the world.  That's why, despite all the other Big Deals in corporate, political and institutional life, we don't let go of our hope in Jesus.  No CEO is coming to share your troubles or mine.  No governor, president, or king these days would actually put their life on the line for yours.  But Jesus will.  He has already.  

Lord Jesus, keep our hope rooted in you, and come to rescue us all in the midst of our suffering.