Questioning God’s presence or his sovereign rule during the midst of tragic suffering is common among believers. One might say it’s the norm. For if everything is under God’s reign, then what happens under his watch is on him. The buck has to stop somewhere. “Where are you, God?” ends up being a good question.
While Jesus was hanging on the cross, he cried out in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt. 27:46; Mk. 34). Most people believe Jesus was facing a form of “separation anxiety.” At the very moment God turned his back on his Son, Jesus felt alone, vulnerable and abandoned. Like a child who cannot find his parents in the store, Jesus appears to be unable to find God.
When Job was enduring his assault from Satan he questioned God’s ability to rule. With a belief rooted in retribution, he announced his innocence having done nothing to deserve such punishment (Job 6:24-30). Job’s friends believed otherwise (Job 5:17) and assumed their friend was holding out on them. So disturbed, Job was willing to take God to court, even though he was convinced justice was beyond his reach (Job 9:3, 17-18).
How do we step into the vacuum of the unanswerable question, “Where are you, God?”
Deadly tornados swept through Middle Tennessee leaving in its wake about a 200 (?) mile mass of destruction and death. At this time 24 people have died, most of whom are children and in Putnam County. While all have been accounted for, some 150 were hospitalized. One site claimed that 75 buildings were destroyed in Nashville alone. The number that hurts the most is the 18 children who died, particularly the four year-old girl of the Collegeside Church of Christ youth minister.
So in the midst of our pain as we endure the suffering around us, we ask, “Where are you, God?”
Job was granted his wish. He was offered the chance to present his case before God, but the Almighty asked the first series of questions. He grilled Job on the details of the universe and complications and difficulties of comprehending how the world even works. Job never received an answer for his suffering, even though we were told from the opening lines of the drama what was unfolding behind the scenes. Job realized that his finite mind cannot comprehend the infinite (Job 42:1-6). Sometimes that’s where we sit. We stop reading into the cause or looking for an explanation. Certainly, we refrain from indicting God. We simply trust that God is bigger than our biggest moment of tragic suffering.
Astute readers of Scripture will note that Jesus quoted Psalm 22:1 while on the cross. Some assume he was framing his suffering in the faith of the Psalmist because it reads like a prophecy to the cross. It also ends with hope, and the very next Psalm proclaim the faith of following the Good Shepherd (Ps. 23). But something else is at work too. As Jesus utters these words from the cross, it’s the only time in the New Testament where he refers to his Father as God. Even more so, Jesus personalizes his relationship with God by crying out, “My God, My God” (emphasis mine). The closeness and intimacy Jesus had with his Father is evident even in the most difficult, tragic and unjust moment in humanity’s history. Instead of focusing on “forsaken,” we should focus on his intimate relationship with God. He’s not just anybody’s God, he’s “my God.”
So we ask the question, “Where are you, God?” and in his silence we beg for an answer.
But God is far from silent. In the midst of a tornado, sickness, fear, forsakenness and death, God speaks. He provides an answer. He offers the answer. As we gaze upon the Golgotha hill, we watch Jesus suffering from the cross. For in the midst of his faithful suffering we find our answer. The God of the universe, who reigns above all, is suffering with us.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)