Weren’t we taught in Sunday school and Bible study that God is (among other amazing things), omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent? When did he stop seeing and knowing and being where we are, wherever we are, all of the time?
What have WE decided (or concluded) is the indication of His presence? Applause? A praise break? Emotional music?
Who gets to decide if He showed up or not? Where is the criteria? Who said it’s right or authentic?
Didn’t we also learn that he was not a respecter of persons? What is this hierarchy we’ve established that seems to imply there’s a need for a middleman/woman, wingman, or team of color-coordinated minstrels? What was Jesus’ sacrifice? Chopped liver?
What do I look like praying for anybody to help me commune with a God who has already made Himself available to me? What’s a song (no matter how passionately it’s sung or played) supposed to do? Aren’t our man made offerings merely feeble expressions of thanks and gratitude? Where did we EVER get the idea that they superseded a sincere person’s earnest prayer— uttered from ANYWHERE?
If it’s my house, do I really need anyone telling me I’m welcome, or showing me where to sit, or what room I can occupy? It’s ALL mine! If I’m invited by the host of the house, do I need someone else to introduce me? Won’t he greet me? Won’t he meet me there? If he invited me, won’t he let me in?
Does God really need to be directed, or ushered by anyone? Who has that kind of power or authority? Who qualifies? What voice or voices? What song or sermon? Have we gotten too big for our britches to think we control His movements, and people who can’t, or don’t preach or sing have to wait for the weekend and watch for someone else to bring God into their spaces?
Have we relegated God to spaces and places where the attention is on US and what WE do? Have we asked him if he had a good time?
If God really showed up, would we be able to do anything at all? Would our songs even be adequate? Would we be struck dumb and not even care about all of the frivolous stuff people want us to see? Would we be surprised whose worship He’d actually accept? Would it be the usual, high-profile suspects, fluent in churchspeak, who practice and prepare, entertain and choreograph? Or would God gravitate to the often ignored people who commune daily, in anonymity— away from the spotlights, smoke, mirrors, and platforms we’ve come to associate with nearness to God?
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