Ode
to a Shy God
John 17:20-26
Today’s sermon is brought to you by Powdermilk biscuits. Heaven’s they’re tasty! Powdermilk biscuits. They give shy people the strength to get up and do what needs to be done.
Anyone here in need of Garrison Keillor’s fictitious sponsor? Do we have any shy people in attendance today?
Of course, that’s a trick question. Raising your hand in this situation is not shy person behavior. Shy people do not step out voluntarily in front of a large assembly. They prefer to stay in the background, out of the limelight.
The Gospel passage from John 17 raises the issue of whether God is in need of some Powdermilk biscuits. “Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you,” says Jesus. Three times in these short verses, Jesus stresses the importance of making God known, and about how he is going to make God known.
This brings up the obvious question: why doesn’t God do it? It reminds me of a common theme in literature—the shy guy who’s in love with a woman but can’t bring himself to confront her. In Cyrano de Bergerac, The Courtship of Miles Standish, the motion picture Roxanne, and many other stories, the shy guy recruits his outgoing, more dashing, more assertive friend to make his presence known. The friend pleads his case while the shy guy lies back in the weeds and hopes for the best.
In the case of God, though, this type of behavior is bewildering. A question that has baffled humanity for centuries is, God, why don’t you make yourself known? Why don’t you get up and do what needs to be done? Why clutter the works with the middle man, with signs and intermediaries and the mysteries of religious doctrine?
This business about believing or not believing in God seems such a waste of time and energy. You, Lord, are the powerful creator of the universe. If you want us to know you, and believe in you and honor and obey you, the solution is simple. Show up. Make an appearance. Step out where we can see you. Dazzle us with your blinding light, your incredible power, maybe knock a few heads together if you have to.
You know that
If these thoughts have ever crossed your mind, you are not alone and you are not a bad person. Well, maybe you are but not because of that. These thoughts are all over the Old Testament. Way back in Exodus, Moses asks the simple question of God: “What is your name?”You know, tell me a little about yourself. Let’s get to know each other.”
God’s response: I am who I am, I will be who I will be.
Yeah, thanks for sharing. Based on this exchange, it seems maybe God isn’t real good at relationships and could use a middle man to get things going. There is more evidence of this elusive behavior later in Exodus, when we read that one of the basic rules is: God’s face must not be seen. God must remain hidden.
Over time, this drives the Israelites crazy: “Why do you hide your face?” Job asks.
The Psalmists line up one after another to ask the same thing:
Psalm 10: Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?”
Psalm 13: How long will you hide your face from me?
Psalm 27: Do not hide your face from me.
And so on.
Look at all the unbelievers who mock the people of God for this hiding act:
Psalm 42: Where is your God?
Micah 10: Where is the Lord your God?
Joel 2: Why should they say among the peoples, where is your God?
And so on.
It continues on into the New Testament. In Matthew, the magi come looking for Jesus, saying, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?” Why does this have to be such a secret?
In Matthew 6, Jesus advises the disciples to “pray to your Father who is unseen.” Why is God unseen?
In Romans, Paul has to talk about God’s invisible qualities. Why are they invisible?
In Mark, Jesus on three occasions orders those who understand him to be closely connected with God in a special way not to tell anyone about it. Why the request to remain anonymous?
The problem of God’s shyness continues to plague us today. How many of us have longed for a little more assurance from God, a little more clarity? How many people on that fateful day of Sept. 11 asked that same age-old question: where is God? How many of us, upon suffering some tragedy or crushing setback, ask with the Psalmist, “God, if you are there, why do you hide your face from me? How many people caught in the downward spiral of despair have begged God to make an appearance?
If the goal, as Jesus says, is to make God known, does any of this make any sense? If God wants to be known, then why does God hide? Why disappear behind a cloak of invisibility and pass out such meager hints as can be found in our struggles to interpret an old and often baffling collection of inspired books, or in the occasional paranormal revelation?
This is shy person behavior. Could it be that God is, by nature, just painfully shy?
That sounds bizarre, and perhaps even disrespectful, but I am going to explore the possibility that it is true.
I believe that shyness is a characteristic of God, but only in one
particular sense of the word. There actually is a research center known as
The Shyness Institute, located in
The Shyness Institute gives three definitions of shyness:
1. excessive self-consciousness
2. excessive negative self-evaluation
3. excessive negative self-preoccupation
It is obvious that God is none of those. God is the antithesis of self-consciousness and self-preoccupation. God is the essence of sharing, of giving, of concern for others. That’s what makes God great. And while in Old Testament stories, God sometimes is said to have regrets about the role given to humans, it is silly to imagine God believes himself to be unworthy of conversation or relationship with the people he created. If shyness is simply a debilitating condition of low self-esteem that prevents us from interacting with others, God is not shy.
But there is another side of shyness that does come into play. One aspect of shyness is the reluctance to impose one’s self on others. Not because of any feelings of unworthiness, but simply out of respect. Shyness is a useful inhibition, an instinctive way of protecting another person’s right to respond and relate free of coercion. It is actually a selfless action that runs counter to the “look out for number 1” syndrome that leads to so much conflict.
That type of shyness does appear to be a characteristic of God. What God desires most is shared relationship with us. True relationship cannot be accomplished in the absence of freedom. It cannot be demanded or coerced. God is well aware of the massive power differential between God and the rest of us. If confronted with the full force of that power and majesty, every person on earth would be cowed into submission. We would have no choice but to submit to whatever God said to do. And how do you get love out of that situation?
This is the premise behind Kierkegaard’s fable of the king and the maiden. Having fallen in love with the lowly peasant girl, the king realized that she was his for the taking. She would be so awed by his position and power and wealth that she could not refuse him. But would she ever truly love him?
The king realized he would never know, unless he got rid of all the advantages of royalty, and became a servant just like her. Only then could she possibly love him freely and without coercion. So he took the form of a servant. And in so doing, he ran the huge risk that the one he wanted and could attain with the snap of a finger, would reject him and leave him with nothing.
According to Kierkegaard, that was why God came to us in servant form, in the form of a helpless baby of lowly birth, a carpenter’s child, a humiliated and publicly executed traitor. When you love a person like that, there is no doubt the love is genuine. It is a real adult sharing relationship.
The Gospel shows that God is concerned with real, mature, adult, sharing relationships. That’s an important point for you people in the funny hats and the choir robes as you graduate and head into the adult world. One of the most important features of becoming an adult is learning to deal with the wonderful gift of freedom. When you are a child, your behavior is regulated by others, more powerful than you, who use their power over you to tell you when to go to bed, what to eat, how to treat others, how hard you need to study. Your behavior is regulated externally through a system of rewards and punishments.
As you become an adult, outside regulation diminishes. The key to adulthood is, how well can you replace that outside regulation with positive choices and behaviors of your own. The sad truth is, a lot of people don’t do well with that. That is why so many people make a mess of their lives. That is why we have so many laws—to keep people who cannot function as adults from hurting others in society.
The same process happens in your faith. When you are a child, your behavior is regulated by others more powerful than you, who may use their power to get you to church and Sunday school and to promote a healthy spiritual life. The key to adulthood is how well do you replace that outside regulation with choices and behaviors of your own?
The sad truth is, a lot of people don’t do well with it. They ignore their spiritual health—have nothing to do with the church. Or they take the opposite extreme and revert to childhood. So many people seem to be drawn to churches who treat them as infants, that tell them what they can and can’t do, what they can and can’t think, who establish a nice system of report cards and heavenly rewards and hellish punishments to keep them in line.
The bravest, most extreme move God ever made was to put at risk the entire creation in order to give us the gift of freedom to be adults. To give us the freedom that makes true relationship possible. That is the ultimate gift of love.
The sad truth is that God loses this outrageous gamble many times. As Jesus says, much of the world does not know God, does not recognize anything of great value in the unseen God. Like small children, they are wowed by flash and sizzle, and scared by thunder. The world obeys power, but it doesn’t love it.
God loves us so much that God is willing to take a chance on being rejected, ignored, mocked, tamed, and repackaged in our own image in order that our relationship can be true. So that the love we return to God is not coerced but freely given.
This requires a delicate balancing act. God stays back in the shadows where we cannot see God’s face. When God makes the invitation to everyone to join in the heavenly scene described in Revelation, the invitation comes through intermediaries. Sure, God could win converts by riding through the sky on a gigantic winged horse. God could wow us by making giant waffles dance in the street. But it is not God’s power that God wants us to love. God is looking for something deeper and more mature. And so God is content to become known not through awesome acts of overwhelming majesty, but through intermediaries. Through the life of Jesus. Through the apostles. Through us.
These intermediaries aren’t going to blow you away or sweep you off your feet. They are not going to make you cringe in terror and obey the power that could crush you like a bug. If they are following in Jesus’ footsteps, they will treat you like an adult by simply proclaiming the truth, the quiet solid truth. That there is a world where tears and sorrow are no more, and that God would like nothing better to share that world with you.
“The Lord is known by his justice,” says Psalm 9. And God is known by his love, says the whole story of the life and death and resurrection of Jesus.
That is all we need to know about God. If we see that this is what God is all about and find that we can love that God in return, that’s all that’s necessary to share in the vision of Revelation. And because it’s all about sharing, it becomes a privilege to be the intermediary, the pal who takes this message to the next person on behalf of the God of love and justice who stands in the shadows.