When God Seems Distant By: Emmanuel Philor Sr.

Scripture: Acts 2:1-4

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

 

When God Seems Distant

            Family, I will be honest that I am struggling this week. The depth of this struggle began long before this week and will likely last long after this week is over. I am in a season of lament. I am tired. I am angry. Most importantly, I am tired of being angry! There have been too many names to list and too many hearts broken. Too many parents losing their children. Too many children losing their parents. Too many people have lost their partners and it seems like too much. Coupled with this is that we are still living in a pandemic. During this season, where people feel so helpless and hopeless; we have still made space and opportunity for America’s sin of racism to flourish. The execution of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and the like, prove that America has never repented of its sin. I struggle with the effects of this sin and what it has the potential to do to people who look like me. I will admit that I am new to the concept of race. I was raised by Haitian parents, who migrated to America and had children. They had no conception of races, as blacks are in the majority in Haiti. They raised me in a primarily black neighborhood, and I didn’t have to engage with my racial identity until I was called a racial slur at 17. My racial identity would be dismantled when I considered the idea of having a child. 

On June 20, 2019; I had a bittersweet moment when I looked at my wife’s ultrasound and learned that our baby would be a boy. A Black Boy. I was overjoyed at the fact that we would soon become parents, but I was overwhelmed at the possibility that my child may not have the opportunity to grow old. My fear was not due to issues with the pregnancy. I feared that this beautiful black boy, kissed by nature’s sun, may not be able to grow old because of an encounter with the police. Throughout this week, I have lamented over the fact that my “cute” son will likely soon be considered a threat and fit the description of a criminal. His choices of walking/driving through the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time could cost him his life. As a father, I am unable to protect my child from the ills of this world and, if I am honest, I can even protect myself. 

My wife is fearful of me wearing hoodies (Trayvon) because they are unsafe to wear. With the gyms being closed, I have not kept up with my cardio exercises because even jogging isn't safe (Ahmaud). In a conversation with a dear friend this past week, I lamented over the genocide of Black People at the hands of police officers. I wrestled with the idea that Blacks could be murdered in an interaction with Police Officers, even if they are compliant (Philando). If I am honest, I don’t even feel safe in my own home (Breonna and Botham). When I see their faces plastered on shirts, billboards, and social media posts, I see my son. When I see the hashtags, I see my wife. When I see the lifeless bodies, I see my siblings. When I hear a non-guilty verdict, I see my nieces and nephews. When I see peaceful protests and demonstrations, I see my cousins. When the media desecrates the image of the victim, I see my aunts and uncles. When I see injustice, I see my friends. When I have nightmares that it’s coming closer to home, I see Myself. It takes my breath away. 

As an asthmatic, I give value to breath. At times, I wake up in the morning and I can’t breathe. Even though I comply with medical recommendations for this dis-ease, without much warning, I can find myself struggling to breathe. When I heard my brother, George Floyd say “I can’t breathe”, I could relate. I know what the wrestle of gasping for breath is like when a dis-ease has its knee on your neck, choking you to the point of lifelessness. His lynching revealed that while the surface of Martin Luther King Jr's Dream has been realized, we have not overcome. I struggle with this as I was raised to admire America's grandeur. With songs like God bless America, we were indoctrinated to believe that God was on the side of the American people. But I can't admire America. I can't admire its blatant racism and bigotry. I can’t admire its immoral and self-promoting sinfulness. When I look around this nation, it seems like God is distant. In an age of social distancing, it seems more like we have become distant from God. Whether we distanced ourselves from God or God has distanced God’s self from us is simply inconsequential. The issue here is that we can’t continue living in the distance between us. Yes, the ozone layer is healing and the smog clouds over our Metropolitan cities are starting to diminish; but I don’t see God. 

Some would argue that because of these things that I have named, God is in our midst, but I would argue differently. God didn’t mess up what was cleaned up, so God alone shouldn’t be held responsible for the cleanup. I don’t see God in the moral fibers of this country. I don’t see God in the murders of unarmed and peaceful black people. In 2016, we learned that America had an issue with kneeling. Kneeling serves as an act of solidarity and humility. People kneel to pray. People kneel to propose. The act of kneeling caused Colin Kaepernick to forfeit the profession that he loves, in the pursuit of justice. But, in 2020, we learned that America doesn't have an issue with everyone kneeling. America has an issue with black people kneeling. From this, I have surmised that in America, it's okay to kneel on a black man's neck but it’s not okay to kneel on a white man's field. As a result, peaceful protests have happened all across the United States. Domestic Terrorist groups are set out to desecrate the image of the Black community, by looting and burning down businesses in our communities. People are in outrage about the events that have taken place. 

In all of this, Christians around the world are supposed to be celebrating because Sunday was Pentecost. Pentecost is my favorite day in the liturgical calendar, as it marks the coming of the Holy Spirit and the birthing of the church. Pentecost is a time where people of all nations gather and celebrate their God, with their tongues and expression. This year, we are unable to celebrate in that manner because of the restrictions from the pandemic and the effects of racism in our country. Instead of celebrating, we are in a deep lament. The text shares that on the day of Pentecost, God sent the Holy Spirit into the world through the sound of a violent wind. With all the issues that seem to separate us, I believe that there is a need for us to acknowledge the Pentecost experience. In our text, people are likewise in a state of anguish. Jesus had already died, been resurrected, and ascended into heaven. No longer did the disciples and other followers have the ability to lean on Jesus for help. As a matter of fact, the followers of “The Way” were being persecuted and ridiculed. In the eyes of society, Jesus had not been resurrected, rather his body had stolen by his disciples to suggest he was alive. Jesus had appeared to his friends but many others didn’t believe. They persecuted the followers of Christ because, without the presence of Christ, they were without power. This is true for too many of us; without the ocular presence of God, we have no power. But this is what this text eradicates. Acts 1:8 reminds us that when the Holy Spirit comes upon us, we will have power. 

The text is careful to say that when The day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all together in one place. The text is not suggesting that they were just in a physical place together but they were together in spirit. They were all physically together because they all had the same mindset. For God to stop seeming distant to us, we have to come together. We have to unify. We have to strategize. What is the will of God for America? We will never find it if we try to figure it out in our own space so that we can get the glory. The gift of this text is collaboration. People of all nations and tongues came together for the sake of one thing, Power. But not any type of power, but power for service. Power to Peacefully Protest, without looting. Power to Speak up against injustice done to all people. Power to make this world a better place. Power to clean up the residue of America’s sin of racism. And when we come together to eradicate this, may our God show that there is no distance between us. But until we reach that place, where the sins of our nation are eradicated and God no longer seems like a distant memory; I pray the words of Numbers 6:24-26 over you: 

The Lord bless you and keep you;

 the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; 

the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.