We don’t often read the Revelation to John in our lectionary cycle, but this Easter season we have had a healthy dose of it.  Today’s lesson, on this last Sunday of Easter, proclaims to us the last verse of the last book of the New Testament: “The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints.  Amen.”

The Revelation reveals to us a vision, sometimes a psychedelic vision, but a vision nonetheless of the kingdom of God that is both yet to come and already present, for if you will recall, Jesus told us on a number of occasions that the Kingdom of God is at hand, it is present, it is here among us right here, right now.

So, when we look at the events of this past week, events that are only the most recent in the long litany of pain and suffering and death inflicted upon the most vulnerable among us, we may be asking ourselves, “Where is this grace of Jesus we were promised?”

Where was God on Tuesday, when evil entered a classroom in Texas and massacred small children and their teachers?  Where was God while their classmates hid among the bodies and blood, begging for police to come save them, while the responding officers spent an hour and twenty-one minutes in safety trying to decide what to do? 

Where was God last Saturday, while African-American grandmothers were shot and killed by a white supremist in the produce aisle of a grocery store in New York?

Where was God in the more than 200 school shootings so far just this year?

Where was God in the 17,666 other gun related deaths so far just this year?  That number, by the way, increased by 108 between supper time last night and 7:00 this morning.

Where was God?  Where was God?

Theologians call this “theodicy”, the problem of explaining why God allows the existence of evil in our world.  My purpose today is not to try and explain this, except to say that God did not cause the evil that exists among us, though God was certainly there comforting the afflicted and giving strength to the heroes – for the real heroes on this Memorial Day weekend were the teachers who used their bodies to shield their students from bullets.  The real heroes were the ones, like the little girl who risked her own safety to call 911 at least four times in the course of an hour and twenty-one minutes, begging the officers she could hear in the hallway to come in and save them. 

Now, my friends, I have been accused and criticized for speaking about politics too often, even this week, and some of our friends have used this as their excuse for leaving this Parish.  And while I respect their decision, I respectfully disagree with their assessment.  Because the murder of our children in their schools is not a political issue.  Racist attacks on our black and brown sisters and brothers is not a political issue.  Inhumane treatment of refugees on our borders is not a political issue.  As followers of the way of Jesus – who was himself a refugee who sought safety in a foreign land; who was himself among the poorest of his society; who, as a Palestinian Jew, was himself part of a persecuted religious community in a Pagan occupied world; who as a child would have witnessed the destruction of the city of Sepphoris and the crucifixion of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Jews (his neighbors – some even suggest that Joseph may have been among their number) who dared to stand up against evil and tyranny and demand to be treated with dignity, and equity, and humanity by their Roman overlords – as followers of this Jesus who says blessed are the poor; and blessed are the persecuted; and blessed are those who suffer for righteousness sake; who calls us to love our neighbors; to love our enemies; to care for the widows and the orphans and the refugees – as followers of this Jesus, it is our moral obligation to stand up and decry injustice when we see it, and to hold those who are in positions of power and influence accountable to ALL the people they are elected to serve, not just the ones who fill their pockets.  And let us make no doubt about it, the gun culture of this nation is a moral issue and it is a justice issue.

This is why I stand in this pulpit and call each of us to account for our own actions and inactions, to account for the ways we have both implicitly and explicitly participated in systems of injustice – to repent, as our confession says, of the things we have done and the things we have left undone.  For by virtue of our baptism each one of us was set apart, sealed by the Holy Spirit, and marked as Christ’s own forever.  In our baptism we became a part of the continuing incarnation, the continuing presence of Christ in this world. 

And so, as followers of this Jesus Christ of Nazareth, we must act.  We must make our voices heard.  We must not remain silent so that we can remain comfortable.  These are not political issues, though too many of our politicians have tried to make them so, and shame on them.  These are not political issues, these are issues of human dignity and the suffering of all humanity.  These are not political issues, but, as Bishop Budde of Washington said this week, they require a political response.  And if this is what you consider “talking about politics;” well, then you’re right.  I do bring politics into my sermons, because Jesus’ ministry was as much about standing up to a corrupt world order as it was about healing – and as long as I have the privilege of serving this pulpit I will continue to call out injustice and evil when I see it.  And, my friends, our nation’s lack of addressing this pandemic of gun violence is both unjust and evil. 

Where is God in all of this?  God was present with those children in Texas, holding them in his loving arms as they gave up their last breath.  God was there holding the hand of the teacher shot while using her body to shield her young students.  God was there with those parents as they begged, fought even, for police officers to enter that classroom and bring an end to the evil carnage.  God was there in their sobs, in their agony, in their grief.  God was present among those who could do nothing more than offer hugs and support.  God was there.  And God is present here, among us, and, through our baptisms, within us.

Last Sunday morning as we processed out of this church we sang, “I have decided to follow Jesus.”  Well, to follow Jesus means that we do the things that he did.  We offer our unconditional love, freely given, to those who are different than we are, to those we may not even like, but who are also children of God made in the same likeness and image of God as we are.  To follow Jesus means that we too take up our cross and follow him, even if it means following him all the way to Golgotha.  To follow Jesus is not an easy path, it’s not meant to make us comfortable, and it certainly won’t keep us safely hidden away from evil.  But when we follow Jesus, we know that we will never be alone.  At the Ascension, Jesus promised to send us an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, and we know that she is always with us, even in, especially in the midst of evil. 

Where was God this week?  God was right there in the midst of suffering.  God WAS the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, present at the very foundation of the world and will be there all the way to the end – whether that is some peaceful night in our sleep, or amid the cries of young children, shielding them from gunfire with our own bodies.  And on that day, we will be fully present with God, at one with God in that kingdom the Revelation speaks of.  That kingdom where the Spirit bids us to come – that kingdom that welcomes the thirsty and gives the gift of the water of life to all who come. 

Will we follow this Jesus?  This uncomfortable, some may even say political, Jesus?  For if we have decided to follow this Jesus, there is no turning back.  With the cross before us and the world behind us, there’s no turning back.  And though none may go with us, still we follow this Jesus, for there’s no turning back.  For this is the Jesus that will change the world.  Not the simple, Sunday School, blond haired Jesus, but the dark skinned, Palestinian  Jesus of Revelation who bids us to challenge the world of the status quo and demand justice for all God’s children. 

Where was God when the world suffered?



God is right here.  Right here in our hearts.  For we are the hands and the feet and the heart of God.  This is where God was, and is, and will be.  Amen.