My most favorite painting on earth is Van Gogh’s Starry Night.  When I reflect on my childhood, I remember vividly one night sleeping over at my grandmother’s house. Oh the pure joy of a sleepover at grandma’s; the smell of freshly baked cookies and warm milk; the loving embrace only to be found in a grandma’s arms, later safely tucked in under a warm blanket, and a prayer for protection and blessing. I woke up in the middle of the night, drew the curtains and saw the African bush veldt bathed in the soft light of the moon. Gazing up at the starry night, the wide expanse, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of God’s presence.  The African night sky can be magical.  Stars so bright and so many that one can almost reach out and pluck one from the heavens.  It was as if God’s care and love for this world spread like a blanket of stars over the landscape. I have seen many different night skies, in many different parts of the world, but none compares with the night sky in my grandma’s window, none compares with the African night sky. To gaze upon that night sky is to experience God’s care for this world – to experience God’s presence.  The African landscape tends to have this effect on one.  This is after all, according to archeologists, the birthplace of humans.   Not far from where I grew up, the oldest skull of Homo sapiens was discovered.  This is where our roots are and where our walk with God probably started.   Truly, I think it would be hard to find an atheist in Africa, even in the midst of all the pain and suffering.  It is in the ruggedness, the wildness, that God can be found.

I sometimes wonder if Van Gogh knew about the night sky covering Africa. He must have. The first time I saw Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night, it immediately took me back to my grandmother’s house as a child. With masterful brush strokes, Van Gogh portrays the vibrancy, the vastness, and greatness of the night sky.  Flowing paint strokes which bring to life the stars on the canvas, evoking  the knowing of God’s care as it  spreads like a blanket of stars over the town on the canvas, connecting the townsfolk with God as the Cypress and church steeple reach for the stars. Sometimes when I feel blue I take my print of Starry Night out of the closet and savor the awareness of God’s care and presence; lying once again all snuggled up under a warm blanket in my grandma’s guestroom.

I grew up on a small holding in the Highveld (a high altitude grassland).   As a child I loved to be outside when a thunderstorm was brewing.   The air in Africa is always filled with sounds, but just before a thunderstorm the air would grow eerily silent as if all in nature were holding their breath in anticipation. The air was laden with a thick burnt smell.  Running out in front of the storm the air would literally roll over the grass like a huge wave towards our house.   The skies would grow dark and the heavy clouds would start to rumble.  Then suddenly the whole horizon would be lit up with a multitude of lightning strikes and the air would vibrate from the loud thunder.  I would stand there, overwhelmed, in awe and wonder of the greatness of our Creator.

By now it must be obvious that I am deeply fond of being in nature. Truth be told, the times I feel disconnected from God are the very times my soul thirsts to be in nature.  It is in nature that I can experience God’s Spirit as nowhere else.  This is of course not a unique experience.  Many people experience and see God’s hand in nature. As one of my favorite preachers, Fred Craddock, puts it:

No area of earth is so desolate and barren that one cannot see, if one is sensitive to it,

the artist’s  name down in the right hand corner : G-O-D.

People encounter and experience God in many different ways, whether through dreams, or visions, or silence, or meditation, or prayer, or in the loving care of a friend.

I have to admit, there have being times in my life, when my world was falling apart, the future dark, uncertain, and bleak.  In those times, even my beloved painting could not help me to be aware of God’s presence.  Sooner or later it happens – overwhelmed by distress, we feel abandoned, desolate – God forsaken.  It’s in the very times of need that we experience the absence of God.  ”How, can I experience God in my crises?  How can I find God?” is a plea pastors hear many times from those who are in grief or facing adversity. “Do not turn your face from me in my distress, do not turn your back on me!” the Psalmist calls out to God many times over in the Hebrew Scriptures. This intense feeling of abandonment reminds me of the tragic figure of King Saul. When Saul and his army were surrounded by the Philistines, facing sure death and defeat, fear filled every inch of his being, and he desperately called on God – but God did not respond. The Prophet Samuel was dead – the same Samuel who brought word from God many times to Saul. But now, Saul was orphaned, so alone, so desolate. He did not know which way to turn, what to do, as he faced an invincible enemy.  He experienced the absence of God so intensely that he sought out in desperation the help of a fortuneteller – he was willing to try anything to break the silence, to hear God’s word for him in his distress.  Some time or other, each one of us finds our self in an impossible situation – when the future looks hopeless; when we don’t know how to proceed forward; don’t know which way to turn. It is then that we seek God’s guidance to discern which way to turn – but there is only silence. It is a lonely and desperate place to find oneself.

Only a small group of people experienced the living presence of the incarnate God. As they followed him, witnessed his character, listened to his teachings, saw what he did, how he behaved; the followers of Christ realized that to be in Jesus’ presence was to be in the presence of the living God.  As the time of his crucifixion and his return to God was approaching, Jesus gathered his disciples to prepare them for what lay ahead, to comfort them. He understood the pain and desolation his absence would cause his followers. So he made them a promise: “I will not leave you orphaned, I will not leave you desolate.”  Did that comfort his disciples when they laid his body in the tomb? When he left them behind and returned to God after his resurrection?  And what about us? How can we, who live centuries after the fact, experience the living presence of Jesus?  When you are faced with fear, grief, distress, adversity, and uncertainty, does it feel to you as if God is absent? Do you sometimes wonder if God withdraws from us? Maybe it is not that God is absent, just that we experience God as absent. It is then that we cling to Jesus’ promise in the Gospel of John: “I will not leave you desolate.” How do we manage when we experience God as distant? This is what we will be talking about this Sunday.

Peace,

Kobie

This entry was posted on Friday, July 10th, 2009 at 2:40 am and is filed under This Sunday's Service. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.