What God's Like - Hebrews 1:1-3

There’s a story told about young monk who entered a monastery where they observed a strict vow of silence. Only allowed to say two words every ten years.

After first decade, has his meeting with the chief Abbot and he says “Bed Hard”. Abbot nods, sends him on his way.

Another ten years go by – “Food terrible”. Abbot frowns a little and sends him on his way.

Another ten years pass and this time his chosen words are “Monastery freezing”.  Abbot glowers at him.

After another ten years, he’s shown in again. and he says  “I quit”. And the abbot says “I’m not surprised – you’ve done nothing but complain since you got here!”

This morning, as we begin working our way through the book of Hebrews, we start by thinking about God’s speaking to us: “In the past God spoke to our ancestors many times and in many ways through the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us through his Son”.

And we’ll come to all that in a moment. But if you’re anything like me you’ll find it hard to think about God’s speaking without reflecting a little on God’s silences as well.

What was going on in Biblical times? Did God really speak directly to these folk, or were they – like us – going on feelings and hunches and intuiitions most of the time? Have the rough edges of their experience been smoothed over in the reporting of them so it all sounds a bit more straightforward than it really was?

Or did God speak with total clarity; which begs the question why doesn’t God still speak in that way?

Has God stopped communicating? Or are we just finding it harder to tune in these days?

Or does God’s seeming silence simply confirm what many have thought for years – that’s we are alone in the universe after all?

Well I have a theory on God’s silence this morning, but we’ll get to that a little bit later.

For now, let’s think about God’s speaking.

“In the past God spoke to our ancestors many times and in many ways through the prophets.”

And they were a colourful lot, those prophets. Not many shrinking violets among them.

Hosea’s one you probably don’t know too well. God spoke to him. Told him to go down to the docks and find a working girl and take her home to be his wife. Now that’s a conversation I’d like to have heard.  Hello God? Sorry the signal’s breaking up. Are you in a tunnel? The signal’s rubbish. I  could have sworn you just told me to marry a working girl!

Can you imagine the town elders’ faces? Hosea – are you sure this is what God wants you to do? Turns out it was exactly what he wanted him to do. This was an acted parable, played out in front of the whole community so that they’d get the message. I’m Hosea, God’s saying. And Israel – you’re my chosen people. And do you know what? I’m tired of you seeing other gods.

This is what God’s like, says Hosea – he’s like a jealous husband who wants you to be faithful.

Or there’s the prophet Nathan: one you probably won’t know by name, though you might remember his story. King David’s bored; he’s prowling the rooftops looking for some action. That’s how people had to do it in the days before Tinder and Ashley Madison. (Don’t Google those, by the way). He saw a pretty woman bathing; her name was Bathsheba.  Had her brought to the palace. Kind of hard for her to say no in those circumstances. She gets pregnant. David tries to cover things up, but ends up having her husband, Uriah, killed.

And that’s when Nathan gets involved. Comes to the palace, tells the king about a terrible thing that’s gone on in the neighbourhood. There’s a poor man with one wee lamb he treats like a child. It goes everywhere with him. His rich neighbour, who has hundreds of sheep, has guests arrive suddenly and instead of slaughtering one of his own animals he takes the poor man’s lamb and has it killed instead. And David’s furious, threatening all kinds of revenge on that greedy swine until Nathan stares him down and says ‘You are that man’.

This is what God’s like, says Nathan – he cares about injustice.

Or there’s Isaiah – a prophet you might have heard of, though not many of us will have ploughed through the 66 chapters of the Bible that bear his name. Prophesied at a time when the people of Israel were in exile in Babylon and had long given up hope of ever returning home. And into that situation Isaiah brings these words from God:

¹    The desert and the parched land will be glad;

    the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

    Like the crocus, ²it will burst into bloom;

    it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

³    Strengthen the feeble hands,

    steady the knees that give way;

⁴    say to those with fearful hearts,

    “Be strong, do not fear;

    your God will come,

    he will come to save you.”

This is what God’s like, says Isaiah – he brings hope even in situations that seem hopeless.

Or think of Jeremiah – reminding us that we have obligations to the whole human family and not just those who are like us.

³This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Do no wrong or violence to the alien the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood.”

This is what God’s like, says Jeremiah – he has compassion towards those in need; and so must we.

Do you remember all this? - the writer of Hebrews is saying.  In the past God spoke to us in many ways through the prophets. But all their words have been affirmed and embodied in the most remarkable way in recent days; because now God has spoken to us in the person of his own Son.

All the prophets pointed to some great truth and said “This is what God’s like”. But the Son, uniquely, points to himself and says “this is what God’s like.”

And that’s an outrageous thing to claim, when you stop and think about it.

And that’s the thing folk often miss about Jesus when they bracket him with the Buddha, or Mohammed, or Ghandi as another enlightened human being. Much of what Jesus said was nonsense, if he wasn’t who he claimed to be – God in human form.

Jesus claimed to have existed before his ancestor Abraham was even born, a thousand years earlier. He said that people should think of him as the light of the world; the way the truth and the life. “If you want to know what God looks like” he said “then take a look at me”.

Those aren’t the words of a well-adjusted humble scholar! If they’re human words, they’re some of the most rampantly egocentric claims that anyone’s ever made!

But if they’re true – and I believe they are true - it means that in Christ, God has come among us in a unique way and we need to pay special attention to the truth he’s bringing us. Because “in these last days, he has spoken to us through his Son”.

But how did he speak?

Well, interestingly, not in lists of do’s and don’ts. He taught in parables – thoroughly human stories that draw you in and get you thinking. Stories that make you draw your own conclusions rather than giving you spoon fed answers. Stories that opened up discussion and thought rather than closing down on them.

But words can only take you so far, can’t they? Words by themselves are rarely enough.

I had a pastoral visit with a man last week who’s had a stroke, and communcation’s become very difficult for him. It’s terribly hard to make out what he’s saying and at one point I had to confess I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me.

The next few words were very clear. “You might as well go home then”. And I think that was the tiredness as much as frustration speaking.

But I didn’t take it personally. I took his hand, and he responded with a grip that was surprisingly firm, and I finished that visit with a prayer that he appreciated. That grip said what needed to be said when words failed us.

And I would argue that Jesus’ actions say at least as much as his words.

Making his way down to the Jordan to be baptised by John, not because he needed to, but because he wanted to identify with us in our need and our sin.

Making time for the least the last and the lost – the folk society ignored or actively shunned. Talking with a Samaritan woman, healing a leper, blessing little children as mothers brought them to him. Fraternising with conspicuous sinners, without ever losing his integrity.

Letting a working girl wash his feet with her tears; inviting himself to Zacchaeus’s home for lunch; running rings around the religious authorities; taking a dead girl by the hand and summoning her to life. weeping at the grave of a friend.

And finally, ultimately, accepting the path he was always destined to take – the one that led to the cross. Ironically, a visible sign of everything he tried to teach us through his words and through his actions – Love God with all your heart, soul strength and mind, and love your Neighbour as yourself.

750 years before Christ’s death,  Isaiah heard a word from God on this which still stuns us with its foresight and precision:

“We all, like sheep, have gone astray. Each of us has turned to our own way. And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”.

“In these last days” says the writer of Hebrews,  “God has spoken to us through his Son”.

And what has the Son said? He’s said “this is what God’s like”. There is no God behind the God. He who has seen me has seen the Father.

And maybe now we’re getting somewhere on that question of God’s silence.

If God’s quiet, maybe it’s because Jesus is his last word.

I imagine God pointing to Christ’s full life, and his vacant cross and his empty tomb and asking “What more do you want me to say?”

What more can I say to help you understand who I am, and the lengths I’d go to for you, and how I want you to live - with me and one another?

You know there are times in life when the significance of something that’s said in a conversation can’t help but bring a silence.

I’m dying; I’m pregnant; I love you; I no longer love you.

You don’t rush on from those words. It takes a moment for them to sink in. You have to reckon with them. You have to respond carefully because they are life-defining words.

I think God still has plenty to say; he still speaks in many different ways and at many different times.

But in a sense, those words are just the working out and application of his last word which is still hanging in the air two millennia on. The word he spoke in Christ.

The real question isn’t “Why Is God Silent?”

The Real Question is are you ready to break the silence and continue the conversation God’s already begun, in Christ?