HomelessThis all-powerful, all-knowing maker and sustainer of the universe,
Immortal, invisible, God only wise:
Where will you look for Him?

Will you look for Him in boardrooms and plush offices?
Any king worth the name must surely be found in palaces and mansions…?
Or perhaps in high-powered business meetings?

And in whose company will this God be found?
Surely you’ll find Him among executives, presidents, prime ministers and princes?
Or look among the leaders of megachurches and global ministries,
Or, at the very least, in leafy suburbs, among houses with two cars in the drive and two point four middle class children…
You’re sure to find Him there, aren’t you?

What? Don’t tell me you’ve drawn a blank! Then let me make a suggestion.

If you really want to find God:

Look in the crack houses, the drug dens, the forsaken places;
Walk amid the rubble of bombed-out Gaza City, where weeds grow among the broken, blood-stained bricks;
Wander through the streets of the red light district,
Or take a stroll through downtown Bangkok, where the words “male” and “female” blur into meaninglessness;

Stand with the homeless as they gather round a trash can fire that cannot stave off the bone-chilling cold;
Sit with the alcoholic who can’t afford to heat his cold, damp bedsit and wonders where the next meal will come from;
Cry with the pregnant teenager who has no idea what to do and wonders how she could have so completely messed up her whole life already.

If you would find God, then:

Turn your back on the gold-crested, royal palace where all is bathed in power and privilege;
Say goodbye to the influential, the wealthy and the worldly wise;

Take instead the dry, dusty road to Bethlehem, and when you get there,
Look among the poor, the downtrodden and the hopeless, hopeful ones –
Those who have no power of their own to shape their destiny or anyone’s.

And when you find them, kneel there in the straw, amid the common sounds and smells,
Lower your eyes from their lofty visions of heaven’s thrones,
Quiet the songs of triumph in your vain heart,

And behold this God, almost not deserving of the name,
Quiet and unpresuming in the earth,
Offering neither guarantee, nor fortune, nor status nor recognition,
Offering only his hand, soft and slight though it may seem.

Will you take it?

[ Image: Marc Brüneke ]