"Where Are You?"

Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-13

February 17, 2002

John W. Wurster

"Where are you?" God asks Adam (Genesis 3:9).

That’s the very first question in the Bible. Where are you?

There are lots of questions in the Bible: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Psalm 22:1); "Whom shall I send?" (Isaiah 6:8); "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth" (Job 38:4); "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" (Luke 10:25);"What do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?" (Mark 15:12).

We often think of the Bible as an answer book; but, perhaps just as importantly, the Bible is also a book of questions.

And the first question is this: Where are you? That’s a good question for this first Sunday in Lent, a time in the church year traditionally given to self-reflection and spiritual examination. Where are you in your life? How’s it going? How’s it really going? Where are you?

It’s a probing question, perhaps a painful question. Certainly, it’s that way for the human being called Adam in this famous passage from Genesis. Remember what happens: God has given Adam a beautiful garden. God has given Adam work to do in that garden. And God has given Adam some limits, some boundaries for life in that garden (2:15-17).

It is a fine life that God has given, a life of trusting and enjoying what God has established. God has provided for Adam and Eve in every way, including the giving them the gift of choice.

The humans in the garden make the choice to listen to another voice. They choose to listen to the voice of sin and death, the voice of the serpent. They choose to take the serpent’s advice and ignore God’s limits and eat from the tree, thinking, hoping, that the serpent’s words just might be true and they would indeed become like God themselves.

It’s a bad choice. Their unwillingness to live in God’s world on God’s terms has destructive consequences. Because of their wrong choice, Adam and Eve are ashamed to be in each other’s presence, so they hide themselves behind fig leaves. Because of their wrong choice, they are also ashamed to be in God’s presence, so they hide under the trees. That’s when God’s question echoes through the garden, bouncing off the walls of sin and ringing through the lives of all of us whose bad choices have brought about our destruction in one way or another. "Where are you?"

Having rejected what God had given, having fallen for the seductive voice of sin and death, having chosen their own way, the humans refuse any responsibility for what he has happened. "The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave fruit from the tree and I ate," Adam says (3:12). "The serpent tricked me and I ate," the woman says (3:13). "It’s not my fault." "My friends made me." "Everyone else was doing it." "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." "It felt good." "How was I supposed to know it was wrong?" "I couldn’t help it." "It just happened."

From the beginning we humans have been good at making bad choices and even better at failing to accept responsibility for what we’ve done.

Where are you? Where are we? Lots of the time, we’re hiding under those trees with Adam and Eve, ashamed to be in each other’s presence, afraid to be in God’s presence.

But God refuses to give up on us. God will not let us go. God keeps after us. God keeps calling us back. God keeps inviting us to the table.

There are a lot of good things about having completed my Doctor of Ministry studies at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. But there are some things I miss, like having an excuse to be in Austin, Texas for a couple of weeks in the winter. I also miss seeing Lydia. She lives with her parents near the seminary, and they were gracious enough to let me stay with them when I was in town. We had a lot of fun. During my last visit, Lydia sent me to school each day with one of her stuffed animals, "Mr. Rabbit." I guess she thought I could use the company and the protection that only Mr. Rabbit could provide.

When the two weeks of class were over and I packed up to come back home, Lydia was prepared to send Mr. Rabbit with me as I left. I explained to her that I wouldn’t be back in Austin for awhile, so it would probably be best for Mr. Rabbit to stay with her. "Where are you going?" she asked. I told her I was going to Ohio, but since she’s a Texan that answer didn’t compute. "Where are you going?" she asked again. This time I just told here I was going on a long trip.

She looked at me with that quizzical expression that four year olds have. "Well, you’re going to need some food," she concluded. She sprinkled some "special nourishment" into my open hands. "This is food for your long trip," she told me with a note of concerned hospitality.

Where are you? Where are you going? Good questions I think as this season of Lent unfolds before us. Perhaps even better questions as all the days of our lives unfold before us. Where are you and where are you going?

Good questions to think about as we come to the table and find the God who has sought us out and who meets us where we are and who offers us food for the long trip.

Thanks be to God!

Amen.