A useless God?
WHEN Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt, the Jews saw Him as the fulfilment of their dream for a conquering messiah who would liberate them from their servitude and misery. Their expectation was bolstered by what they had seen Him do: He performed miracles, fed the crowds, healed the blind and the lame, expelled demons, even raised the dead.
No wonder, when Jesus asked his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter blurted out: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
But when the Jews saw Him carrying his cross on which his badly mutilated body would later be crucified, their hopes were crushed. How could He save them, when He could not even save Himself? Great was their disappointment that when Pilate told them he would grant freedom to a prisoner of their choice, the Jews chose Barabbas instead of Jesus. Peter himself betrayed Jesus whom he had just praised and adored.
How easily did they turn their back on Jesus when they found Him useless in achieving their goals! I am reminded by the taunting poem of Jose F. Lacaba: Poon naming hindi naman kinakalaban Mga mukhang tuyo ay ito ang dasal — Pansinin n’yo naman kami paminsan-minsan Gusto naming Diyos ‘yong may pakinabang.
We want a useful God, someone who will be there at our beck and call, who answers prayers according to our specifications, soothes our guilt and washes away our sins, gives us bread when we are hungry, heals us when we are sick, and comforts us in our sorrow. We want a useful God who gives everything and demands nothing.
I read a story of a man who, upon hearing the story of God asking Abraham to sacrifice his own son, declared: “I want to worship that kind of God, not the sort of a benign, tender, marshmallow, and undemanding god, a tamed deity who is there when we need it, and who is content with our Sunday service.” Abraham’s God does not love in a sentimental way. He loves fiercely and passionately, and He expects to be loved in the same way. He asks everything from us, and still wants more.
St. Thomas Aquinas once asked the question, “Why should we love God?” His answer was not “Because He is useful to us.” According to him, we should love God because He loved us first, even to the point of giving up His only begotten Son (John 3:16). These are not words that we must take lightly. They describe a God who is not unfeeling, remote, and indifferent, but one who will go to staggering lengths to prove his love for us. He gave up everything and stopped at nothing. He wants us to love in the same way.
In the gospel today, “Who do you say that I am?” is not a question calculated to ascertain the degree of knowledge that the disciples have of Jesus. He is not asking them: “How well do you know me?” Rather, he wants an answer to the question: “What do I mean to you?” For indeed, how can we love someone who means nothing to us?
God demands to be loved, not used for our selfish striving after personal gain. The useful God whom we manipulate to help us improve our life may be the God whom we want, but He is certainly not the real God.