In ‘God, where are you?’ by Fr Gerard W. Hughes SJ, I came across a familiar caricature of God; God as ‘good old Uncle George.’ Uncle George’s relatives used to take their little children to meet him every Sunday. This narrative has the following frame work: “Uncle George is the family favourite, enormously wealthy, highly influential and is loved by all. He has a white beard, gruff voice, and lives in a large mansion. At the end of their Sunday visits he turns to the children and says, ‘I want to see you here every Sunday dears, and if you fail to come, let me tell you what will happen to you.’ He then leads them to the hidden underground cellars of his beautiful big mansion. The heat becomes intense, the smell of burning flesh noxious, and the children hear hideous screams. Uncle George opens a steel door revealing blazing furnace into which little demons are hurling men, women and children. The children are frightened; they have never ever imagined anything like this can be hidden in such a beautiful mansion; they have never seen any such horrible things even in their worst nightmares. He tells the children with a devilish delight in his eyes that the furnace is the ultimate destination if they do not visit him regularly and obey his instructions. And then he leads the children back to their parents. The children, filled with fear, are taken back to their own homes in the evening. On the way, one of the mothers lean over and says,’ don’t you love Uncle George with all your heart and soul, mind and strength.’ Remembering the furnace the children answer, ‘Yes, we do.’ They are conditioned to obey Uncle George’s orders, but in their hearts they consider him a monster, but dare not admit this to themselves, their parents or to anyone else.”

Different version of this picture of God is familiar to all of us. This is the kind of deliberate distorted images of God that we often pass over to our children and then we blame children of having a problem in reciting, ‘God is love.’ Many such deformed images of God can dominate our lives. Some of the Old Testament stories and narratives have a tendency to create an ever lasting fear in our mind. Abraham taking Isaac to slaughter is a difficult image to come to terms with; seeing Christ crucified is not also an easy image. When I was nine years of age, one Good Friday preacher in our village church made me believe that I shouted for the release of Barabbas; I run all the way home crying my heart out at the unbearable shame and guilt on my part for being in the part of the crowd which crucified Christ. The scene was so real to me; it haunted me for several days, I still can remember the agony of it after all these years. It will take a very long time to move from childhood acceptance of what have been taught to real experiential understanding of a God of love and mercy through the life and mission of Jesus Christ. Although faith is the basis of a religious life, for many it is the fear instilled in them, which is the motivating force; fear of judgement and damnation; fear of fire and brimstones. For me, it took nearly seventy years to have the courage to write the following simple, uncomplicated, image of the Lord that I come to know and love gradually. This time, the encouragement came for writing this reflection from reading an email that I received on the New Year’s Eve from a gentle, God-living, friend of mine who expressed a caring and deep felt concern for his seven grandchildren growing up in the United States. Knowing him, I thought that he had no reason whatsoever for such a concern because his blessed grandchildren are living in the everyday realities of God’s loving care through their interaction with their parents and grand parents.

I was able to think so because I had the following image of God for the last few years, as I started to have a meditative life through the grace of God, as a great and loving grandfather sitting in his magnificent chair looking out into the world and beyond and I as a little mischievous boy pulling his magnificent flowing rob and making a nuisance. Although he has many things in his mind, he always has time to look behind the chair for me and to give me an encouraging nod. This hide and seek game has been a wonderful experience, I do wrong things and then hide, then God misses me, but he comes after me and finds me in my fallen and sorrowful state; I cannot look up, I am looking down with the burden of guilt on my back as a naughty school boy before his headmaster. God restores the relationship, things are normal again for a while. Then again it is my turn to go and hide from him because I am busy with my own things and I am comfortable in my new situation for a while and particularly boasting about my mediations and private prayers, I have other companions and things to engage me in the place of my God; then something happens, an internal alarm bell rings, it is my turn again to go to him and disturb him when I need something from him very badly because I cannot hide from him any longer. I hide, but he always seeks and finds me. On reflection, life has always been like that for me.

Jesus himself played a hide and seek game with his earthly parents when they took him to the Temple; his parents lose contact with him for three days, while he was doing ‘his heavenly Father’s business’ in the Temple. Here was a young boy breaking away from parents, but his parents were willing to accept this as part of his growing up. After an initial dressing down from his parents for his escapade Jesus went down to Nazareth with his parents and became obedient; and he advanced in wisdom and age and favour. Then again after his baptism at river Jordan he disappeared to wilderness for forty days and emerged after dealing with Satan and his temptations for his great ministry. In all this he was constantly in touch with His Father and understanding his Father’s will to declare the manifesto for building the kingdom of God through ‘the sermon on the mount.’ It was through ordinary everyday events in Nazareth and Galilee that Jesus showed us God’s extraordinary love and involvement with human condition. It is only when God is presented to us in human affairs and conditions that we begin to long for God.

I find great comfort in this image of God as lovable grandfather, in stead of fearsome judge and executioner, an image developed from my childhood experience of living in a God-fearing family with a wonderful grandfather. It took almost a life time to recognise God in ordinary things of life and to realise that God is not locked up in unbreakable codes of theological formulations of words and phrases. I now see things as God’s grace and favour, for me it is simply a ‘grace and favour existence’ to see God as the God of everyday experience. This image has given me a freedom to go and pull on his flowing, seamless, robe when I need his attention. In this image I do not have to worry about intermediaries, it's me and my God. I am sure, this is all what God needs from us, to be like children; in this state of mind we will have the freedom to play hide and seek or any other happy games with him. This innocence of faith is possible for all of us now because of the revelations in Jesus Christ of a loving and dependable God. Therefore, we can be totally sure that he will find us through his unconditional love and abundant grace. The blessings and happiness of this abiding, indwelling experience of God is a gift far and above any other gifts that one can wish for. This gift is available to us regardless of the circumstances that we find ourselves; this is the source of our God-given freedom and happiness even in the midst of discord. But I also realise that this freedom comes with a built in responsibility for the common good of others around us. A longing for God is our first step in our blissful spiritual journey. In Psalm 42 we see the expression of such a longing: “As the deer pants for the water brooks, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, the living God.”

We read in the Ramayana how Lord Rama removed evil from the world through his epic battle with Ravana. He of course destroyed all the evil in his path, the sin and the sinner at one stroke. Apart from, supposedly, cursing a fruitless fig tree, Jesus did not curse any one. Instead he brought love, healing and blessings. He hates sin, but not the sinner; sin is the separation from God; sins are things that we do for which we cannot thank God for. From Old Testament theology to the New Testament we see this change in emphasis. As we evolve and grow under his abundant grace, God is giving us a more refined means to have a relationship with him through images and modalities available to us from everyday life in our families and work places. Perhaps, my grandfather image of God is just a beginning of such a rudimentary understanding. I appreciate and honour others who understand God at another level or at a much more mature level. We are all in this journey together; let us give a helping hand to those who need a little help in this pilgrimage. The desire for the divine is a necessary step for us to go forward in living together in harmony with peoples of other faiths and other understandings.