Have you ever felt like nobody was there?
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?
Have you ever felt like you could disappear?
Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

These are the opening lines to “You Will Be Found” from Dear Evan Hansen. Dear Evan Hansen is a musical love letter to anyone who has ever felt alone, awkward, and unable to connect.

It’s a complex, layered production: amazing music, compelling story, and nothing easy. It’s not black and white, or even shades of gray; it’s screaming technicolor. Every character is wounded and carrying pain. Evan Hansen’s dad left when he was seven. Since then, he doesn’t really trust anyone or anything. He feels like he’s waving through a window, and no one is waving back; probably because everyone else is preoccupied with their own pain. His pain leads him to make questionable decisions. Evan is not the hero; he’s almost an antihero. Yet he’s a compassionate one, which leads me to examine my own questionable decisions.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve made some blunders. Usually when I’m hungry and/or in need of a nap. Or for no good reason at all, it was just mean and unwise. And sometimes it feels like these decisions pile up and we’re unworthy of love. Have you felt like that?

Have you felt alone? Lonely? Is there a pain you carry that feels like no one would understand if you told them? Does it keep you from joining a group or connecting with others? Dear Evan Hansen explores isolation, disconnection, and mental health. What we really need is someone to see our secret side… the things we hide…and instead of being repelled, become more connected because of it.

I believe this is how God sees us. That is, if Jesus is to be believed, and I believe in Jesus. He is good news for me. Yet many religious folks say God is disgusted by our shadow side. We are east of Eden. Instead of compassion, we judge, label people wicked, and leave it at that. Too often, those who are supposed to be most like Jesus act least like him.

I love the Bible. I find it true not only because it happened, but because it’s happening. The Pharisees and scribes had rules about who was in and who was out. Yet Jesus comes, and his harshest words are for the religious leaders who cling to their rules instead of God’s love for all people. Jesus critiqued those who used holy tradition and scripture to divide rather than to connect. We see the same thing in religious folks today.

In today’s Gospel… There’s Nathaniel. I get the feeling that Nathaniel has nothing nice to say. He feels like a bitter person. Maybe he just says what he’s thinking without a filter. I’m sure you know someone like this. And if you don’t, you might be that person in your friend group.

Nathaniel’s friend Philip comes up and says, “We have found the messiah! It’s Jesus of Nazareth!” To which Nathaniel replies, “Nazareth?! Can anything good come out of Nazareth?!”

I love it. It’s so human. Start with the humanity of the text, and you’ll be surprised by the divinity.

But Philip must be used to Nathaniel and he says, “Come and see.” No shame. No “turn or burn.” Just invitation.  Philip and Nathaniel walk up and scripture says, “When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, ‘Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.’”

Nathaniel is blown away. He asks how Jesus knows him, and Jesus says, “I saw you under the fig tree.”

Nathaniel, ever black-and-white, all-or-nothing exclaims, “You ARE the Messiah!”

Jesus said, “Do you believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than that.”

Nathaniel may have felt his sarcasm was too bitter for public consumption. He may have felt constantly misunderstood. He had a shadow side that couldn’t be hidden as well as others’ could. And then he is finally seen by Jesus: not only seen, but welcomed and invited in. Not only by Philip, but by Jesus himself.

When I was little, my parents divorced. The priest said divorced women were going to hell. That was troubling. I always felt alone, weird, different, and angry. I distrusted men because they would just leave. Why bother? And when my grandpa left when I was 15, it only reinforced that fear.

Yet I had the church. I had scripture. I clung to it. I prayed the “Our Father” because at least there was a father that wouldn’t leave or betray. I would read Psalm 139 constantly. “You have searched me… you know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.” God knows everything about us. This Psalm suggests that God does not love us despite our failings. God already knows them and loves us totally and completely. This is a love and grace that can carry our anger, snarkiness, sarcasm, and distrust, and return them with invitation and love. A heavenly Father who won’t run or betray. One who stays. God is Immanuel, with us. That has been a great comfort in my life, to this very day. It has led me to wonderful people who have seen the good in me and nurtured me. It gives me purpose and hope for the future. Because of the witness of others, I want to help folks who are like me feel at home in their brief stay on this planet. Less alone. More seen and understood. More compassion in the world, less isolation and judgment. That has been the gift of the church to me. Thank you.

There’s a moment in Dear Evan Hansen that feels like Psalm 139. Evan has finally admitted what he has done: lied, misled, felt like a burden and a horrible person. He felt so hopeless that he attempted suicide, which is why he was wearing a cast at the beginning of the movie and on our bulletin covers.

Yet in the face of this revelation, Evan’s mom shows the love God has for us. She sings that after Evan’s dad left, “I will never forget how you sat up and said
‘Is there another truck coming to our driveway?
A truck that will take mommy away?’
And the house felt so big, and I felt so small
The house felt so big, and I—
And I knew there would be moments that I’d miss
And I knew there would be space I couldn’t fill
And I knew I’d come up short a million different ways
And I did
And I do
And I will.”

I love that she’s so honest and human. We fail one another. We miss each other quite often. Thank God the covenant Jesus gives us at the table isn’t for perfection. It’s for the forgiveness of sins. It’s a way back to each other after we miss one another.

Evan’s mom continues, “But like that February day
I will take your hand, squeeze it tightly and say
There’s not another truck in the driveway
Your mom isn’t going anywhere
Your mom is staying right here
Your mom isn’t going anywhere
Your mom is staying right here
No matter what
I’ll be here.”

That’s where I see the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. Forget what you’ve heard. God is not distant. God is not a disapproving sin miser, making a list and checking it twice to find out who’s naughty or nice. God comes to us. The Word made flesh dwells among us. And God does not start with those who think they have it all together. God starts with the outcast and sinner, goes right to the lonely, and says, “Come and see. You will see greater things than this! You will do greater things than I!”

Friends, our God isn’t going anywhere. God is staying right here. I hope this finds you as it found me. I hope we, as a church, live the cruciform life: loving God with everything we have, and loving our neighbor as ourselves: the vertical and the horizontal. As we seek God, we are compelled to care for our neighbor. In prayer and private devotion, we are made better for others: more fruit of the Spirit, more compassion, more understanding, less judgment of ourselves and others. And as we meet our neighbor, we see God operating in their lives, which leads us back to God.

This is how, for me, God’s mercies are made new each day. Where can we go from the Spirit? Where can we flee from God’s presence? Nowhere. God is already there. God is with you. God is with us. God is in your neighbor. God is above, beside, beneath, in your past, present, and future. The love of God is total. There is nothing you can do to earn it. It is a brute fact revealed to us in Jesus Christ, who inspired Paul to write in Romans 8: “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The Good News is that we have been found! We do not need to manufacture worth. God already knows us without the performance. Now that we’ve been found, let us go find the others. Amen.