"How big is God?" This seemed like such a trivial question, but it was asked with such earnestness that I dared not dispatch it too quickly.

"No, I'm serious Mr. Callaham, haven't you ever thought about it, how big is God?"

No, to tell the truth, I hadn't really ever thought about it. And with the exception of that one encounter, I can say that I really never do think much about it at all. I mean, seriously, it is a rather unique question, and it's certainly not one that our scriptures or our tradition give us much help on.

Sure, we can paste something together. 1 Kings 6 says that the Temple of Solomon was 30 cubits high, and Isaiah 6 says that the hem of God's garment filled the temple. So we can figure that God is roughly 1550 feet tall. Or, if we hold to Christian doctrine sprinkled with a good dose of forensic anthropology, we could argue that Jesus of Nazareth, in whom was contained all the essence of divinity, was an average Semitic man of the first century of the Common Era. Therefore, God is 5'1" tall and weighs about 110 lbs.

OK, now I admit, that line of reasoning may have become somewhat frivolous. While it is evidently fair game to contemplate the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin, perhaps the physical space occupied by the divine does not bear directly on our belief system. But I would suggest that a certain understanding of the Bigness of God - just not one that is expressed in feet and inches - is central to coming to terms with the dynamics of salvation.

It is vogue to say, that "God is bigger than all our problems." While I, as a perpetual worrier, kind of like this notion, I think that even such a generous statement confines God in some important ways however. God is bigger than my problems, yes, but he is far bigger than that too.

God is bigger than my, or any other person's problems, but the Gospel explains that he is also bigger than my joys too. He is bigger than my anxiety but he is also bigger than my contentment. He is bigger than sin and bigger than my righteousness. He is bigger than my affirmation and bigger than my rejection. God is bigger than my life itself and yes, he is bigger than death (be it mine or his own). God is big enough so as not to be moved by the Hallelujahs of those who strew his way with garments and palms. And he is even big enough to contain the violent rage of Temple Authorities and the Crowd. He is indeed big enough to spread out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross and draw all things unto himself.

Beloved in Christ, on this Passion Sunday we are invited to enter the last phase of our Lenten journey; the joyful contemplation of the mighty acts of God. The first of these contemplations is the hard juxtaposition of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem with his miserable and horrific exit. When faced with the reality of the absolute breadth of this experience, it would be easy for us to simply grasp our heads and wonder "How can God be big enough to hold all of these things together in one, single plan of salvation?" And the answer is this. "How cold he not be?"

Amen.