To continue where we left off, Mack, still in flashback, has just discovered that Missy is missing. The other families at the campsite immediately jump in to help search for her. When it is discovered that no one has seen her, they quickly inform park authorities and local police, who organize search parties.
After some investigation, it is discovered that Missy is the latest victim of the Little Ladykiller, who is responsible for at least four abductions and murders of children, all girls, all under age ten. He always leaves a ladybug pin at the abduction site.
Mack is utterly destroyed. As the investigation continues, they find the shack. Mack is called in to identify something that could be Missy's. What he finds is her torn, blood-soaked dress.
Mack slides into deep depression, slipping down the if-only slope: if only he had not taken the kids on the trip, if only he had paid more attention, if only. He reflects on how his inability to bury her body only increases his failure as a father. His faith in God becomes unfeeling and separate.
He continues to wonder about the note signed, "Papa." God just doesn't pass notes, right? In seminary, as it says in the book, "[Mack] had been taught that God had completely stopped any overt communication with moderns, preferring to have them only listen to and follow sacred Scripture, properly interpreted, of course. God's voice had been reduced to paper, and even that paper had to be moderated and deciphered by the proper authorities and intellects. It seemed that direct communication with God was something exclusively for the ancients and uncivilized, while educated Westerners' access to God was mediated and controlled by the intelligentsia. Nobody wanted God in a box, just in a book."
Back to present times, Mack decides he will go meet God, or Papa, or whoever, at the shack. He is unsure why, but he feels drawn, compelled, to find out who sent the note and why. Talking to his friend Willie, he says, "I guess part of me would like to believe that God would care enough about me to send a note. I'm so confused...Maybe what happened to Missy is God's judgment for what I did to my own dad." (More on that in a later post)
The next day, Mack drives deep into the mountains to the shack. As he gets closer, the memories and pain become more and more acute. When his entire body cries out to stop heading toward the source of his pain, his mind and heart propel him forward. Upon entering the shack, he can still see the faded bloodstain where Missy's dress once lay. Mack's emotions burst forth in angry shouts at God: "Why? Why did you let this happen? Why did you bring me here? Of all the places to meet you--why here? Wasn't it enough to kill my baby? Do you have to toy with me too?" He screams his hatred for God, and when all his emotions are spent, he wonders aloud where God is, accusing Him of never being around when Mack needed Him. Mack contemplates suicide.
He manages to pull himself together and off the cold, frozen ground, and walks outside, where he notices that it is suddenly springtime -- the snow is melted, the trees are blossoming, and in place of the shack stands a cozy log cabin. Mack hears voices inside. Perhaps God showed up, after all.
Mack walks up to the cabin, curious and apprehensive. Suddenly, a large, radiant African American woman bursts forth from the door, wraps Mack up in her arms, and spins him around, shouting his name "with the ardor of someone seeing a long-lost and deeply loved relative." Mack becomes overwhelmed when he notices that the scent she is wearing is the same as his mother's perfume.
Just then, as Mack's emotions are beginning to get the better of him and tears are welling up behind his eyes, a young Asian woman appears and collects his tears. Mack tries to look at her, but is unable to focus on her -- he can only describe her by his impressions, not observations. Behind her stands a Middle Eastern man dressed like a laborer. He is relaxed, a bit rugged, but warmth emulates from his smile and his eyes, and Mack immediately takes a liking to him.
Mack asks who they are, and the large woman says, "...you could call me what Nan does." Surely, Mack thinks, this was not the Papa who sent the note? The Middle Eastern man introduces himself as Jesus, and the Asian woman introduces herself as Sarayu. Mack is very confused. He begins to think that, since there are three of them, this might be a Trinity thing. However, there are two women and one man, and none of them are white. Mack had naturally assumed that God would be white. After pondering this, Mack asks which one of them is God.
"I am," said all three in unison.
I really enjoyed chapter 5. It is challenging to the common conception of God, Jesus, and the Spirit as distinctly white and distinctly male. I will admit, I've always thought of God as distinctly white and distinctly male. I've even thought of Jesus as distinctly white, even though I cognitively understand that he is, in fact, of Middle Eastern descent. I never really thought of the Spirit as anything but...well, a spirit. It is refreshing and challenging to me to see the Trinity portrayed as something other than what I had always thought. Perhaps
Another passage that challenged me was the passage quoted earlier about how God's voice has been reduced to paper, and how communication with God had to be interpreted by the right people who are educated enough to interpret it. I just don't believe that God can be reduced to anything, much as we might try. As humans, we like to fit things in boxes to understand them better. But we can't put God in a box. We will never be able to understand God, but may that's because we are not meant to. Maybe that's where faith lies. As it says in the opening of chapter 5, "Perhaps there is a supra-rationality: reason beyond the normal definitions of fact or data-based logic; something that makes sense only if you can see a bigger picture of reality. Maybe that is where faith fits in." I would say that faith fits into reason where reason cannot go any further. Like the Scripture says, "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Heb. 11:1)
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