God drives a Tiguan

God has come a long way since driving around on a donkey, I thought to myself this week while driving behind a Volkswagen Tiguan with a number plate that said 'God'.
For the uninitiated in cars, Tiguan is the German car maker's sport utility vehicle. God is probably finding it tough to get around these days and that is possibly why he chose a four-wheel drive to go round Malta's streets.
The vision of this 'God' in front of me while driving along Aldo Moro road in Marsa reminded me of the days when I used school transport to get back home. At one point in secondary school we had a bus driver, who used to swear his head off incessantly. It earned him the nickname 'il-midghi' - the one who swears.
He acknowledged the obsessive amount of swear words he used and many times tried to bite his tongue only to let loose at the next corner when a driver tried to jump him. But quaintly, despite the swearing that mingled God, his mother and her son in a litany that included the odd sexual organ here and there and a couple of vivid halucinating descriptions of where to fuck off, on his dashboard was a sticker proclaiming his love for the Virgin Mary.
The public display of faith is an interesting facet of a society born and bred in Catholic tradition. Some do so out of tradition, others as some form of good luck charm to ward off evil, some do so simply for the artistic or cultural value of the display and yet some do so because they truly believe they should expose what they believe in.
I am not sure what category the Tiguan and the il-Midghi fall in but in all this I sense a yearning to establish one's identity, whether as part of a community or as an individual. The outward expression of faith may even be in complete conflict with the person's behaviour but who cares. After all life is full of contradictions and in true Catholic fashion, God forgives.
But for those who believe in God, or who like me are on this eternal journey of understanding, the question keeps popping up: who and where is this God?
Is he the one driving the Tiguan? Is he the one that allows Fukushima to blow up? Is he the one who is present in the beautiful yellow butterfly that fluttered in the field next to where I live the other day?
They are the same existential questions I asked when still a secondary school student and which came back to me while driving behind God's Tiguan. I do not have the answers but I possibly worry less about them today as I concentrate on the here and now. The afterlife can wait!