Welcome back, dear one! Can I let you in on a secret? I am a bit of a workaholic. I am not totally sure if it is in my personality to be a workaholic (and so I gravitated to those jobs), or I worked in demanding jobs (that turned me into a workaholic). I guess it was probably a little of both. Several years ago, when I was in a particularly demanding part of my career, I often got to the office around 5am (the earliest my keycard would let me into the building). The building was always pitch black (save the emergency lights) and the silence roared. I couldn’t take it. The silence felt awkward. Uncomfortable. Loud. Uncertain. So I listened to music as I worked. Admittedly, this posed a huge risk. I chose to drown out the silence (read: my discomfort) knowing I risked some unsuspecting person finding me and hurting me.
I faced a different kind of silence my sophomore year of college. I was taking Introduction to Christian Theology (a requirement for every student at the Private Christian University I attended). One of our requirements was that we complete a term paper on a topic (any theological topic our professor happened to approve of). There was one topic we had discussed that had caught my attention and I knew that I had to write my paper on it: theodicy. Theodicy is defined by the Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry as:
“Theodicy is the study of the problem of evil in the world. The issue is raised in light of the sovereignty of God. How could a holy and loving God who is in control of all things allow evil to exist? The answer has been debated for as long as the church has existed. We still do not have a definitive answer, and the Bible does not seek to justify God's actions.”
All those days ago, when I was a young college student, I was positive I would find the answer. I eagerly let my professor know my plans by email. Later that day I got an email. I opened it, anticipating nothing much other than “ok, thanks”. Instead, the message asked to talk before she agreed to the topic. I was puzzled. She had taught on the topic, so it could not be an issue of controversy. I scheduled an appointment and moved on.
When the day came, she asked me to shut the door behind me as I came in. This felt oddly out of character her. She was always light and funny, but today she was serious.
“Why do you want write on this topic?”
All those days ago, when I was a young college student, I was positive I would find the answer. I eagerly let my professor know my plans by email. Later that day I got an email. I opened it, anticipating nothing much other than “ok, thanks”. Instead, the message asked to talk before she agreed to the topic. I was puzzled. She had taught on the topic, so it could not be an issue of controversy. I scheduled an appointment and moved on.
When the day came, she asked me to shut the door behind me as I came in. This felt oddly out of character her. She was always light and funny, but today she was serious.
“Why do you want write on this topic?”
I explained that I found it interesting in as much detail as I could.
“Ok, but why”
I stopped. A little confused, a little frustrated, I admitted that I didn’t really know.
She asked about past painful experiences. Embarrassed, I told story after story as I sobbed in her leather office chair. Once I stopped, she paused.
Don’t those pauses feel like an eternity?
“This is going to be a hard topic. You have to be prepared to finish your paper and have no answer.”
I nodded my head in agreement, but internally, I told myself she was wrong. I would be the one who figured it out. Ahhh, the narcissism of youth…
As was predicted, I finished that term with no answer. I finished with more questions I had started with. I finished with every answer I knew of decimated. I finished with silence. When I turned my paper in, I was convinced I had failed. I somehow had failed to find the elusive answer (you can disregard the fact that it has stumped theologians for the ages, but I was sure I would solve it in a semester). When she returned it, I was shocked to see I had not failed it. A grade and “good work”, but nothing else. You can imagine how much failure I felt then!
In life, there is deafening silence all around us.
Mothers with babies never born or with sick children, crying out to God in prayer, that end up burying their children.
Children raising each other due to a parent unable to care for them; begging that their parent be healed each night and waking up to the same situation every morning.
People living in addiction crying out for the cravings to end.
Spouses being abused, crying out, begging God to change the heart of their abuser.
Victims of sexual abuse praying for it to end.
Citizens of war-torn countries lifting their voices to the Lord without ceasing, hoping for an end to the violence and bloodshed that rocks their countries.
Friends, families, and loved ones; on their knees, pleading for God to spare their loved one from death, angrily pointing out that the evil live and their loved one is nothing but good.
It feels like everywhere you look, the screaming silence is the norm, and anything but it is a rarity.
When the silence roars, it can feel like there is no way we can ever hear anything or anyone else. It can feel like the silence will never end.
There are always answers offered. Opinions (masked as Biblical knowledge or theology) offered up to cover the silence. Dear one, can we talk about these answers? I think it is so important, because some of them are so (unintentionally) hurtful that they send people running from God.
“Ok, but why”
I stopped. A little confused, a little frustrated, I admitted that I didn’t really know.
She asked about past painful experiences. Embarrassed, I told story after story as I sobbed in her leather office chair. Once I stopped, she paused.
Don’t those pauses feel like an eternity?
“This is going to be a hard topic. You have to be prepared to finish your paper and have no answer.”
I nodded my head in agreement, but internally, I told myself she was wrong. I would be the one who figured it out. Ahhh, the narcissism of youth…
As was predicted, I finished that term with no answer. I finished with more questions I had started with. I finished with every answer I knew of decimated. I finished with silence. When I turned my paper in, I was convinced I had failed. I somehow had failed to find the elusive answer (you can disregard the fact that it has stumped theologians for the ages, but I was sure I would solve it in a semester). When she returned it, I was shocked to see I had not failed it. A grade and “good work”, but nothing else. You can imagine how much failure I felt then!
In life, there is deafening silence all around us.
Mothers with babies never born or with sick children, crying out to God in prayer, that end up burying their children.
Children raising each other due to a parent unable to care for them; begging that their parent be healed each night and waking up to the same situation every morning.
People living in addiction crying out for the cravings to end.
Spouses being abused, crying out, begging God to change the heart of their abuser.
Victims of sexual abuse praying for it to end.
Citizens of war-torn countries lifting their voices to the Lord without ceasing, hoping for an end to the violence and bloodshed that rocks their countries.
Friends, families, and loved ones; on their knees, pleading for God to spare their loved one from death, angrily pointing out that the evil live and their loved one is nothing but good.
It feels like everywhere you look, the screaming silence is the norm, and anything but it is a rarity.
When the silence roars, it can feel like there is no way we can ever hear anything or anyone else. It can feel like the silence will never end.
There are always answers offered. Opinions (masked as Biblical knowledge or theology) offered up to cover the silence. Dear one, can we talk about these answers? I think it is so important, because some of them are so (unintentionally) hurtful that they send people running from God.
~God will never give you more than you can handle.
Let's break this one down. First, this assumes that God intentionally brings suffering upon us. An all loving God would need to have a reason to put so much pain upon you. Most argue it is to teach you something, bring you somewhere, or introduce you to someone.
Dear one, this suggests that God cannot share knowledge or ensure you are where you need to be without creating pain and suffering. It also suggests He knows your breaking point and takes you to the edge, but not over it. This means God is either not all loving or not all powerful; and quite honestly, makes God incredibly cruel.
~God has a plan.
Let's break this one down. First, this assumes that God intentionally brings suffering upon us. An all loving God would need to have a reason to put so much pain upon you. Most argue it is to teach you something, bring you somewhere, or introduce you to someone.
Dear one, this suggests that God cannot share knowledge or ensure you are where you need to be without creating pain and suffering. It also suggests He knows your breaking point and takes you to the edge, but not over it. This means God is either not all loving or not all powerful; and quite honestly, makes God incredibly cruel.
~God has a plan.
This answer closely resembles the previous answer. This suggests that while God may or may not have been directly involved in the circumstances you are experiencing, He did have foreknowledge, and chose not to intervene. This is due to His “plan”. This is no less cruel than the previous suggestion.
~Suffering is the result of free will.
This is normally the argument that seems the most logical and palatable to the majority of folks.
Dear one, can I rock your world?
This is not much different than what we have discussed so far. If we are to believe that God is all-knowing, all-good, and all-powerful (omniscient, omnibenevolent, and omnipotent), then God would have had the capacity to know that free will would create pain, would have been moved to prevent it (because of His goodness), and would have found a way to create a way in which free will exists and suffering does not.
The reality?
Sometimes, there are not answers. Sometimes, all we are left with is silence.
Sometimes, when the silence is deafening, the only logical choice seems to be doubt, not faith.
Growing up, my Mom did counted cross stitch. I remember as a young kid, looking at the back the underside of her project. I could see the tangles, the long threads needing trimmed, the weird knotted spots. What I couldn’t see was the other side of her project. But I knew...the other side was always gorgeous. She was gifted, and it was always some beautiful piece of art. I just had to patiently wait until she was done to see the work from the other side.
Dear one, we are looking at life on the ugly, knotted, tangled side. All we can see is the underside of the artwork. But a day is coming. Isaiah 65:17 (ESV) tells us:
“For behold, I create new heavens. and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered. or come into mind.”
Dear one, today, the pain and suffering is real. The answers offered, the promises of a better tomorrow seem hollow. When the silence fills your life, reach out to Him. Scream. At the top of your lungs, scream every single thing on your mind...scream and yell until you can’t speak anymore. And then, listen.
Back in my days in that office, one day I forgot my headphones. I had to listen to the silence. As I took a deep breath I could hear the clock. I could hear people walking. I could hear people typing. And when I was really still, I could hear my heartbeat.
Dear one, yell until you can’t and then become still. Listen. That is where you will find Him. He has always been there. We just have to remove the headphones and choose faith.
~Suffering is the result of free will.
This is normally the argument that seems the most logical and palatable to the majority of folks.
Dear one, can I rock your world?
This is not much different than what we have discussed so far. If we are to believe that God is all-knowing, all-good, and all-powerful (omniscient, omnibenevolent, and omnipotent), then God would have had the capacity to know that free will would create pain, would have been moved to prevent it (because of His goodness), and would have found a way to create a way in which free will exists and suffering does not.
The reality?
Sometimes, there are not answers. Sometimes, all we are left with is silence.
Sometimes, when the silence is deafening, the only logical choice seems to be doubt, not faith.
Growing up, my Mom did counted cross stitch. I remember as a young kid, looking at the back the underside of her project. I could see the tangles, the long threads needing trimmed, the weird knotted spots. What I couldn’t see was the other side of her project. But I knew...the other side was always gorgeous. She was gifted, and it was always some beautiful piece of art. I just had to patiently wait until she was done to see the work from the other side.
Dear one, we are looking at life on the ugly, knotted, tangled side. All we can see is the underside of the artwork. But a day is coming. Isaiah 65:17 (ESV) tells us:
“For behold, I create new heavens. and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered. or come into mind.”
Dear one, today, the pain and suffering is real. The answers offered, the promises of a better tomorrow seem hollow. When the silence fills your life, reach out to Him. Scream. At the top of your lungs, scream every single thing on your mind...scream and yell until you can’t speak anymore. And then, listen.
Back in my days in that office, one day I forgot my headphones. I had to listen to the silence. As I took a deep breath I could hear the clock. I could hear people walking. I could hear people typing. And when I was really still, I could hear my heartbeat.
Dear one, yell until you can’t and then become still. Listen. That is where you will find Him. He has always been there. We just have to remove the headphones and choose faith.
In Love, JSB
PS: Don't forget your journal page here!
PS: Don't forget your journal page here!
No comments:
Post a Comment