Redemption and Hope in a Broken World

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         Scripture provides numerous examples of followers of God trying to reconcile their belief in a perfectly good, loving, and powerful God with their circumstances:

•  Joseph, who was sold into slavery before languishing in Egyptian prisons for years in spite of God’s very personal interaction with him; 
• David, “a man after God’s own heart,” who spent years of his life on the run from a homicidal king; 
• Job, an extraordinarily godly man who lost everything; and the disciples of Christ, all of whom faced considerable persecution.

     While some religions view pain as an illusion, an obstacle to be overcome through the correction of the mind, Christianity believes that pain and suffering are very real.  As a result, followers of Christ have sought to develop a theology that provides a coherent framework for understanding this dilemma. Christians face the difficult task of embracing the reality of evil and making it compatible with the existence of God as portrayed in Scripture: all-loving, all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-good. 

     Christians have developed different responses to explain why the goodness of God is not compromised in the face of evil, even evil that is apparently unredemptive in any fashion.  Perhaps good things such as free will more than compensate for the pain experienced during life; perhaps, as in John Hick’s appeal to mystery, there are unknown goods that make up for the suffering we see; perhaps there will be a system of rewards and punishments in place after this life that will adequately provide a framework in which one will see the justice and love of God vindicated.  

     Defenders of the Christian faith have developed these explanations, or theodicies, to better understand the ways of God.  A theodicy, rather than being a mere defense of the compatibility of God and evil, seeks to proactively show God’s reasons for allowing evil to occur.  And even though Scripture allows one to peer into and analyze the issue of pain, Scripture often seems less concerned with the defense of God’s character than with the development of individuals as they seek to handle the difficulties in life. 


     This is the religious or emotional aspect of pain, as opposed to the philosophical or apologetic: rather than question the existence of God because of the presence of pain, the religious aspect of the Scriptures helps the believer whose faith is tested by trials.

   The question moves from, “What kind of God could allow this to happen?” to “What is the proper way for me to view instances of suffering and pain?”  We often expect God to meet us on our terms; from a Scriptural perspective, we are required to meet God on his terms. 

Shoveling the Drive of my Soul

     A strange winter blanketed Traverse City, Michigan this year.

     It didn't snow much; for a town that relies on tourist dollars, no snow news is bad news for snowmobilers and skiers. Personally, I wasn't terribly disappointed - I think I shoveled my drive three times.  But my kids wanted to sled, to build snowmen and make snow angels and fight from snow forts, to have a reason to come inside shivering and miserable and drink too much hot chocolate made with real milk and chocolate syrup.  They wanted a winter that froze their bones, with snow that glistened in the sun, hung on the trees, and buried us in our drive for five or six school days.

   But it hasn't been that kind of winter.

    This spring has been equally odd. In early March, we hit a stretch of eighty degree days, shattering all kinds of records. Confused trees budded; lost ducks returned too quickly; allergies wreaked havoc six weeks early. That was right after the worst snow storm I remember since moving here 15 years ago. We got 30 inches in about 24 hours at my house: heavy, blustery snow that snapped trees and power lines, ushered in states of emergency, and immobilized two minivans in my driveway for a couple days.
     Now we are back to normal, but the grass, flowers, and cherry trees don't know they aren't supposed to be out and about yet, and the frost is taking its toll on their cheery buds. We wanted a spring that gently and beautifully eased us from the snowpocalypse into the ordinary Jimmy Buffet summers of Traverse City  We wanted to shop at Menards, foolishly buying flowers in the heat of the moment that we could actually plant, not move inside every night for four more weeks.

  But it hasn't been that kind of spring.

  My life has had some Traverse City winters.

     I didn't like them; I wanted them to be real winters too. I don't like to grieve a little bit, or be slightly depressed, or just a little disappointed.  If I have to experience a spiritual or emotional winter, I want both barrels so it's worth my time.

     It's one thing to feel kind of down and just mope through the day; it's quite another to curl up on the sofa with an appetizer sampler platter from a local restaurant and bury my depression in The Road and deep-fried anything.  Now that's an emotional winter.  That's what I prefer - not because I like it, but because I can wrap my mind around the problem.  I want to shovel the drive of my soul until my back aches.

     I know I can't get around it, but I don't like just vaguely miss my Dad after watching We Bought A Zoo! That's like having a low-grade inflammation that makes me just queasy enough to feel slightly out of sorts.  I want The Road; I want my loss to hit me like a hammer, to lay me low, to MATTER. I want life to stop as my emotions get snowed in by a blizzard of grief, burying my happiness, snapping my schedule in a way that might take days to fix. I want a really good excuse for hot chocolate.

   That kind of winter.

    My life has had some Traverse City springs. 

    In my heart and soul, I want lilacs and beautiful flowering weeds to slowly and steadily push through last fall's unraked dead leaves and this winter's lingering piles of dirty snow so these persistent annuals can bring their beauty to my soul's decrepit yard.
     I want the hibernating couch potato side of me to overdo my first relational spring hike with my wife.  I want to rake my heart's yard not because I have to, but because the promise of summer love compels me.
     When it comes to spiritual spring, I want to see my character explode, my relationships blossom, my career be full of new momentum and life.

 But that's now how life often works.  

     Winters both spiritual and physical have corroded my soul. They eat slowly away at me, not cold enough to freeze me or brutal enough to move me.  They just...fester.  Nothing is strong enough to break or shut down anything, so I never pay attention like I should.  But there is also nothing to skate, sled, or ski on either. It's a season where nothing has to be ventured, and nothing is gained. It is Laodicean Winter.

   Springs both spiritual and physical tempt me with the promise of renewal, then turn on a moment's notice and freeze the new life that began.  Habits are gone! Until they emerge as methodically as ever.  God is close! Until He's distant. My ADD is contained! Until my brain freezes for a day and leaves my angry, desperate, and isolated. I finally know how to parent! Until I ignore my kids, and snap at them before the coffee kicks in in the morning, and we ride in silence to school.

That's how winter and spring usually work. 

     Ending this post on a really positive note doesn't seem honest.  I believe God honors honesty, and He knows my heart.  He made winter and summer; He knows what it means to be cold and lifeless, as well as to have warmth and hope. He knows I  sometimes don't know why I am unexpectedly cold, surprisingly hopeless, or oddly surprised by tenderness and love.

     He knows how He intended winter and spring to be in the world He first made. He know how they actually are now.

     He also know what summer is for, and that I'm waiting for the warmth of the Son.

Bridging the Chasm

   Gary Fritz, writing about a time he was with someone who was dying: 

     "Imagine, if you will, knowingly chatting with and touching someone who would soon be doing the same with the risen, victorious Jesus Christ. Perhaps that is an odd thing to consider. 

     I realize full well that a significant chasm exists between our world and the 'hereafter.' As Christians, we do not embrace the Egyptian-like belief in sending the dead into the netherworld with possessions and tokens that will help them in the afterlife.  But it was tantalizing to imagine that here...in a person who would soon be "there," I could reach out and almost touch eternity.  When I touched her hand, I was keenly aware that she would soon be touching Jesus. 

     The sensation was like one I had when watching the end clips from the movie The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, specifically the scene in which the wardrobe stands alone in an otherwise empty room, its door slightly ajar, and emanating from within it the unmistakable, beckoning light that could only be shining out of Narnia... 

     This was the anticipation of a faithful pilgrim who was ready to leave this vale of tears, the 'shadowlands,' as C.S. Lewis called life here, and move 'further up and further in.'"

- Gary A. Fritz, "Heaven's Gate," in Touchstone

When God Weeps

Paul Tautges has an excellent site for counseling. As the author or co-author of six books and a number of booklets, he has written about topics ranging from grief recovery to personal discipleship. Recently, he posted a list of God’s purposes in our suffering as found in When God Weeps: Why Our Sufferings Matter to the Almighty, by Joni Eareckson Tada and Steve Estes. It is a list worth considering.

• Suffering is used to increase our awareness of the sustaining power of God to whom we owe our sustenance (Ps 68:19).
• God uses suffering to refine, perfect, strengthen, and keep us from falling (Ps 66:8-9; Heb 2:10)
• Suffering allows the life of Christ to be manifested in our mortal flesh (2 Cor 4:7-11)
• Suffering bankrupts us, making us dependent upon God (2 Cor 12:9)
• Suffering teaches us humility (2 Cor 12:7).Suffering imparts the mind of Christ (Phil 2:1-11)
• Suffering teaches us that God is more concerned about character than comfort (Rom 5:3-4; Heb 12:10-11)
• Suffering teaches us that the greatest good of the Christian life is not absence of pain, but Christlikeness (2 Cor 4:8-10; Rom 8:28-29)
• Suffering can be a chastisement from God for sin and rebellion (Ps 107:17)
• Obedience and self-control are from suffering (Heb 5:8; Ps 119:67; Rom 5:1-5; James 1:2-8; Phil 3:10)
• Voluntary suffering is one way to demonstrate the love of God (2 Cor 8:1-2, 9)
• Suffering is part of the struggle against sin (Heb 12:4-13)
• Suffering is part of the struggle against evil men (Ps 27:12; 37:14-15)
• Suffering is part of the struggle for the kingdom of God (2 Thess 1:5)
• Suffering is part of the struggle for the gospel (2 Tim 2:8-9)
• Suffering is part of the struggle against injustice (1 Pet 2:19)
• Suffering is part of the struggle for the name of Christ (Acts 5:41; 1 Pet 4:14)
• Suffering indicates how the righteous become sharers in Christ’s suffering (2 Cor 1:5; 1 Pet 4:12-13).
• Endurance of suffering is given as a cause for reward (2 Cor 4:17; 2 Tim 2:12)
• Suffering forces community and the administration of the gifts for the common good (Phil 4:12-15)
• Suffering binds Christians together into a common or joint purpose (Rev 1:9)
• Suffering produces discernment, knowledge, and teaches us God’s statutes (Ps 119:66-67, 71)
• Through suffering God is able to obtain our broken and contrite spirit which He desires (Ps 51:16-17)
• Suffering causes us to discipline our minds by making us focus our hope on the grace to be revealed at the revelation of Jesus Christ (1 Pet 1:6, 13)
• God uses suffering to humble us so He can exalt us at the proper time (1 Pet 5:6-7)
• Suffering teaches us to number our days so we can present to God a heart of wisdom (Ps 90:7-12)
• Suffering is sometimes necessary to win the lost (2 Tim 2:8-10; 4:5-6)
• Suffering strengthens and allows us to comfort others who are weak (2 Cor 1:3-11)
• Suffering is small compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ (Phil 3:8)
• God desires truth in our innermost being and one way He does it is through suffering (Ps 51:6; 119:17)
• The equity for suffering will be found in the next life (Ps 58:10-11)
• Suffering is always coupled with a greater source of grace (2 Tim 1:7-8; 4:16-18)
• Suffering teaches us to give thanks in times of sorrow (1 Thess 5:17; 2 Cor 1:11)
• Suffering increases faith (Jer 29:11).Suffering allows God to manifest His care (Ps 56:8)
• Suffering stretches our hope (Job 13:14-15).

Crying Yet Again

I woke crying early this morning. Again.

I awoke from a dream in which I had been talking with my mom.  In my dream, I turned and looked to the side and there was my Dad, just sitting next to me, looking at me and smiling slightly as if he were still alive and close. 

This was not like the dreams I have written about before where the veil between this world and the next seemed temporarily lifted so that I could have those final conversations with my father.  This was in many ways just an ordinary, bizarre dream:  I think I was in a desert, riding on a ski lift of up side of a mountain. 

Unlike those dreams that followed his burial so closely, I didn’t even try to talk with dad. I've had ten years to figure out that he is gone. I get it.  I sobbed while I talked to my mom steadily, knowing dad wasn’t there, and that he wasn’t real, and that I couldn’t talk to him, and that my life had to carry on in the worlds of both the sleeping and awake.  So glad to see him yet again, and so sad knowing it was for but a moment.

I didn’t look away until he disappeared from his desert ski lift seat, dissolving into distant memories as easily as he had appeared. I knew he would go, and that I would have to wake up, but it still broke my heart from start to finish. I never tried to touch him or talk to him.  I just...remembered him more poignantly than I usually do, and that was enough.  It had to be.

That’s why I woke up crying early this morning.

Someday, when I truly wake up, all the best dreams will be real. Comfort one another with these words.