I just finished a powerful, haunting novel by Mary Doria Russell called The Sparrow. It’s a sci-fi story about a team of Jesuit (Catholic) missionaries who travel to a recently discovered alien world to make contact with the extra-terrestrial peoples there. There’s so much beauty and depth in this book that I often had to put it down and take time to digest what I’d just read.
One scene that I’ve been chewing on for a couple weeks followed
the death of one of their party, the puzzling illness of another, and now the
disappearance of two more of their companions. One of the priests and a doctor
named Anne are talking through it all, when she asks where was God’s plan in
the death of their colleague or in the possible loss of their two missing
friends.
“God knows,” he said, and there was in his tone both an
admission of defeat and a statement of faith.
“See, that’s where it falls apart for me!” Anne cried. “What
sticks in my throat is that God gets the credit but never the blame. I just can’t
swallow that kind of theological candy. Either God’s in charge or He’s not.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that complaint about
Christianity, but it is the first time I’ve stopped and considered how I’d
answer it.
Now, I feel a little out of my depth here, honestly. I’ve
lived a pretty comfortable life. The worst thing that’s ever happened to me is
a bad Star Wars movie that came out once. I exaggerate—but I haven’t had a
particularly hard life. I’ve lost family and friends, sometimes suddenly and unexpectedly,
but most of my experience of suffering has been second-hand. I’ve helped people
bury their spouses and their children. I’ve witnessed shocking poverty and need,
as well as the effects of depression, addiction, and suicide. So, while I admit
I’m not the ideal candidate to answer Anne’s question, I also like to think that
I’m not totally unacquainted with the moments in life that make people ask it.
So why does God get the credit but never the blame?
I think this is a good question. Maybe it's one you've asked yourself before. I want to share two things. I’ll just mention one this week
and get into the other one next time.
The first thing is, if you have been hurt or disappointed
and want to blame God, tell him so. Don’t hold those feelings back. God
can handle it.
After all, the Lord gave us the book of Psalms.
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (13:1)
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so
far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?” (22:1)
“You placed me down in the deepest pit, in places dark
and deep. Your anger smothers me; you subdue me with it, wave after wave.”
(88:6-7)
I don’t think that blaming God for something is unfaithful.
In fact, sometimes, I think that’s exactly what faith looks like. That’s
what it looked like for the authors of scripture. That’s even what it looked
like for Jesus, on the cross (Matt 27:46).
And that faith made them cry out to God in their hurt.
If you stumble over this question, like Anne did in the novel, then maybe
the answer isn’t scriptural arguments or theological speculations. Maybe the
answer isn’t thinking about God. Maybe the answer is talking to
God—giving God a talking to. It could be that the way through this
struggle is less intellectual and more relational, less about getting everything
straight in your head and more about getting some things straight between you
and God.
You can listen to this week's devotional below!
3 comments:
Mighty good
Thank you so much‼️
Can’t wait til next week
RW
Thanks for the thoughts!
I look forward to your devotions each week.
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