This morning's news features the recovery of the sole survivor of the recent tragic airline crash in Kentucky.
As CNN reports: James Polehinke, who was the flight's co-pilot, can move only his head, and tears often well up in his eyes, said Antonio Cruz, Polehinke's mother's boyfriend. He said the 44-year-old had only gained consciousness on Tuesday.
Polehinke's first sentence is: "Why did God do this to me?" He did not blame the crash on himself, the captain, the tower or the devil. He blames God.
As someone who has been given a terminal diagnosis, I think I can speak to the theological implications of such questions. They are huge, I believe.
Yes, I believe in the sovereignty of God, but if one believes that the devil has absolutely no autonomy (is merely a puppet on God's string), then God might as well be half good, half evil. Then you have a yin/yang God, a force with a light side and a dark side.
But Jesus made abundantly clear what is also apparent in the Old Testament. The devil has limited autonomy. He is at war with a good God, and for reasons that surpass my attempts at a comprehensive understanding, is still exceedingly dangerous.
Jesus makes it quite clear who does what in John 10:10. The enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy. Jesus comes to bring life.
So, the question should always be, "I wonder why I'm being attacked by the enemy?" No, this does not preclude personal responsibility as some have alleged. Actually determinism does that, not a modified dualism such as the Bible teaches.
Remember, Satan has always attacked God on the issue of His goodness, not the issue of His power. In Genesis, he made the argument that God was trying to hold Adam and Eve back from their full potential.
If we do not understand the work of the enemy, we are in danger of falling into the trap of becoming "mad at God," which so many have done.
If you think God has done bad things to you, you then wonder why He is mad at you and you begin to picture Him as a capricious tyrant, not a loving Father.
When we do that, the Devil wins and we lose--bigtime.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
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5 comments:
I believe some of us at some given point in time have asked similar question. Perhaps the question is more like…”Lord, why did you allow this to happen to me.” We understand that the enemy comes to kill, steal and destroy. And the Lord brings good out of every situation. But when tragic situation happens is because we weren’t wearing our "spiritual armor"? Or because of the first “Adam”…etc?
Brother Grabill, some may disagree with me, but I am similarly bothered when people say God protected them when someone standing next to them bites the dust. (I blogged about this briefly, for further comments and my justification: “God protected her….”.)
I do believe God protects and God smites. But, generally, without the finger-writing on the wall, there's simply no way for us to know when God is actively protecting us, or giving us a pass.
Similarly, there's no way to easily know when God is actively "smiting" us, or whether we're just suffering the rain that falls on the just and the unjust alike. As I note in my blog post, due to the fallen nature of the world, his grace is already and always actively guarding us:
"That we are alive at all is a miracle, not a given."
Regards,
Rich
BlogRodent
Here goes -
If I do something good and instead of keeping it secret i.e. between God and myself then the reward I receive is from men and not God. So in this I made a choice, I chose mans praise and favor over God's - a choice that appears to be a part of all issues facing humanity.
Having said that and reading "Matthew 5:45" that sheds light on the extent of God mercy on all flesh (irregardless it seems) so - "That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." I'm again faced with a choice - do I wallow in pity and curse my circumstances (Like Jonah - get mad at God) or do I sing in my chains and pray while guards are to my left and right (Like Paul and Peter). In choosing I am asking for the providence of God's intervention because I'm finite and blind to the potential in any situation facing me - blind to what the potential is due to my immediate circumstance. In accepting God's rain and making my prayer"...O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." I accept the hand of God outstretched to do what no man (mankind) can do in comparison. I accept the impossible possibilities from a loving heavenly Father.
>>Brother Grabill, some may disagree with me, but I am similarly bothered when people say God protected them when someone standing next to them bites the dust.
Dear Rich,
Thank you for your contribution. I'm not so sure I'm as bothered with that as you. When a tornado/hurricane/fire/tsunami sweeps through a neighborhood and one home stands untouched, why not thank God? I realize we need to be sensitive toward those who were "not protected," but it seems to me the logical extension of this is to never be thankful for anything, since someone somewhere in the world is not enjoying the same blessings.
On the other side of things, there are times I know I'm just experiencing the "rain," but then there are other times I know I'm being disciplined. If there was no way to know that, then scripture passages on thanksgiving for deliverance or passages on discipline from God would have no meaning, no?
I confess: I'm addicted to meaning in a world some (not you!) call meaningless.
Thanks for your follow-up, which demands a little clarification from me both in my thinking and writing. Though I'm sure this little missive won't succeed. Here are some more thoughts.
I'm not suggesting one shouldn't give thanks for escaping suffering or tragedy or simple mishaps. All good things come from God, and none especially moreso than the sweet blessing of health, wellness, and survival whether in the face of calamity or in its absence. No, I think thankfulness and gratitude are healthy and holy.
I think what I react to is the apparent self-centeredness of such public proclamations. It seems to me that very often the tragedies we see owe not to God's active agency to visit suffering on mankind, but to man's own failure to live honorably and in fear of God. Of course, the root of all suffering today is found in Adam's sin--were this not a fallen world, there'd be no thorns. But in a more immediate and practical sense, much of the suffering we experience today can be traced to the neglect and corruption of our fellow men and women. Tornados, to refer to your example, would not have quite the sting they do were it not for for greed, poverty, and stinginess. (Land is cheaper in tornado-prone areas, insurance more expensive, and flimsy trailers too vulnerable.)
A tornado strikes down my neighbor's house but not mine? I am grateful that I was spared, but shouldn't I also be grateful for the opportunity for a community to band together and help my neighbor rebuild? Shouldn't I be delighted at the opportunity to invite them to live in my house while the rebuilding occurs? Too often, though (perhaps almost always), there is so little connectedness in our communities (they aren't really communities any more) that we are only grateful that another's loss is not also my loss (and, besides, insurance will take care of them, right?).
I guess my complaint is not so much our public proclamations of gratitude for escaping calamity, but our tendency to only seem grateful in the face of such escape — and then others must fill the void left for the victim by blaming his suffering on God. But Christ said that suffering provides an opportunity for God's work to be revealed and that widespread calamity is the beginning of the birth pains of the Kingdom:
"Neither this [blind] man nor his parents sinned ... but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." (John 9:3)
"Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains." (Matthew 24:7-8)
So, it seems, we ought to have as much to be grateful for in light of the calamity itself as in our escape. This is outward-focused gratitude, though, and not inward. It is an active gratitude, not passive. It is a gratitude that prompts service and not a sigh.
I am not grateful enough, I think. I don't say this to induce "survivor's guilt," but to emphasize that I too easily forget that life at all is a miracle, that when I wake in the morning with functioning digits and flexible legs and clear lungs, that I should praise God for the miracle of wakefulness, health, and the ability to sleep.
Nobody I know relishes the thought of embracing tragedy or suffering for the sake of the suffering itself. I know I don't. But it seems that for the saints of old, like Paul, they were able to welcome suffering to the point of contentment in the light of the greater blessings of God enjoyed throughout life and in light of the greatest blessing and greatest hope of all: life with God in eternity free of earthly calamity.
I need to be reminded daily to be grateful that it was Christ who died on that cross for my sins, and not me. And this is the point of communion: it is to be a celebration of redemption and victory, not a maudlin display of sorrow and survivor's guilt. Christ's death for us should be a source of great, enduring joy and happiness for what he purchased for us once and for all, for all time. If that were the case, for me, then no tragedy I could experience would be able to separate me from that joy and that hope.
I wonder, instead, why I don't suffer more. With so much sin, neglect, and corruption in this fallen world, it is truly a miracle that there is not more disaster than we see.
I'm sure this is far too long and too rambling a post, and for that I apologize.
I appreciate being provoked to more thinking, though.
Regards,
Rich.
BlogRodent
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