Is God really good?

Sometimes I wonder if God really is good. When I watch the news, or read a newspaper, I wonder how we can keep saying "God is in control". When I see the terrible pain and suffering that people inflict on each other, not just in the world, but even in the church, I sometimes begin to doubt that God is even real. Where is he? What is he doing? Are we just wasting our time in church on Sunday?

What keeps me from tossing my Bible in the bin is reflecting on the life of Jesus. Jesus lived in a time when the blind and the lame and the leprous had no hospitals, no Medicare, no social services. He saw children tormented by uncontrolled epilepsy and dying of infections.

He lived in a country occupied by soldiers who didn't look to see if the media were watching before they beat people up. As he wandered about the countryside, he probably saw the mangled bodies of those who had been crucified. He heard his disciples arguing, vying with each other for status, making promises he knew they couldn't keep. He knew far better than I do what the real world is like.

And yet he kept talking as if God were in control. He spoke of God as our Father, who loves us and cares for us.

Perhaps Jesus was just crazy and deluded, ignoring what was in front of him and living in a spiritual dream world. If that's the case, we might as well go home. But if he was sane, then it's tremendously reassuring to know that he lived in the real world. He knew what it's like, and yet he could still trust his Father. He could still believe that his life and death had purpose and meaning. He could still work with his disciples, despite their failings. He didn't look around him and throw up his hands in despair.

Jesus could have used his divine powers to miraculously change the world. He was certainly tempted by that possibility. So why did he heal only a few? Why did he feed just a few thousand and not all the world's hungry? Why didn't he end the brutal political system of the time?

Who knows? The fact that he could have done these miracles, but didn't, suggests that what he did was more important than all of these potential miracles. It helps to bring things back into their eternal perspective.

Photo by British Library on Unsplash

The Evil That Men Do (review)

The Evil That Men Do, by Marcus K. Paul, (Sacristy Press, 2016) takes an unflinching look at some of the most shameful events in the history of the church, such as the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition. It also examines periods in Christian history which are commonly held up to ridicule, such as 16th and 17th century Puritanism, and Victorian religiosity and "do-goodism".

The book is well written, being neither simplistic nor contentious. The author makes no effort to deny or excuse atrocities. The cover tellingly shows Thomas Cranmer being burned at the stake by fellow Christians in 1556.

Through his knowledgeable and widely-sourced descriptions of the political and philosophical background of each era, Paul sets events in context. He also points to some of the positive impacts of the church and individual Christians in each era which are often overlooked. As he says, "the evil that men don't do because of their beliefs is hardly susceptible to recording and measurement", whereas their evil deeds live on in memory.

I read the book while researching and thinking about the First World War. Chapter 10, "Global War and the Abridgement of Hope", deals with the horrors of the war and the widespread loss of faith and changed attitude towards the church that resulted from it, especially amongst soldiers. The author takes up Wilfred Owen's argument that it was often the experience of other's actions that destroyed, or occasionally preserved, faith. He compares this to the Victorian era, when disbelief was more likely to result from pondering and debating abstract ideas.

He deals sympathetically with those who lost their faith. After the war, he says, many people were so psychologically scarred by what they had been through that no amount of rational argument for God's existence, let alone goodness, could move them. This was especially the case if it was offered by clergy who had not seen the brutality firsthand. (Things were rather different in America, where the experience of the war years strengthened Christian certainty and uniformity.)

Surprisingly, Marcus K Paul has little to say about Christian opposition to the war. He speaks of Christians, such as members of the Salvation Army, who courageously worked alongside the troops in the trenches, bringing cups of tea and comfort. His chapter has more to do with people's attitude to the church rather than the church's attitude to the war.

As is well known, the established churches on both sides largely supported both the war and conscription. More than one historian has argued that the war was portrayed as a holy war. Yet there were a few Christian voices raised against the war, including the great German theologian, Karl Barth. It would be good to hear more of them.

The book doesn't cover the more recent issue of child sexual abuse by clergy and others associated with the church. Perhaps the full extent of that evil has not been fully exposed yet. Much of what the author says about other evils could well be applied. Overall, The Evils that Men Do provides a way of thinking about the unthinkable, not justifying it, but not being overwhelmed by it either.

Rescued

When I was a child, I went to church with my parents and attended Sunday school every week. By the time I turned fourteen, there were no other kids my age in the church. The Sunday school supervisor decided that, since he was short of teachers, I could take on a class. So I found myself teaching a class of ten and eleven-year-olds.

It was daunting, but I enjoyed finding ways to bring the old familiar Bible stories to life. Then Easter came along, and I became aware that I really had no idea how Jesus dying on a cross had anything to do with me or the children I was teaching. 'Jesus died to save sinners'. It said so in the prayer book. I'd heard it every week. But what did it mean?

I was in my early twenties before I found the answer. While reading a Christian book, I discovered that Jesus willingly took on himself the sins of the whole world. On the cross, he paid the penalty for our rebellion and indifference to God. My sins were included. And because my sin had already been judged and the penalty paid by God himself, in Jesus, I could be at peace with him. I didn't have to earn my way to heaven (a task which I had already learned was impossible). That discovery became a precious moment. Not only did I have an answer, I also had a Saviour, a Rescuer.

Since then I have learned that the Bible gives many different answers to my question, 'What does "Jesus died for sinners" mean?' Jesus was the ransom, paid to set us free from our slavery to sin. Jesus took our sins to the grave and left them there when he was raised to life. Jesus, being sinless, overcame the power which death held over sinners. Satan threw everything he had at Jesus, and lost, so that he no longer has any claim over us.

Jesus became the new representative of humankind, replacing the old representative, Adam. Jesus was the sacrificial lamb, the true sacrifice which the Old Testament sacrifices had only mirrored. Jesus, by his supreme example of love for people and obedience to God, draws us to himself. Jesus conveys to us the lengths to which God would go to save us from the consequence of our rebellion towards him.

The Bible writers used these and other examples, drawn from human experience, to explain how Jesus' death could save sinners. They are all helpful and true. And yet in the end, salvation is still something which is beyond our full comprehension. It is too marvellous for words. All that we can do is accept it from God with wonder and gratitude.

Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

The grace

"May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all." (2 Corinthians 13:14)

I once attended a church where the minister would bow his head and intone "The grace of our Lord..." when anyone walked in late, as if the service was about to end. His congregation soon learned to turn up on time! Sometimes the words do seem barely more than a pious version of "See you later".

Yet surely Paul didn't mindlessly scribble the words down as a way of ending his letter to the church in Corinth. He wanted the Corinthians to understand that his apparent harshness with them in his previous letter was not meant to bolster his weak authority, but to build them up and make them more Christ-like. He was deeply hurt by their attitude towards him, and the way they were comparing him to the more charismatic "super apostles".

He made no apology for having disciplined them, but he longed for them to demonstrate that they loved him as he loved them, by living as he had taught them. Rather than concluding simply with "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you", as he did in many of his other letters, he added an even greater blessing, one which we can all use.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ: God doesn't offer us a life free from weakness and hardship, but grace to demonstrate His power in our lives. "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (1 Cor 12:9). It is the same grace which took Jesus through the weakness of death on the cross to the power of the resurrection and victory over sin.

The love of God: In his previous letter Paul had tried to convince the Corinthian Christians that no matter how important the gifts of the Spirit are to the life of the church, they are useless without love (1 Cor. 13). Now he prays that they will experience the source of that love, God himself.

The fellowship of the Holy Spirit: Twice in this letter, Paul refers to the Holy Spirit being given to us as a guarantee of our salvation and future resurrection (1 Cor 1:22, 5:5). To experience the fellowship of the Holy Spirit is to know the assurance of our place in God's kingdom. Our relationship to other Christians then becomes something more than just human fellowship. We are bound to each other by a bond stronger than common beliefs or even family relationship - the presence of the Holy Spirit within us.