The Good, the Bad, and the Almighty

In our past post, we asked the probing question: Is God responsible for all circumstances in our lives, including the bad things? Many would say no, mainly because it seems to suggest God Himself is not that good of a guy. We wish to protect Him from such a charge, if not in the public arena, then at least in our own minds. We wish to keep Him limited to the good things.

Some may even quote scripture to back this claim. For example, it is Jesus that said, “The thief (devil) has come to steal and kill and destroy, but I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.” This certainly speaks to God’s intention for humanity, and also the devil’s. But many take it to mean it speaks to His sovereignty, also. That is, when bad things happen, God is not responsible at all. That is, He had no say or part in it coming to pass. Such a view of God, though it may seem good, is very small. It makes Him out to be not so much supreme over all of creation, but instead powerless over a great part of creation.

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Thanking God for the Bad

right-way-wrong-way1Author and Speaker Merlin Carothers tells of a woman who asked for prayer concerning her daughter. Her daughter was not “following the Lord,” as church people say; in fact she was an exotic dancer at a strip club.  Before joining the mother in prayer, Carothers encouraged the her to thank God for her daughter’s current lifestyle. But the woman immediately recoiled at the thought. She insisted that it was not proper to thank God for the devil’s work.

Carothers has devoted his life to one central message: Praise God for all things. But like the woman in this story, many of us may find it difficult obeying such a message. Of course the act itself is not difficult, but as Carothers notes, doing so sincerely will be difficult if we are not convinced of a deeper truth; namely: That God is responsible for all circumstances in our lives, not just the good stuff, but also the bad stuff, also, and that He is using all of it for our good.

The difficulty for many will be that one phrase, “but also the bad stuff.” But if it is true that God is using even the bad things in our lives for our good, and He is in some way responsible for it, this has profound theological implications.

And if Carothers is correct, it also means the difference between seeing personal breakthrough and missing out, on being in full cooperation with God’s plans, and falling short in lack of faith.

So this is the question I wish to explore over the next few posts: Is God, or is He not, responsible for all circumstances in our lives, including the bad things? I look forward to your responses.

God is not in It

The Christian life — and by this I mean the true one, not the outward one where time is spent engaged in church activity — consists of a connection with the Spirit. This connection can ebb and flow, and when it ebbs, the goal is to draw close again. My goal is to be in constant contact with Jesus. That is the whole point of the Christian life.

I pause here because it is easy to nod and say “Yes” to such a statement but walk away with an entirely different understanding of what it means to be in contact with Jesus. It is easy to think of following Jesus in a metaphorical sense alone. As if to follow Him means to do what we think He would want us to do, or what we think He would do Himself, or even do what others who speak for God say we should do. And we call that “following Jesus.”

But such efforts will only drive us to utter boredom, emptiness, and most likely, a good deal of anxiety. This is because we weren’t designed to have a metaphorical relationship with Jesus; we were designed to have an actual relationship with Jesus, through the presence and Person of the Holy Spirit.

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To Know All Things are Possible

With God, all things are possible. What profoundly great news.

It may seem to be so, but I suspect for many believers it is secretly not such good news. On the contrary, it is a source of anxiety. The truth is so exceedingly great that they miss out on its possibility, profundity and majesty; they hear instead only one more thing that they are responsible for, and they secretly wish they were not. They almost wish, in fact, though it sounds bad to say, the truth weren’t so great. They secretly wish that with God, only some things were possible. That way, there would be less to think about.

But imagine such a world. Imagine that with God, all things were not possible. God was not capable, or perhaps He simply had decreed that we were beyond His assistance, imprisoned within our lives, victims destined to take whatever came our way, no exceptions.

Regrettably, such a world is what some not only secretly wish for but believe in. They believe all miracles ceased with the early church, but believe Jesus will come again one day with power and glory. They have made God powerful in the past and in the future, but not in the present.  In the meantime, God is only capable of some things. He can comfort us in our physical suffering, but He cannot relieve it. He can provide us the means to provide food on the table that we thank Him for, but He cannot miraculously multiply fish and loaves. He is, apparently, no longer in the miracle business. He is on break.

It is an odd thing, really: To believe in a God who is all-powerful but not capable to do much of anything in the present, where we exist. He is powerful everywhere except for right in the middle of our lives. I would like to suggest the God we serve is not this god. He is much closer.

It is in fact a miracle that has brought us to faith in Jesus Christ in the first place. Just think how improbable it is to believe that a man who lived two thousand years ago is God. What could possibly persuade us? Would the credibility of those we know who claimed it is true? Would the compelling historical evidence? Would intellectual arguments? Or merely our upbringing?

All of these things may contribute to our spiritual journey, but coming to genuine faith in Jesus Christ — not just being persuaded intellectually or finding it convenient socially, but coming to experience One we have come to love, to Whom, according to Scripture, our spirits cry out “Abba, Father” —is nothing short of a supernatural event. If we have come to believe in God through a miracle, why would we deny any others? To believe in the miraculous is simply to continue in what we have come to already believe.

It is of course conceivable that our belief in God involves no supernatural element whatsoever. Though this is possible, it certainly does not reflect core Christian belief. “You, however, are controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ.” For these words to be intelligible at all requires a supernatural element. It is possible therefore that churches who call themselves Christian deny any supernatural component, but this would not be true Christianity. True Christianity is supernatural. It claims we have met Someone. Whether that Someone is capable of all things or not much of anything is the only question that remains.

It is the up close and personal nature of Jesus Christ that is difficult for us to come to terms with. He demands change, and we fear the change required is equal to His ability to do so, and it is this fear that wishes to make Him smaller. For the skeptic, we do so by making him a mere man, or a myth. For the believer, we can do so by making him less powerful, or more distant. The goal is the same: To unconsciously preserve our way of life.

But his infinite power is the very thing we need. It may bring about great change, but take heart: He has overcome the world.

Finely-Tuned Arguments

Finely TunedIn my first year of college, where students join the real world of ideas, I was greeted with what seemed to be a unanimous consensus that God was dead, a mere human invention, and that faith was irrational. It appeared to be more than a just strong case; on the contrary, I got the impression from its proponents that God had been so undeniably proven to be false that it was beyond dispute, and I was very late to the party. I wondered whether my faith was in fact a lie.

But as I examined the arguments against God, I did not find what I expected. Instead of undeniable facts, I found arguments whose main force was found in their underlying assumptions: Assumptions which largely determined the conclusion. What’s more, it seemed for most people who held them, those assumptions went unchallenged.

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