The Problem of Evil?

I have spent some space here reflecting on what is often called the problem of evil. The problem of evil revolves around the following logic:

1. God is all loving.
2. God is all powerful.
3. If God is both all loving and all powerful, there would be no suffering in the world.
4. There is suffering in the world.
5. Thus God must not be all loving or all powerful.

This argument carries some force. It is among the reasons some Christians have ascribed to the idea of Open Theism, because if God is limited he cannot be held responsible. People of all religious stripes grapple with something that simple feels wrong in the world. Somehow we know things are not as they were created to be.

For many years I grappled with this question. It was an interview on Dr. James Dobson's Focus on the Family that began a change of perspective. I don't remember who it was Dr. Dobson was interviewing or why. I do remember that there was a conversation about the suffering this father experiences with the illness or death of his son. And Dobson asked how he dealt with the heavy weight of that grief , especially the question, "Why me? Why my son?" The interviewee didn't skip a beat. "Why not?"

You see, the problem of evil assumes another truth as well, that is that we somehow merit the good of our God. In part this man came to grips with his grief by remembering that we deserve nothing. All our life is a debt to the love of God for us. This great God we mocked, beat, stripped naked, and crucified. This great God who died at our hands.

For me the question easily becomes the problem of the good. How is that God would embrace us, those who crucified love?

I feel we have a better theological grip on things when we root ourselves in the stark reality of Creation, Fall, and Redemption. But further reading has pressed me even beyond this. I am asked to wonder if there isn't such a thing as redemptive suffering.

Redemptive suffering is something almost completely foreign to American Evangelicalism. Most of us still can't see beyond ourselves long enough to stop asking the question, "Why me?" The curious thing about redemptive is that it doesn't ask any questions. There is no problem of evil. There is no problem of good. Suffering is placed firmly within Providence.

And that word is something I struggle with. I am a Wesleyan theologian, a Free Methodist elder. We love to talk about holiness, the freedom to love him wholly. And that freedom hinges on our ability to choose either Life or Death, either the Christ or self. So we'll leave that word with the Father for now.

In any case, each moment is understood as gift, a place in time where we may discover the Spirit's movement and breathe in Life. In this sense, each moment becomes the same to us. Like Paul we become indifferent to either health or illness, freedom or incarceration because in all things we are rooted in Christ.

But it goes further still. All suffering is rooted in sin. Whether natural or otherwise, suffering comes into the world through sin. My sin. My sin, and yours, pollutes the earth, festers wars, rapes women, mutates cancers, topples buildings in Port-au-Prince. Were there no sin, there would be no suffering. Sin gives birth to suffering. My sin.

It might lead us to despair, except for Christ. Joined to Christ, our suffering becomes redemptive. If I suffer, I suffer because of sin, whether mine or someone else's. In either case, I can offer that suffering to God who suffers with us and whose suffering redeems.

I'm finding it difficult to articulate what I mean. When we embrace faith, we embrace the life of Christ in its fullness. We embrace the suffering of those around us. And more than that we embrace the suffering inflicted on us. Christ didn't run when the crowds shouted, "Crucify him!" He embraced that suffering and offered to our Father for the work of redemption. While our life, death, and resurrection saves no one, I have come to believe that when we suffer we may, like our Jesus, offer it to the Father for the work of redemption. Perhaps it is our redemption. Perhaps when we offer up our suffering we do it for ourselves. Perhaps, though, we might offer it God that others will not suffer, that because we suffer others will not.

And so I find myself evolving again beyond the problem of good to offering my suffering to God for the work of redemption within the world.

Freedom of Simplicity

I just finished reading Freedom of Simplicity by Richard Foster and want to recommend it everyone.

It has special resonance for those of us within the Free Methodist tradition. A holiness folk, we're married to this idea of pure, unhindered love for our Jesus. And this is how Foster really defines simplicity, a heart ruled by a single love. It is freedom from those things that keep our hearts from embracing our Abba and our neighbor. Sometimes I think we don't to be associated with those plain people that came before us. They appear drab and colorless, especially in black and white photos! But perhaps they possessed more joy and Gospel integrity than we might have imagined. Perhaps their deliberate choice to eschew choice fashion and consumerism freed them from themselves.

The book challenged me, and I think it will challenge anyone who reads it. But it simply isn't about me, myself, and I. Foster explores how the corporate practice of simplicity enhances our care of one another, cultivates generosity among the people of God, and extends all the way to creation care.

Please don't take this as a righteous rant. It isn't. It's simply a very brief statement on a surprisingly great book on the holy life. If you are interested in the pursuit of the holy life in an affluent American culture, this is a book to read.

Leading from the Heart

This isn't mine, but I wanted to share it. It comes from the desk of Laurie Haller, a district superintendent in the West Michigan Conference of the United Methodist Church:

Dear Friends,

• Jane insisted that the pastor visit her mother (not a member) in Hospice care every few days, even late into a Saturday night when the pastor’s sermon wasn’t yet done. Jane was extremely picky about the memorial service, and when it was all over, there was not one word of appreciation, not one expression of gratitude for the pastor’s ministry.
• A visitor began attending the church, and it soon become clear that Jim had extreme emotional and physical needs. His demands for attention bordered on abuse, sucking all the energy out of those providing pastoral care. Realizing that they were being used, the pastor and lay caregivers finally began to say “no.”
• Andrew was an early riser and was accustomed to calling the pastor at 6:30 a.m. to chat. It wasn’t until the pastor’s wife began sleeping in another room that the pastor put a stop to the calls.
• A family left the church after Jacob did not come to the hospital on his day off to be with them after a car accident seriously injured their teenage son.

Like most pastors, I learned the hard way that no one but me can control my life. Placing appropriate boundaries around our ministry and not over-functioning or under-functioning is one of the most challenging tasks as a pastor. This past summer a therapist I highly respect said to me, “Laurie, if there is any book a new pastor should read, it’s Boundaries: When to Say Yes, When to Say No, to Take Control of Your Life by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. It will set the stage for their ministry and give them the tools to stay healthy.”

What are Boundaries?

A boundary is a limit – it defines who I am and who I am not. Healthy human beings, including pastors, have good boundaries. They know that taking care of their own life and needs is not only their responsibility, it is also good stewardship.

Unfortunately, many Christians often confuse servanthood and discipleship with not setting limits. The result is that we respond to any and all requests, give up control over our own schedule, and are run ragged. Eventually, we become sick or burned-out and are forced to rest.

On the other hand, boundaries are not rigid walls that keep people away from us. For a pastor to refuse to respond to a critical situation simply because we’ve already put in our hours for the week can also greatly damage our ministry. Boundaries are more like fences with gates in them. Gates enable us to be flexible, to choose healthy interactions as well as keep out those who seek to control our lives. In addition, gates empower us to always stay in relationship with others whether we say “yes” or “no.”

What do the scriptures say about boundaries?

It would be easy to live without boundaries if we focused simply on Jesus’ commands to give ourselves away, go the second mile, lose our life in order to save it, and practice servanthood. If we dig deeper, we find lots of wisdom for when to say “yes,” when to say “no,” and for taking care of self by setting limits.

• Galatians 6:2-5 asks us to bear one another’s burdens. “Burdens” refers to excess pressures or suffering. Yes, we need to care for others in times of crisis. However, a few verses later, we are told that each person must carry their own load, “load” referring to everyday tasks. It is not healthy for us or others when we attempt to be responsible for every aspect of their lives.
• Matthew 5:37 and James 5:12 emphasize that we need to let our “yes” be “yes” and our “no” be “no.” “Yes” is sometimes appropriate, but so is “no.” Having the wisdom to know the difference is a mark of maturity.
• In Mark 6:31 Jesus and the disciples leave the desperate needs of the people and go away by themselves to relax, rest and be renewed. Even Jesus placed boundaries around his ministry.

• Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 9:7 that we should give freely and not reluctantly or out of compulsion. It is not appropriate to force others to do things they don’t want to do. Nor should we feel pressured to say “yes” when to do so would not be healthy.

• Galatians 6:7-8 says that we reap what we sow. As human beings, we are called to take responsibility for our own attitudes, resources, talents and actions. Just as we can’t tell others what to do, nor should we blame others for our poor decisions.

The 4 types of boundary problems

• The person who can’t say “no” because of guilt, fear of rejection, or a disconnection from one’s own desires and needs
• The person who can’t say “yes” because of extreme narcissism or boundaries that are too rigid
• The person who guilt trips and controls others into saying “yes” or “no”
• The person who needs help but avoids asking for it for fear of bothering others

Boundaries Problems in Churches

Healthy churches have boundaries. Because churches can’t do everything, their vision and mission statements and strategic plan must define their limits. Unfortunately, many churches haven’t yet figured out how to say “yes” to good decision-making and “no” to individual and collective bad behavior.

• Churches live beyond their means. They overbuild and cannot pay their mortgage or run a deficit and decide that ministry shares are expendable. They do not act responsibly, then expect that the conference or someone else to bail them out.
• Lay Leadership Committees do not prayerfully recommend emotionally, mentally, and spiritually healthy people for positions of leadership, thus setting churches up for conflict.
• Churches that see boundaries as walls rather than gates refuse to change and then wonder why they are not growing.
• Churches expend all of their time developing programs to serve themselves, then wonder why there is no energy left to reach out in mission to the community.
• Churches neglect to practice good communication skills and allow certain people to cross boundaries and hold the church hostage by their dysfunctional behavior.
• Churches become experts at guilt-tripping others into filling empty slots. Arm twisting does not ultimately work because people are resentful even as they serve reluctantly.

The heart of Advent is contained in the prophet Isaiah’s plea in chapter 64:1, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” The course of our world changed when God decided that the boundary separating God and humans needed to be transformed from a wall to a gate. Jesus even referred to himself as a gate in John 10:9, “I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” In Jesus we not only experience the essence of God’s character and claim the promise of salvation, but we are also empowered to take control of our own life after the example of Christ.

There may be no more important time than Advent think about boundaries as we to attempt to set appropriate limits around our gift-giving and Christmas celebrations. Here are a few simple suggestions:

1. Realize that you are not responsible “for” others but “to” others.
2. Understand your motivations. Take time to think and consult before saying “yes” or “no.”
3. Since Christmas is a family time, look at your own family history and how you developed certain patterns of behavior and decision-making.
4. Stay connected with others, especially if you have to say “no.” Keep the gate open!
5. Reread Boundaries or put it on your Christmas list: it will provide the foundation for a healthy life in 2010.

Blessings,

Laurie

When Love Wins

Recently I had a brief conversation with a colleague about the existence of hell. While not a universalist, he argued that in the end, "Love wins." All will be saved. I'd heard that phrase before. My wife told me a story about a Free Methodist youth conference. Apparently the lead speaker was asked to leave after arguing that, "Love trumps karma." In the end all are saved.

Out blowing leaves today, I thought about these two phrases: Love wins. And Love trumps karma. I cannot see a way for anyone to confess these apart from willing disbelief of Scripture. There are fine points of Christian theology that might be argued even among the orthodox. There are mysteries we will never unravel. But there are aspects of faith which Scripture addresses plainly and repeatedly. Judgment is among them. You cannot read the words of Christ without reading parable after parable speaking to the danger of being caught up into the judgment of God.

But let's set Scripture aside, pretending it doesn't exist. The "Love wins" argument presupposes something about the nature of love itself, that is that love disallows either judgment and/or eternal punishment. God cannot be love and condemn someone to an eternity of fiery condemnation. Can he?

I believe yes. Hell is itself the act of a loving God. It must be or God cannot be love. And it is loving in two ways.

First, it allows me to choose something other than God. Forcing the love of God upon us amounts to nothing else than cosmic rape. It would be God's demand, "You will love me. You will worship me. You will be in relationship to me." Hell allows me other loves. I can choose to love self, material things, sexual pleasure, whatever. I can love what is not God. But in doing so I have disconnected myself from Life, who is also God. Death, physical and spiritual, is the result. I cannot embitter myself against God for allowing me to die when I spent my life choosing death.

Secondly, love without truth is a lie. A god who refuses to exercise justice in the name of "love" isn't deserving of worship, care, or attention. Even in our brokenness we understand a need for the work of justice. We understand that when someone inflicts hurt or pain or even death on another, it is a betrayal of love and must be addressed. The first Free Methodists were driven out of the Methodist Episcopal Church in part for recognizing their responsibility to address social injustice perpetuated by the leadership of the church against the poor and enslaved. Refusing to act would have been an act of betrayal against the love they themselves received. Love demanded they act.

And so divine love demands God act. I think we sometimes struggle with the idea of God judging us because we think so little of our sin. How can our little fibs or failures condemn us to an eternity of judgment? What we must remember is that sin is a rebellion against holy love that resulted in the crucifixion of God here. My sin crucified the Holy One. My sin perpetuates injustice in the world. My sin hurts others. My sin may even drive others away from God. There is a real cost to sin in the world. Whether I believe in eternal suffering or simply the death of the soul into nonexistence, justice demands something of me.

This isn't to paint a picture of a scary God at all, but one who loves us, because he provided a way for us who is Christ.

All Saints Sunday

Today at First we celebrated All Saints Sunday. Not often celebrated in less sacramental circles, All Saints celebrates the great cloud of witnesses who have passed into glory and been the light of Christ for us. It is a special time in the church calendar year to remember those whose lives left an eternal difference on our own.

This particular All Saints Rev. Dean asked us to write down the names of those of our loved ones who have passed. Later we listened as he read each and every one. Some of them were children or youth. Others only gave up their life in old age. Some were close friends, others a beloved spouse, parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles. Listening I couldn't help but realize how close all of us live near death.

I have yet to experience the death of someone very close to me. My grandparents died when I was young. My parents are still healthy, and all my siblings young. My friends have seemed to survive life to this point. That said, I have known people who have died. Corrine Edstrom. Donna Verhey. Stephen Peter. Joan Mumah. Bill and Shirley Scott. OJ Bongard. And this is only a small fraction. Some I knew only marginally. Some I knew more closely. And each of them have come to this life's end.

Listening to the litany of names, including Pastor Dean's brother, I wondered why we don't talk about death more often. Is it a hard thing? Certainly. I do not know many who want to think about, much less talk about, dying. It frightens us. We fear losing those we love; we fear what may or may not await us; we fear the pain of dying. As I thought about it, the only messages I can remember surrounding death within the church was an awful evangelistic event I attended when I must have been around 15. I can't remember the title of the drama, but it basically told the story of several teenagers who died after partying. Throughout the play, they'd each had the chance to receive Christ. Only one prayed to do so, and (s)he went to the heaven. The remainder were thrown into hell.

Unfortunately, I think that's generally the only narrative we hear in most churches. Death is about judgment, so you better have your life in order.

But what if there's something more than that? What if death could be something beautiful? I have sat at the bedside of several brothers and sisters nearing death and experienced something I can only call holy. While grieving the temporary loss of their loved one's, it was almost as if they were simply falling asleep here to wake up in the presence of their Jesus.

I remember when TLC ran a show called The Monastery. Wonderful show. At one point a group of men go out to meet with a solitary -hermit- who lives nearby. And when they come, they ask him why he came there. His reply was both brief and insightful, "I came to die." I think we have a problem with death, because we spend so much of our life hanging on to things, to people, to circumstance. We cling to them because we feel as if they are our life. But what if we spent our lives learning to die? We would cling only to Jesus, to his cross. We would no longer love things, people, or circumstance for ourselves, but for him who entrusted us with these things, people, and circumstance. And when our end came, I think we'd grieve the loss of those we love, but remember the One who holds us holds them as well.

I don't want to spend my life fearing death. I want to spend my life in love of him who suffered death that I would know life.

Risking It All

Saturday I attended a training event put together by the Heartland District of the West Michigan Conference in Cadillac. Dr. Mark Beeson from Granger United Methodist in Indiana spoke about a variety of leadership dynamics and church growth, but one thing stood out more than anything else.

He asked us if we were willing to risk it all, even our ministry.

We worship a lot of things in this life. We make idols out of prestige, titles, security, even our ministry. The question Beeson asks us is if we are following the dangerous Jesus who turns our world upside down or the stable career path that will result in a comfortable retirement. Am I willing to risk losing my position at the Wesley Foundation (Please insert your name and title here) in pursuit of the love of my Jesus, or has my job become an excuse I use to do as I want. What might I do were I willing to risk even my ministry for the Kingdom's sake.

Holy Dying

Tonight I was invited to sit and wait with a Christian brother nearing death. I have known him only a little above a year and sat with him only a handful of times. But he loves our Jesus. Not in the Sunday school, everybody loves Jesus kind of way. In the depths of his soul he knows and loves his master-friend. I was honored to sit and pray with him.

Driving home, I kept trying to identify what I felt there. Certainly a sense of the holy, but something else as well. Thankfulness. Thanks for his faithfulness

Stephen, may you find perfect rest in the arms of our Father. Amen.