For more thoughts on the same subject, see my friend and colleague Kurt’s sermon based on the same texts, and our Bishop’s recent reflections.
This Sunday’s lessons drop us right into the middle of one of the biggest and stickiest questions for people of faith. Why do bad things happen to good people? For that matter, why do bad things happen to ordinary people, neither particularly good nor particularly bad?
Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, thinks he has it figured out. Bad things happened to the Israelites because they worshiped false gods – indulged in immoral behaviors – and complained when things weren’t going well. And if we act the same way, we should expect the same outcome – sudden and violent death.
Jesus, speaking in Luke’s Gospel, complicates this a bit. Those Galileans murdered by Pilate’s men? They weren’t worse sinners than any other average Galilean. And those people crushed when that tower fell – remember that? – they weren’t worse sinners than anybody else living in Jerusalem in these days. The victims of sudden and violent death aren’t especially evil or sinful. They are likely to be just like everybody else.
But then, what explanation can we find? Why do bad things happen to ordinary people? Why do bad things happen at all? And how can we believe in a good and loving God, when the world is so full of suffering?
The bad news is, there’s no tidy answer. The good news is that struggling with this question can lead us deeper into faith, and give us a clearer vision of God’s nature – and God’s love.
Helen Oppenheimer, an Anglican theological writer, tackles the problem of suffering boldly in her book Helping Children Find God (Morehouse Publishing, 1995) – which is really about helping adults work through their doubts and theological struggles, so they can feel more confident talking about faith.
She begins by setting out the problem: “If there is a God who is maker of heaven and earth, God is responsible for everything in heaven and earth: for earthquakes and viruses and human weakness, as well as for flowers and sunsets and human love.”
Why does God let the bad stuff happen? Why is Concepcion, Chile, in ruins? Why are there mass graves outside Port-au-Prince, Haiti? Why… ? You fill in the blank.
A big part of the problem here – Oppenheimer says, and I agree – is the concept of Providence. That’s an old-fashioned word – something from 19th century pious literature. But if the word is fading from our vocabulary, the mindset of providence is very much alive. Simply put, Providence is the notion that the way things are is the way God intends them to be. If you are wealthy or poor, healthy or ill, if you suffer tragedies or live an untroubled live – it’s all in God’s plan.
It’s hard to question this belief in Providence. It can be surprisingly ingrained in us, even those who don’t believe we think this way at all. And many people take great comfort in their belief that God controls and directs every moment of their lives.
It’s easy to believe in Divine Providence your life is going well, because look how good and gracious God is to you! The shadow side of that belief is the idea that others who live harder lives must please God less. As Oppenheimer puts it, “Gratitude [for our own blessings] slips easily into smugness.” (48) Our examples of Providence at work can be thoughtless and downright cruel, when other believers live with the sorrowful knowledge that their heartfelt prayers seem unanswered. (49) I give thanks for the blessing of carrying and birthing two healthy children. But I can say with great certainty that I did not obtain this outcome by praying harder, or being a better person, than friends who have faced prolonged infertility, pregnancy loss, and children with chronic illnesses.
It’s also tempting to believe in Divine Providence when things go wrong. Because we’re desperate for meaning in the face of crisis. But here belief in Providence can become deeply damaging. The natural question is, “Why is God doing this to me?” That question has no good answer – no healthy answer. It can lead to guilt – “I must have done something terrible.” It can lead to rage at a God who must after all be cruel or arbitrary. It can lead to loss of faith.
Yet the reason that question has no good answer is because it’s the wrong question – founded on a fundamental misconception about God.
Living a good life does not mean everything will go well for us. God does not reward piety with a happy, healthy, uncomplicated life. Oppenheimer says, “The world is not run for the benefit of the devout.” (49) The Bible never said it would be. Jesus never said it would be. They never promised us a rose garden. Where did we get this idea? …
Perhaps we arrive at this notion because we’re trying to honor God – we feel it would be unfaithful to suggest that God is not in charge of every little thing. But it’s not a question of God’s power; it’s a question of God’s character.
We believe, rightly, that love is fundamental to God’s nature – but God loves us too much to control our lives. God, in the act of creation, did not want Barbie dolls in a dream home. God wanted free creatures, capable of thinking and feeling, choosing and acting; and a free world, with its own patterns and powers, beautiful and sometimes terrible. God’s love was so great that God created us free, in a free world – even though that means that God’s great purposes are constantly being challenged by human actions and human choices. In Oppenheimer’s words, ours is “a God who gives creatures space to be themselves, even to the point of taking risks that things may go wrong.” (58)
We recognize God’s hand at work, now and then – certain events glow with holiness so that we say with conviction and joy, “This is God’s doing!” We must also have the courage to say sometimes, “This is not God’s doing.” Plenty of things happen that God does not will. When we let go of that conviction that everything happens for a reason, we have a much better chance of discovering the reality of God’s help and God’s grace.
Bad things – terrible things – happen. The 1979 edition of the Book of Common Prayer, full of the hubris of modern medicine, expunged funeral rites for children, which had been in previous books. In the decades since, people have realized that in spite of the best modern medicine can do, children still die. Funeral materials for children have been re-issued in a separate volume. People are killed in car accidents – struck down by cancer in their prime. Crushed in their homes in an earthquake. How cruel to let anyone believe that God intends these deaths.
Yet the Bible – and Jesus himself – do encourage us to trust God. Fear not! say the angels, the prophets, the saints. God longs to bless us, we are told, again and again – God’s will for us is good. If we’re not trusting God to keep us safe and make our lives roll easy, what are we trusting God to do? If God doesn’t control everything, then how does God act in the world?
Oppenheimer writes, “A responsible Christian faith takes seriously the likelihood that the course of events is often contrary to God’s will… What Christians believe is that God knows the dangers even better than we do, and will always be one step ahead. The Christian hope is that the God who raised Jesus from the dead is able eventually to bring whatever happens to good.” (63)
Our hope as Christians is not in providence, but in grace. Grace is not a vague, watered-down version of Providence, but a true and solid foundation for faith. Grace can be a difficult concept to unpack – as Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart once famously said about obscenity, “I know it when I see it.” We know that our Sacraments are “means of grace” – but that simply means that they are ways that God makes Godself available. Likewise, in prayer, we make ourselves available to grace – to work within us, and through us.
Grace isn’t found only in church – it’s the whole fabric of God’s relationship with humanity. Grace is simply God, present with us, loving us, and always, always working evil into good – sometimes with big flashy works of power that seize our attention, but more often subtly, gently – urging, guiding, comforting, strengthening, speaking softly in our hearts. In John Donne’s phrase, God’s grace knocks, breathes, shines, and seeks to mend. The tragedy isn’t God’s doing – but when we realize, in time, that moving through the tragedy has made us wiser, or stronger, or kinder, or more appreciative of our blessings, that’s God’s grace at work.
Grace can be elusive. Catching God at work in the world can be a matter of corner-of-the-eye glimpses. There are good reasons for God’s grace to be unobtrusive – God made us free and honors our freedom; God does not wish to orchestrate the world. One of the best things we can do for each other, in a community of faith, is share our stories of when we’ve glimpsed God’s grace – hearing others’ stories can heighten our senses, fine-tuning our ability to perceive grace at work in our own lives – and to respond to it.
For grace demands response, where Providence invites passivity. Instead of butting up against God’s prefabricated plan, as people of grace we may discover that God’s purposes can also become our purposes – that God calls us to join God in working evil into good. We are honored with the responsibility of being God’s agents.
Trusting in God’s grace, we can face crises in the world without a crisis of faith. Knowing that however much we grieve, God grieves more – knowing that however much we yearn to help, God yearns more. No evil, no tragedy can alter God’s will to do good, and we are invited, always, to be healed, and to join the grace-filled work of healing others.
Miranda K. Hassett
March, 2010
Nice sermon…like what you said.
Thanks for the link to my thoughts as well!