You just can't help thinking sometimes...
08/03/2014
...that God better have a damn good reason for some of this stuff. Or at least I can't.
That reminds me: a week or so ago Daniel mentioned Ananias and Sapphira in a comment, suggesting that Peter was way out of line in calling down capital punishment from God on them for what was, admittedly, a sin. I said, stipulating that I was only speculating, that I wasn't "at all sure God disapproved of what happened to Ananias and Saphira." Similarly, Janet said "Do you think Peter killed them? I don't think that God lets people call down power like that on people if he doesn't want it."
I've wanted to get back to this, because I think there's an important point here. First, since I only vaguely remembered the story (Acts 5), I looked it up, and there's actually no indication that Peter in any way caused, or asked God for, their deaths (text courtesy of Blble Gateway):
But a man named Ananias, with the consent of his wife Sapphira, sold a piece of property; 2 with his wife’s knowledge, he kept back some of the proceeds, and brought only a part and laid it at the apostles’ feet. 3 “Ananias,” Peter asked, “why has Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit and to keep back part of the proceeds of the land? 4 While it remained unsold, did it not remain your own? And after it was sold, were not the proceeds at your disposal? How is it that you have contrived this deed in your heart? You did not lie to us but to God!” 5 Now when Ananias heard these words, he fell down and died. And great fear seized all who heard of it. 6 The young men came and wrapped up his body, then carried him out and buried him.
7 After an interval of about three hours his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. 8 Peter said to her, “Tell me whether you and your husband sold the land for such and such a price.” And she said, “Yes, that was the price.” 9 Then Peter said to her, “How is it that you have agreed together to put the Spirit of the Lord to the test? Look, the feet of those who have buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out.” 10 Immediately she fell down at his feet and died. When the young men came in they found her dead, so they carried her out and buried her beside her husband. 11 And great fear seized the whole church and all who heard of these things.
Yeah, I bet it did.
But all Peter does here is confront Ananias and then Sapphira with their sin. He doesn't say anything like "Therefore the Lord will strike you down," much less "I call upon the Lord to strike you down." He does seem to know it's going to happen, at least in the case of Sapphira, in words I find very chilling. But he doesn't ask for it or threaten it. I don't think it's taking the account too literally, then, to suppose that these deaths are truly a direct act of God.
Which makes the theological problem more acute. We can't just say Peter committed one of his typically impulsive mistakes. Either you have to say this didn't actually happen, which opens the entire New Testament to a degree of skepticism that has no obvious limit, or that God killed these two people. (Well, I guess you could say it's a really really really far-fetched coincidence.)
So, if it was a direct act of God, does that mean God is a harsh judge who may kill without warning or mercy if he chooses to do so? That he need not follow the counsel of forgiveness that he enjoins on us? Or, worse, that he is sovereign beyond justice and mercy, so that even if he condemned a man to hell for one small sin we would not be entitled to question or complain?
No. I think it means that his knowledge and justice and mercy are perfect. We can only speculate about Ananias and Sapphira. We have to remember that physical death is not the end, and we don't know what happened to them afterwards. We might be inclined to assume that they went to hell, but we really don't have any warrant for that. It may be that their being snatched abruptly from this life is precisely what enabled them to avoid hell. Or it may be that God saw that they were irrevocably set toward sin. We simply don't know, and can't know from where we sit now.
I don't think that God's justice and mercy are opposing things that are somehow perfectly balanced. I believe that they are ultimately the same thing, that his justice is in the end perfectly merciful, and his mercy in the end perfectly just. And, moreover, that his knowledge of the heart is perfect, so that he truly knows, in a way that would be impossible for us, exactly to what extent a person has freely chosen sin. He can penetrate the tangle of emotions and reason and will and genes and circumstances with a precision that is simply not possible, not even remotely possible, for us. There is no possibility that he can judge a person unfairly on the basis of insufficient knowledge.
And I trust his judgments. That's why the problem of hell has never really troubled my faith. Since I first encountered it many years ago I've always been completely convinced of the idea put forth by C.S. Lewis in The Great Divorce that ultimately anyone who is in hell has chosen it. This is not the same thing as simply resigning oneself and one's intellect to an inscrutable God who is entitled to make arbitrary judgments which are beyond good and evil and which we are not entitled to question. It's trust in his perfection, in the fact that he is God and everything which we know is good is perfected in him. Or, rather, that everything which we know is good is an imperfect apprehension of something in him.
None of this helps very much with stories like the one I began with, though. I can tell myself that it will all work out for the best, but I can't understand why that working-out requires pain such as that young woman's family is experiencing now.
Exactly.
I don't understand at all, but I know He does.
AMDG
Posted by: janet | 08/03/2014 at 09:44 PM
I can't honestly say "I know." I can say "I trust," or sometimes just "I try to believe."
Posted by: Mac | 08/03/2014 at 10:14 PM
All of my life, since I was old enough to understand, I have lived with the knowledge that I only exist because of the tragic death of my mother's first husband. The truth of this never fully hit me until about 15 years ago when I found a picture of my mother that was taken by her first husband, and on her face was a look of pure, transcendent joy. In all the years I have known my mother, and have seen her on so many joyful occasions, I have never seen her expression even approach what I saw in that picture, and when I looked at it, I realized that there was a light snuffed out in her the day her husband died that has never been rekindled--and my life, and that of my siblings, children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews was purchased at the cost of that joy. And yet, I can't be sorry that it happened.
I say this to emphasize that this has never been an academic question to to me. The knowledge that all the beauty and joy of my life is rooted in terrible sorrow is bred into me.
AMDG
Posted by: janet | 08/03/2014 at 10:28 PM
"I can tell myself that it will all work out for the best, but I can't understand why that working-out requires pain such as that young woman's family is experiencing now."
I don't see the working-out as requiring the pain, but instead assuming, absorbing and transforming it. There is obviously a sense in which God "allows" all things that come to pass, but I'm not convinced that He allows everything for a reason, in the sense that if these things didn't happen, His plan wouldn't be fulfilled. It seems to me that a lot of things happen that God doesn't "like" and doesn't actively will, things that are due to the fall, the current sinfulness of man, and the activity of the devil.
That God's plan has active opposition should be no surprise. But our trust, I think, is based on the fact that no amount of opposition, either human or demonic, will prevent the final victory. As D.B. Hart says, we're nowhere promised that every question will be answered, but that every tear will be wiped away.
Posted by: Rob G | 08/04/2014 at 07:41 AM
"I don't see the working-out as requiring the pain, but instead assuming, absorbing and transforming it."
I agree completely with the last part of this statement, but I'm just not sure about the first because our redemption so obviously, and for such an opaque reason, required His pain. And I really mean that I'm not sure.
What seems to me to be the most likely thing is that we cannot see pain for what it really is, and that someday we will, and then we will understand. I'm harping on an old theme here, but the Saints seem somehow to understand this.
AMDG
Posted by: janet | 08/04/2014 at 08:06 AM
I don't mean "require" in any absolute metaphysical or theological sense, only that the dreadful event is in fact there, and part of the fabric, and in that respect is, as far as we can see from here, a necessary part. I certainly don't mean that God is the direct author of terrible evils. But I don't see how, if God is omnipotent, he doesn't in some sense at least negatively will these things. I usually fall back on the existence of free will in creatures to deal with that.
There are things like that in my family history, too, Janet. Very daunting mysteries.
Posted by: Mac | 08/04/2014 at 08:12 AM
Yeah, I meant to say required because of sin in the world. In a sense, pain is the matter we give Him to work with, and He does.
Actually, Maclin, after I wrote that I was thinking, good grief I must have been very tired and emotionally drained to let myself post that as a blog comment. I was a bit embarrassed. It was a very good day, but very busy and VERY emotionally draining.
AMDG
Posted by: Janet | 08/04/2014 at 09:03 AM
You guys really should read Hart's little book on the tsunami The Doors of the Sea. Not that it answers all the questions, but I found it immensely satisfying. And comforting.
Posted by: Rob G | 08/04/2014 at 09:31 AM
I was slightly surprised, and I can remove it if you like. But it's a strong statement. btw I had not seen your 8:06 when I posted my 8:12.
Posted by: Mac | 08/04/2014 at 09:32 AM
This post and Janet’s earlier comment above reminded me of one of Janet's posts over at her Three Prayers blog -- Is Everything Sad Going to Come Untrue? -- which has stuck with me, especially this:
Wish I could find some comfort in that, but I really don't.
Posted by: Marianne | 08/04/2014 at 05:09 PM
I can't say it provides any immediate relief, as they might say in an advertisement for some kind of painkiller, but it does help. It gives me another way of thinking about the problem--another mental strategy for coping with it.
Posted by: Mac | 08/04/2014 at 07:01 PM
I think if I didn't think like that, I might not have survived the past year--or the past 12 hours.
AMDG
Posted by: Janet | 08/04/2014 at 07:15 PM
Yes, it does provide a mental strategy for coping with it. Or as Rob G said above about Hart's book on the tsunami, it's satisfying in that respect. Just wish it would translate into emotional comfort for me. I know, I want it all.
Posted by: Marianne | 08/04/2014 at 09:11 PM