Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Theodicy and Saving Private Ryan

Believers have struggled with the centuries-long problem of theodicy--the question of how to harmonize the simulaneous existence of a benevolent, sovereign God and gratuitious evil, pain and suffering. Since 9/11, this question has tragically forced its way to the forefront of conversations once again. And, in typical fashion, a variety of competing responses have emerged.

I just read Gordon Dalbey's newsletter that takes a refreshing look at this question. He begins by appropriately challenging the assumption behind this question: "Why do bad things happen to good people?" The following are a few excerpts from Gordon's thoughtful analysis.

Some years ago, a best-selling book titled Why Bad Things Happen to Good People attempted lamely to explain why a good, all-powerful God allows suffering. Its popularity was based on a cherished but false assumption about human nature--one that in fact underlies the political debate over the upcoming election. The book’s title begs the old joke in which a city slicker gets lost on his way to town and asks a farmer for directions. “You can’t get there from here,” the farmer shrugs.
From a Christian perspective, that is, there simply are no good people.
“Good teacher,” a rich man asked Jesus, “what must I do to receive eternal life?” (Mark 10:18ff)
“Why do you call me good?” Jesus replied. “No one is good except God alone.”
Jesus’ self-deprecation here is startling, but we soon see why He’s quick to make such a radical distinction. When He instructs the man to keep the basic biblical Law, the man declares, “Ever since I was young, I have obeyed all these commandments.”
Jesus knows that someone so convinced that he’s good needs to be jarred into humility before he can be saved. Otherwise, he thinks he doesn’t need God. And so Jesus instructs the rich man to give away his riches to the poor. Here, at last, is a commandment he cannot obey, and he’s broken. “At this, the man’s face fell, and he went away sad.”
“There is no difference at all,” the Apostle Paul echoes; “everyone has sinned and is far away from God’s saving presence” (Rom. 3:22-23).


Why do bad things happen to good people (like me)? is therefore a self-satisfied civilian question. Only those who fancy themselves to be good would bother to ask it. It’s the narcissistic pouting of pampered flesh not yet surrendered to be crucified with the King of Kings (Rom. 12:1-2). Worse, it’s a cover-up for the powers of evil that war against God’s purposes—not just “out there” in others, but in our own hearts.
The warrior, on the other hand, sees life differently, because he experiences it within the larger reality of evil and death.
The wrenching WWII film Saving Private Ryan portrays this contrast graphically. Amid indiscriminate bloodshed and carnage, Private Ryan is indeed rescued by a platoon, most of whom die in the effort. Fifty years later we see him pudgy and gray, kneeling in a military cemetery as thousands of white crosses surround him in severe witness. No hero here, just a tormented survivor--humbled, but not humiliated; lost in the mystery, but found at last by its Author. One who has faced the awful reality of evil and death not only on the world’s battlefield, but also in his own unworthy heart.
“Why me?” he whimpers.
Here, at last, are the makings of a Kingdom warrior. One who’s been saved not by any virtue of his own, but by the sacrificial grace of another. He’s not demanding to know, Why did I suffer? He’s begging to know, Why was I spared? He seeks mercy, not vindication. He’s overwhelmed—and properly so--by the mystery of grace: Why do I still live, and even prosper, when so many braver men more worthy than me lie dead, even for saving me?”


The truth is, that from our genesis, we were indeed created good. But through the draw of evil we lost our innocence, and sin entered and infected our human nature unto death.
The grace is, that Jesus has come to bear the shame of our otherwise unbearable not-good-ness, and thereby restore our innocence. You can fall on your knees, cry out your unworthiness to Jesus, let His Spirit restore you daily to your created good-ness as God’s child—and thereby, become free at last to get on with your destiny, both now and forever
That’s why good things happen to bad people (like us): Because the Father whose love endures forever (Ps. 118:2) has a plan for our lives and the power to accomplish it (Ephes. 2:8-10). He wants us to come to Him so He can do that. As a Father, He won’t abide our being seduced away from His truth by universalistic tolerance, or blinded to His grace by religious judgment.
In this season, let’s not surrender to the world’s charade of “judgment vs. tolerance,” where truth and grace are portrayed as enemies. Instead, let’s get real and surrender to Jesus.
Let’s go to the Father. You can get there from here.


Yes. Before the blood-caked cross of Jesus, we are moved to ask "Why me?" This question has nothing to do with our suffering, but His. Why did you do that for one as unworthy as I? The answer? "My inexpressible love for you compelled me--for you are my child." Somehow, Calvary mysteriously answers the question of theodicy. While we may never be able to satisfactorally articulate the cross's nuanced response to theodicy, the shouts of unfairness, when brought into the shadow of the cross, morphs into a stunned whisper of gratitude for grace.


6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey broham,

Good distinction and a great point. But I still don't think the line of argumentation that comprises my theodicy is lame. The question, "why do bad things happen to good people" is indeed lame; but the answer typically has more to do with the nature of God and the nature of humanity. As such, I think it is still sound.

Thanks for the conversation!

Brad

Garry Brantley said...

You make a good point, broham. I just liked Gordon's take on Saving Private Ryan. I think the problem with most folk when it comes to theodicy is that their perspectives are not informed by the cross.

Good to hear from you.

Anonymous said...

On that we certainly agree! It is an insightful piece with a great point.

And, as one professor at CTS said, "It's not that I'm O.K and you're OK, it's that I'm an @$$ H*&% and you're an @$$ H*&%!" So we really can't justify our whining! I like the comment Arthur Ash made when he was asked how he felt about having cancer. He said, "why NOT me?" He didn't think he rated above any other cancer victim. None of us does.

Brad

Garry Brantley said...

Amen, bro.

Garry Brantley said...

Blake, thoughtful comments. Thanks. In fact, the points you raise about spiritual conflict is what makes Gregory Boyd's work on warfare theodicy so relevant to this discussion. In war, "collateral damage" occurs, especially from a foe that puts no value on human life. Satan prowls around seeking to devour all in his prideful path. God engaged and overcame him through the cross. Now, we are called to take of our cross as well. Therefore, we should expect suffering in this cosmic conflict...and glory to follow. I look forward to seeing you as well, bro.

Garry Brantley said...

Blake, thoughtful comments. Thanks. In fact, the points you raise about spiritual conflict is what makes Gregory Boyd's work on warfare theodicy so relevant to this discussion. In war, "collateral damage" occurs, especially from a foe that puts no value on human life. Satan prowls around seeking to devour all in his prideful path. God engaged and overcame him through the cross. Now, we are called to take of our cross as well. Therefore, we should expect suffering in this cosmic conflict...and glory to follow. I look forward to seeing you as well, bro.