(N.B. What follows is a sort of questioning-pondering, not intended as anything conclusive or static, just an issue I've been working on...so there are probably several problems in it.)
Rev 21:6-8 “He said to me: ‘It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost form the spring of the water of life. He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be My son. But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.’”
One mystery in particular has occupied my theological curiosity for many years. It’s one I doubt I’ll ever understand (it took me a long while to accept Deuteronomy 29:29, that “the secret things belong to the Lord,” but I finally grew content with the fact that there is much I will never know, at least this side of Heaven); it’s one that perhaps no theologian has ever fully understood, even though many have tackled the issue. But I tackle it nonetheless, not—I hope—in arrogance, but with the avid curiosity God placed within me. I have never seriously doubted God’s existence—in truth, I’ve never been allowed to: more easily indeed could I doubt my own existence—and for quite a few years now I haven’t doubted God’s love and perfect goodness. The confusion and questions comes in at the question of evil.
How could a good, loving, and sovereign Creator allow evil and suffering within His Creation? If God were not absolutely sovereign, or were not Love Itself, there would be little problem; but there is little recourse to talking about our (or Lucifer’s) “free will.” After all, God created our wills, and they have only as much freedom as He allows. None are absolutely free; all are constrained by what He permits. How could He have created a will that chose “Evil”? For how could Evil have existed in an Existence created exclusively by Him, and maintained solely by His sovereign pleasure? Granted, Evil may be simply (if, perhaps, incompletely) described as “a diversion from God’s will”…but how, with a God able to control everything, who is the ultimate origin of everything, is that even possible? Furthermore, ignoring the theoretical possibility of Evil, how could a good and loving God allow His own creatures to stumble into it?
I’ve never read Lewis’ “The Problem of Pain,” although I’ve read a shorter essay by him about the topic…perhaps if I read the full book, my own ponderings would find better direction. But I doubt even Lewis can solve this mystery. The existence of evil is a trickier theological-philosophical problem than I have been able to describe here; even a little thinking along these lines demonstrates this. However, I’ve been thinking about the question long enough that I believe I have come to glimpse God’s character more clearly through my questions. Nevertheless, I still have no answer, although what follows is what I’m coming to understand of the whole thing, however incomplete or downright wrong it may be.
The passage from Revelation above made a new insight click into place. But I am always wary to draw any theology from Revelation, even more so than other works of prophecy—the other prophetic books having already occurred in large part, to varying degrees. In this case, however, what clicked was something already rolling into place, chugging along by the twin engines of Biblical exegesis and my personal disgust with a particular strain of “Christian” thought.
Exegesis may be an over-reaching word for what has taken place over the past few years as I read Scripture with a none-too-discerning eye. Yet one strain in my reading has been an attempt to better perceive God’s character as revealed in His Word, and several years ago now a single verse jumped out at me: Exodus 15:3 “The LORD is a Warrior, the LORD is His Name.” It did not strike me as surprising, necessarily, for as a young boy I loved the stories of battle in the Old Testament—David and Goliath, David’s mighty men, Gideon, Sampson, all those scenes which appeal to something fundamental in the masculine soul. Reading Eldredge’s Wild at Heart in high school emphasized this strand (among other strands; looking back, it may have been in this book that Exodus 15:3 was first brought clearly to my attention) in man’s heart. In the intervening years, however, this verse has been something of a lens through which I’ve looked, from time to time, at other portions of Scripture. The Imprecatory Psalms, for example, make a bit more sense in this light, as does Jesus’ brief but decisive burst of anger in the Temple Court (and His claim to have come “to bring a sword,” and the nature of His Second Coming), as well as all those mentions of spiritual warfare. It was helpful for me to remember that “spiritual warfare” was not some backwards-euphemism for pacific prayer and turning the other cheek. Spiritual warfare stems from something absolutely fundamental to God’s nature. 1 Samuel 17:47 is a good example of this: “All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and He will give all of you into our hands.” This acceptance of the Lord’s warrior nature also, in an indirect way, helps explain all those commands to the Israelites to “utterly destroy” the corrupt and rebellious peoples of the Holy Land—down to their wives and children, their goods and their animals. That, though, needs a longer treatise to satisfactorily explain it (I touched upon it in a previous blog, Meditation on Psalm 83, although it was a rather oblique study. That post, by the way, deals with some similar ideas to this post), so I’ll abandon that tangent for now.
That was one of the strands that recently produced a “mental click” of sorts for me—there is something in Yahweh’s make-up that is victorious, righteously violent, a vehement thing of holy burning fire. In the words of a current Christian writer, He is the God Who Smokes. He has the heart of a Warrior. Perfect Love is not pacifism (as we know deep down, I might add—who can watch Wallace fight in Braveheart because of his wife’s murder, and then for his people, or see Hawkeye and Uncas war for their loved ones in the Last of the Mohicans, or a grown Peter Pan fight to rescue his children in Hook, and not at least glimpse this truth? It is ingrained in our greatest stories. Even children’s movies such as The Lion King display an awareness of this.)
The other strand is a reaction to something all too evident in our culture, both Christian and secular. It is unbridled pacifism or, to put it into other words, an unwillingness to fight evil. I don’t know when I first became aware of this philosophy, but a good place to start talking about it is the book Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. All in all a very good and timely book, and I don’t mean to discredit a Christian whom I respect. But, in a portion of the book where Shane waxes political, he makes clear his absolute pacifism. It does not seem to me to be an objection to this war or that, but a categorical opposition to war in general. Now, this sentiment certainly carries a strong appeal; after all, in the absence of evil it would be the only right way to live. This last sentence, incidentally, leads with only a short step to my “apologetic” of the existence of evil and suffering. But let me digress—or, more optimistically, let me flesh out this idea.
Evil does exist. Ignorance of this fact leads to more than one serious error, but awareness of it can lead someone like C. S. Lewis to write his essay entitled “Why I am not a Pacifist.” Pacifism is, in a way, an unwillingness to get involved in the fight against evil: there were pacifists even during WWII, when the lines were quite clearly drawn. Hitler would never have been stopped if only pacifists faced him, and the Jews would be with us no longer nor, perhaps, Poles or Gypsies or Slavs. The fact that some wars—most wars, in my opinion—are unjust does not preclude the existence of just wars. To refuse to fight all wars is, since evil exists, to let evil win.
But I am not merely speaking on the scale of international war, although it will always be with us...historians among you might think to those precious few years when WWI was naively labelled “The War to End all Wars.” Nor am I really speaking of more “local” wars, genocides and all related cruelties that cry out to deaf ears for justice. When I speak of letting evil win, I am not just or even primarily talking of guns and bombs and fighter jets. There are cultural wars that are serious enough to merit the name...one thinks of the abolition of slavery in England, for example, among multiple other cases (I chose this one because in it the good guys won, and because the lines were so clearly drawn between right and wrong—albeit the insight for many came only in hindsight). In more general and germane terms, all of existence is a struggle, is a fight, is a war. (A pertinent quote from author Tim Stoner: “If there is a real enemy who is the Master Deceiver and pads silently about
like a ravenous lion seeking those he can devour, then peace is not an option.”)
Before I came to Oxford, I attended a talk by an Oxford professor of theology. Somewhere else I wrote a rather in depth response to it (see “Taking the Lion out of the Faith”), so I will only touch upon it here. During a talk I as a whole rather enjoyed, it became clear that this fellow strongly disapproved of the warrior imagery in the Bible, dismissing the sanctioned violence of the Old and New Testaments as unenlightened views by the writers. Now, apart from the chronological snobbery and subtle danger of this sort of prideful Biblical interpretation (“Oh, certainly David meant that—but of course he doesn’t understand God like I do”), what really annoyed me was that he used Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia to support his point. I confess I really couldn’t follow his handling of the representation of Aslan as completely pacifistic, but afterwards in a discussion with him I mentioned—after pointing out some of the warrior imagery God uses through His Word—that it seems that his view of God emphasized the Lamb and obscured the Lion. His response was basically to the effect that this Oxford don’s picture of the Lion of Judah was in truth a Lamb in Lion’s clothing. This, by the way, completely ignores the Biblical phrase “the Wrath of the Lamb”...obscuring the Lion of God does not allow one to escape God’s warlike character. I still fail to understand how someone familiar with Narnia can make that mistake, but it was a reminder that wishful thinking can lead smarter and better educated men than me into grievous errors.
Having read Tim Stoner’s writing (both his book The God Who Smokes and many of his blog posts) I knew I was not alone in my objection to this strain of Christian interpretation. Of course, Lewis and Luther and Augustine and the Biblical authors alone would be sufficient, but it is helpful to read those living now who hold to and profess the Christian tradition...And Stoner is far from alone in that, of course: he is joined by Eldredge and many others. But this is more than I need write about this issue: suffice it to say that I have long objected to the current tendency to amputate all warlike characteristics from God, His Word, and the Christian life in general. It cripples us and—more importantly—it is patently untrue.
And so I come back to the verse at the head of this essay, especially the italicized portion. “He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be My son.” There are two elements to this yearning cry of the Lord that are familiar throughout His Word. One is seen there at the end: I will be his God and he will be My son. Often in the Bible “son” is replaced by “people,” but the meaning is basically the same. Throughout the Bible God is crying out for His people, His children, to come into proper relationship with Him...Hosea comes to mind most poignantly to me (Read Hosea 2 for a good expression of this). Also, in Romans 8 one can see this desire of God’s heart, particularly in verses 14-17. Elsewhere in both Testaments, though, it is found—it cannot be ignored, it is a major theme of Scripture: God is looking to bring His children, His people, into right relationship with Him. This is not, I repeat not, Him looking for people to obey and serve Him (“God is not served by human hands”) or even to merely offer Him praise. Romans 8:14 says it well “those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” God is, to use C. S. Lewis’ imagery, looking to turn us into sons, gods, beings that—if we saw them today—we “would be strongly tempted to worship,” creatures of “everlasting splendours.” Oswald Chambers says it like this: “The one and only characteristic of the Holy Ghost in a man is a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, and freedom from everything that is unlike Him.” God is not seeking servants—He is molding us into creatures who reflect the glory and beauty and majesty of the Creator. This is a higher calling than any of us would dare aim for, but He is certain to achieve it nevertheless.
This leads to difficulties that our imaginary heaven of sweet winged cherubs and harps does not demand. He is not merely looking to save us (though He does so, gloriously and graciously). He is, of course, looking for members of His own family to bring in; He wants to share His own character and being—He’s not looking for milksops, as Oswald Chambers says. And this brings me to the second familiar strand in Revelation 21:7: The idea of “overcoming.” It is found in all those verses I mentioned before which speak to the warlike elements of God’s divine nature. But it’s not only found referring to God’s nature—it’s also seen in descriptions of God’s people.
There is Gideon; in Judges 6 and angel of the LORD appeared to him, telling him “the LORD is with you, mighty warrior.”
It is seen in Samson, Joshua, and Caleb.
There is, of course, David. In 1 Samuel one man describes David—“I have seen a son of Jesse of Bethlehem who knows how to play the harp. He is a brave man and a warrior. He speaks well and is a fine-looking man. And the LORD is with him.” David himself says (in Psalm 144) “Praise be to the LORD my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle. He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues peoples under me.” David the warrior-poet, it should be remembered, God called “a man after My own heart.”
This is sentiment is found in the New Testament as well. In Matthew 11:12 (ESV), for example, the Bible says “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” There is—clearer, I think—Christ’s statement that He came not to bring peace, but a sword. God wars against evil throughout Creation, and He brings us into that struggle.
In Romans 8 I find a clear parallel to the imagery in Revelation 21:6-8. A selection from the end of this chapter reads (note: all these verses should, as always, be read in context. But I won’t lengthen this post by pasting whole chapters) “and we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. For those God foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of His Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers...What then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?...In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
A weighty passage, that touches upon many things—not least giving a certain perspective to God’s purposes in predestination that concern both His nation Israel and His people the Church, both corporately and individually: He is working through human history towards a definite goal that is broader and higher reaching than any one person. But I will not get much into that—there’s much in Romans 8 that is over my head.
What I want to focus on is that idea of being conformed into His familial likeness, and also this imagery of conquerors, of those who overcome; throughout Paul, too, the idea of straining, pressing on, running the race, overcoming, is a common theme. Laced through the whole Bible, God is calling men and women into becoming more like Him. This entails—among so many things—becoming one who overcomes. I must say here, the story of God’s warlike attributes is only part of the story—I’m stressing it because it is a part that is often brushed under the rug in Christian circles I’m familiar with. He is also a God of Peace and Comfort—but the point is, that peace and comfort must be understood in context of a War which God is involved in, and winning. Yet we should not ignore verses such as Hebrews 12:14-15 “Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many,” and Romans 12:17-19 “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.” There are other verses too, which point to this mystery: God Wars and Restores, burns and heals, judges and forgives. Another mystery—it is the Lord’s to avenge and “the battle belongs to the LORD,” but He will give our enemy (and His) into our hands...we are not to be mere bystanders, nor amateur providences (See, e.g., 1 Samuel 17:47).
But back to my starting point: the problem of the existence of evil. We know that God created in order to display His Glory. It stands to reason, too, that He created in such a way to display a broad swath of His character, not just His power and divine nature, but other elements of His Person. He can do this without us, certainly—the heavens declare the glory of God, the rocks shout out with praise—but He chooses in His essentially relational Nature to bring us into the story. He displays His sovereignty, love, grace, beauty and more through both the animate and inanimate things in Creation. One of His favorite ways to display His character (it seems) is through His people. So we, in chorus with the stars and stones and waters of the deep, exhibit certain hints of His love and forgiveness, His justice and His mercy. But also—and here is the point—God’s victorious Nature, able and eager to overcome, is also made evident through Creation. This is done through both His deeds and ours.
It is, I think, safe to say this is a central purpose of Creation: To bring little gods into Heaven’s Family, thereby demonstrating God’s glory, His relational nature, His overflowing, joyful generosity and Fatherhood. To me (many probably realized this long ago) this hints at the answer to “why Sin?” Sin exists, possibly, because God wishes to display this portion of His Character: Yahweh is a Warrior, Yahweh is His Name. This perspective carries a slightly trouble flavor with it—it sounds as though God uses Sin for His own purposes. Indeed, that may be the case. But it should be remembered that we see now only darkly, as if in a smudged mirror, and that there do exist mysteries that are simply not ours to know. What we do know is that God is good, is love, is sovereign, is just, and that Creation exists for His Glory…somehow, the existence of Sin must—I think—glorify Who God is, or else I don’t think it would have been allowed…and we know it was allowed by a sovereign God. This emphasis on God’s conquering nature does not really change anything, it only offers a suggestion as to how Sin might glorify Him—by giving Him opportunity to Rescue, to Save, to Fight, to be Victorious and Sacrificial (it’s worth emphasizing that God’s Sacrifice on the Cross—which brings many sons into glory—seems to be only possible in the context of a war with Evil: and we know the Cross was for God’s glory).
But Sin does not only allow God to display His passion for victory directly, but also indirectly. God is creating creatures—us—who overcome, as He Himself has done and continues to do. He intends His creatures to display His own Person more than we realize. Not only by being loving and forgiving and generous (though that too, most assuredly), but also by overcoming and (in the words of Ephesians) “to stand our ground, and after we have done everything, to stand.” We are to eventually bear a strong family likeness, differing only in degree, to Jesus Christ. God does not turn a blind eye to evil, and nor should we…we were made, to some extent, for the very purpose of facing and defeating that evil through the grace of God. We need not shy away from the war imagery found through the Bible…it is meant first to warn us, then to rouse us. It is in this light that I read such passages as these:
“But the LORD is with me like a mighty warrior;
so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail.
They will fail and be thoroughly disgraced;
their dishonor will never be forgotten.
O LORD Almighty, you who examine the righteous
and probe the heart and mind,
let me see your vengeance upon them,
for to you I have committed my cause.”
--Jeremiah 20: 11-12
“A destroyer will come against Babylon;
her warriors will be captured,
and their bows will be broken.
For the LORD is a God of retribution;
He will repay in full.”
--Jeremiah 51:56
There are many such passages as these. We need not worry about the existence of evil, though we should be aware and serious about it. For we know Who wins, we know Who will ultimately be glorified: the Warrior Creator who is Love Absolute.
This may have merely muddied the waters, and perhaps there’s nothing truly original here; but the waters are muddy enough already, and I think it’s a perspective that should be heard in our quasi-Christian culture that takes the ostrich, rather than the Lion, as its mascot. Moreover, this seems to be a worthwhile path to explore...I do believe a part of the answer to “Why Sin?” is found in the propensity of God to conquer, to overcome.
