There's nothing like blogging to escape from studying.... It's the perfect excuse, might even qualify as being constructive. Today I've pretty much stayed in bed all day; trying to kill a bug I picked up a couple of days ago, before it gets too snug and comfortable. To be fair, being sick is another great excuse for mindlessly letting the day slip away. This is why I'm not giving myself too hard a time about having been unproductive today, though I did promise myself I'd spend a couple of hours working on my lab report. Fourty five minutes ago I finally got a grip, sat myself down at my desk in front of my computer, and got started. It didn't last long though, hence this post and all my excuses.
On Friday night I lay in bed with a pen, a pencil and a Bible. Hearing about Kirsten being killed in Micronesia made my most prominent issue with Christianity surface with a splash. Isn't God supposed to protect the people that work for Him? Among others, I read all the chapters that had
protect in them, both from the NIV and ESV. To my surprise I was actually enjoying myself, I was reminded of why I chose to spend a year of my life studying theology - it
almost made me miss it. Although Christians explain the pain in the world as being the work of evil, not of God, they do not deny that God has the power to intervene. This view, shared by the ancient Jews, but to a more radical extent, is evident in the Old Testament (2 Samuel 24, 1 Chronicles 21) where two authors telling the same story disagree on whether God or Satan instigated events. Bible critics love passages such as these; how could two passages which contradict each other so blatantly be inspired by the same God. Jews can live with the contradiction quite happily though, ancient Jews especiallt, they saw everything that happened as coming from God; simply because allowing something to happen essentially is the same as doing it yourself.
My experience is that Christians agree with Jews in principle, but complicate issues by giving God the credit for that which is good, and the devil for that which is evil. Perhaps subconciously they try to seperate God from evil, which creates an oversimplistic dynamic that comes back to haunt them. Either God is intricately involved in everything that happens, or He set things in motion and is now watching things play out. The problem with distancing G
od from evil is that you essentially are left with a God intricately involved in all good things, but who suddenly sits back looking on from afar when we discuss the hurt in our lives. My mother was killed by accident, Kirsten was killed with intent; yet an omnipotent God could have kept them both from dying. In ancient Jewish perspective God might as well have killed them. Although this may seem troubling, this is also what Christians believe, they are just too afraid to say it - one might claim they have every reason to be. In a way it is similar to a doctor consciously deciding not to treat a mortally wounded patient who could be saved. This is a painful image, how can parents forgive and learn to love this doctor, whose patient was their daughter; or a son forgive the doctor who chose not to save his mother? Christians may not like this potrayal of their all-loving God, yet I believe it is essential that they accept that this is exactly what they claim to believe in. By claiming that God is not directly responsible, they essentially state that he was not capable of intervening- what kind of a
god is that? It most definitely is not the God of the Bible.
Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with my biblical study of protection. I think most Christians believe that God protects them - perhaps He does. But I couldn't find a single text that promised God would protect those that believe in Him. Christians may be confused and angry when God lets their loved ones die, but do they have any reason to be? Death, pain and suffering are facts of life on earth, when did God promise Christians preferential treatment?
On my way to the library to hand back the two last books in the Roman series by Simon Scarrow; I couldn't help but laugh as I turned off Fulham Road. Through the large windows of the building I could see two middle aged men gazing at paintings of nude women which covered all four of the room's walls. Both men were carrying half full glases of dark red wine, casting superior glances around the room; one appeared to be the artist, the other a potential customer. The whole scene was so absurd though, as if from another planet, allthough I guess Chelsea is, in a sense, just that.
