Questioning God

Readings for today: Habakkuk 1-3, Psalms 133

One of the things I love most about the Bible is how it doesn’t shy away from hard questions. It is not afraid to depict God’s people in moments of significant doubt or fear or struggle. It talks about the life of faith as it is, not as we often pretend it to be. I think about the many preachers and teachers I know who pretend like they have no doubts, no questions, no fears. I can’t relate to such people. Their system is too closed. Their theology too rigid. Their god is too small. I prefer the God of the Bible. A God of infinite wonder and mystery. A God who is not afraid of hard questions. A God who is big enough and strong enough and secure enough to take our anger and frustration. A God whose ways are so much higher than our ways and whose thoughts are so much higher than our thoughts. A God who loves to wrestle. A God who loves to get His hands dirty. A God who stands with me in the trials. A God who walks with me through every dark valley. Perhaps that’s why I love the questions from Habakkuk today. He asks some of the same questions I often ask myself.

“Why do you force me to look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Oppression and violence are right in front of me. Strife is ongoing, and conflict escalates. This is why the law is ineffective and justice never emerges. For the wicked restrict the righteous; therefore, justice comes out perverted.” (Habakkuk‬ ‭1‬:‭3‬-‭4‬ ‭CSB‬‬) I hate what I often see happening around me in the world. I hate the corruption of the powerful. I hate the injustice they create. I hate the selfishness and greed and narcissism I see on display on a daily basis. I hate the outrage and anger and division and enmity that’s fostered online or by those in places of leadership. I hate the fact that I have to read about these things every day. I hate the fact that my social media feed is a dumpster fire of wrongdoing. I hate that oppression and violence are right in front of me. It makes me question the effectiveness of God’s Law. It makes me wonder about the impact of the church. It sometimes even causes me to despair. One can argue that perhaps I should stop reading the news or get off social media. That’s escapism. It’s the privilege of those who have enough wealth and power to insulate themselves against the terrors of this world. I have far too many friends around the world who don’t have that luxury so I do my best to stay in the battle with them.

“Are you not from eternity, Lord my God? My Holy One, you will not die. Lord, you appointed them to execute judgment; my Rock, you destined them to punish us. Your eyes are too pure to look on evil, and you cannot tolerate wrongdoing. So why do you tolerate those who are treacherous? Why are you silent while one who is wicked swallows up one who is more righteous than himself?” (Habakkuk‬ ‭1‬:‭12‬-‭13‬ ‭CSB‬) If I’m totally honest, sometimes I even question God. Why does He not work more quickly? Why does He seemingly tolerate those who are treacherous and dishonest and corrupt and evil in our world? Why does He seem to be silent when the wicked swallow up the righteous? I feel this most viscerally when I look at the church. When I see so many false teachers flourish and so many faithful pastors flounder. I ask myself why so many abusers are given positions of influence and power while those who would never harm the sheep labor in obscurity. I think of a church I know who has a pattern of sexual immorality among her pastors. In the fifteen years I’ve been in my community, they’ve had at least twelve members of their pastoral staff commit sexual infidelity on some level. How are they still in existence? Why does God not remove their lamp stand? It baffles me.

“I will stand at my guard post and station myself on the lookout tower. I will watch to see what he will say to me and what I should reply about my complaint…Though the fig tree does not bud and there is no fruit on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though the flocks disappear from the pen and there are no herds in the stalls, yet I will celebrate in the Lord; I will rejoice in the God of my salvation! The Lord my Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like those of a deer and enables me to walk on mountain heights!” (Habakkuk‬ 2:1, ‭3‬:‭17‬-‭19‬ ‭CSB‬‬) At the end of the day, my trust has to be in the Lord not in what I see happening in the world around me. I walk by faith not by sight. My job is to stand guard at my post and wait for the coming of the Lord. Though there is so much fear and anxiety, violence and oppression, suffering and pain in the world; I can take heart for Jesus has overcome the world. Though justice and righteousness and redemption and reconciliation and peace and human flourishing may not happen in my lifetime or in the places where I labor around the world, yet I will celebrate in the Lord. I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. I will give thanks for the Lord gives me strength. He enables me to leap like a deer and walk on mountain heights and accomplish things I never thought possible.

Readings for tomorrow: Zephaniah 1-3, Psalms 134

Spiritual Crisis

Readings for today: Psalms 81, 88, 92-93

Spiritual crisis is real. The consistent witness of God’s people throughout history testifies to the fact that there will be seasons when God seems so distant. When our lives seem so dark. When the light of Christ is hard to find. When the comfort of Christ seems long in coming. During such seasons, we feel overwhelmed by fear. Doubt. The cares and worries of this world press in on us. We feel trapped. Alone. Unable to be consoled. 

St. John of the Cross, a 16th century Spanish Christian, famously coined the term, “The Dark Night of the Soul.” It refers to particular seasons in the Christian life where we feel stripped of God’s presence. It’s not true, of course. God is still very much present in our lives but we do not feel Him. We do not experience Him. We do not sense His tender mercies and affections. During such seasons, we feel a void. An absence. And it causes us to wrestle on a deep, foundational level with our faith. As I said above, these experiences are not unusual. St. John of the Cross. St. Paul of the Cross. Mother Theresa. All testify to similar experiences, though their “dark nights” lasted decades. The author of Psalm 88 was clearly familiar with his own dark night. “God, you’re my last chance of the day. I spend the night on my knees before you. Put me on your salvation agenda; take notes on the trouble I’m in. I’ve had my fill of trouble; I’m camped on the edge of hell. I’m written off as a lost cause, one more statistic, a hopeless case. Abandoned as already dead, one more body in a stack of corpses, And not so much as a gravestone— I’m a black hole in oblivion. You’ve dropped me into a bottomless pit, sunk me in a pitch-black abyss. I’m battered senseless by your rage, relentlessly pounded by your waves of anger. You turned my friends against me, made me horrible to them. I’m caught in a maze and can’t find my way out, blinded by tears of pain and frustration. I call to you, God; all day I call. I wring my hands, I plead for help. Are the dead a live audience for your miracles? Do ghosts ever join the choirs that praise you? Does your love make any difference in a graveyard? Is your faithful presence noticed in the corridors of hell? Are your marvelous wonders ever seen in the dark, your righteous ways noticed in the Land of No Memory? I’m standing my ground, God, shouting for help, at my prayers every morning, on my knees each daybreak. Why, God, do you turn a deaf ear? Why do you make yourself scarce? For as long as I remember I’ve been hurting; I’ve taken the worst you can hand out, and I’ve had it. Your wildfire anger has blazed through my life; I’m bleeding, black-and-blue. You’ve attacked me fiercely from every side, raining down blows till I’m nearly dead. You made lover and neighbor alike dump me; the only friend I have left is Darkness.” (Psalms‬ ‭88‬:‭1‬-‭18‬ ‭MSG‬‬) It’s a depressing Psalm. One of the few with no resolution. No final ascription of praise. The psalmist seemingly feels God’s absence on a visceral level and is left all alone in darkness. 

So why does God allow the dark night of the soul? Why does God not rescue us from the depths of our spiritual crises? Why are such experiences seemingly so common and even necessary for the Christian? I believe it is how we learn the meaning of true faith. True faith must move from the head to the heart to the gut. To the depths of our being. It must become the fundamental reality of our existence. It must transcend what we think. It must transcend what we feel. It has to come from a place so deep within us that it can never be overcome.

Mother Theresa endured her “dark night” from 1948 until her death in 1997. She once wrote, “Where is my faith? Even deep down ... there is nothing but emptiness and darkness ... If there be God—please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven, there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul.” Some have suggested she lost her faith. Not true! In fact, her suffering was very much like that of Jesus on the cross who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” In the end, Mother Theresa hoped her personal letters would be destroyed lest “people think more of me and less of Jesus.” 

There’s no way to know the answer to such deep questions unless one is willing to walk through the valley of the shadow of death to the other side. Thankfully, at the end of my own dark roads, I found God waiting for me there. I found my faith renewed and strengthened in a way I could never have imagined. And I do not harbor any illusions that somehow my journey is at its end or that I won’t have to walk yet another dark road in the course of my life. What I do know is that God has driven my faith deep into my gut. Deep into the bedrock of my being. And though it can be shaken, it can never be destroyed because God is more real than my circumstances. God is more real than my feelings. God is more real than my thoughts. God is more real than my doubts. God is more real than my fears. God is the fundamental reality of my life and I am thankful. 

Readings for tomorrow: 1 Chronicles 7-9