Joy Comes in the Mourning

Question Overflow: An Introduction of Sorts
Does your mind sometimes feel like it’s going to boil over like a bursting pot-full of sloppy slush? Do the hundreds and thousands of questions that circulate through it at high speeds ever threaten to take you under? If so, then (A), you’re weird, and (B), you’re weird like me. Not really. I’m kidding. I promise.

The overflow of questions I have usually go in one brain cell and out the other, but some stick worse than glue ear. Or tacky butter. Or Northland humidity. For example . . .

• Why is that guy in front doing 30?
• How did I blog till 12 last night not expecting to have a blogging hangover?
• How do half a million who are already “the least of these” die in an earthquake while I get to live in such a comfortable place, free from famine, drought and calamity?

Not only that, but why would God create in the first place if He knew so many would inevitably perish without knowing Him? Why would He create when He knew so many would turn their backs on Him and curse and mock and scorn? And , most of all, how could He allow them to perish under eternal judgment as a result?

Tough questions to be crunching whilst stuck behind 30kph-and-deliriously-happy-while-doing-it motorists. Especially when you aren’t quickly coming to any answers.

Love at its Roots
I’ve said before that for the very essence of love–not fluffy bunny, hormone-spitting, chemistry-induced, warm-feelings love; but never-ending, raw, indubitable love–to exist and show itself for what it is, there must be an ability to accept that love or reject it. We humans have a tough time wrapping our heads around that kind of idea, and we make it quite obvious that we just don’t get it when most all our questions are preluded with “if God is love, then ‘X’ . . .”

It’s like we’re so concerned with prescribing God our foolproof cures to all His “blunders” that we fail to see Him looking for relationship in us. We’re so involved with picking holes in why His love doesn’t make sense (because it doesn’t work like we work) that we miss the greatest exemplar of true love. One that never fails–always does what’s best.

Conflicted by Contradictions
Yet, the tragedies of Haiti still fresh in my mind, I type this with the security of a solid, stable roof over my head; the assurance of food and clean water tomorrow morning, afternoon and evening; the reliability of a caring, loving family; and the anchorage of loyal, true friends to be there in times of need. To this some would say: “You are so blessed! Can’t you see it?” which, undoubtedly, is true to an extent. But does that, in turn, mean that those who are unwillingly living in third-world countries right now somehow missed out? Are they, simply put, not blessed?

Similarly, I’ve heard it said many times when something good happens that God is, therefore, good. A parking space opens up, God is good. A high-paying job opens up, God is good. You find love, good. But, and this is what I find circulatory and somewhat contradictory, what about when a child is lying on the ground with their stomach eating itself from the inside out? What happens when so many die innocently in an earthquake? Is God now somehow rendered not good? If bad happens does that make God evil?

Pat Robertson, one of the hosts for the 700 Club, said an interesting thing about Haiti. I’m sure many of you know, but for those who don’t, his thoughts were that God was cursing the nation of Haiti for making allegiances with Satan. Of course, and completely understandingly, this created an outcry which basically consisted of something of polar opposites and things just as curious to say, like: “God is a God of love. He would never (ever!) murder thousands of innocent men, women and children; that is not the God we read about in the Bible.” Hm.

Do I think the earthquakes in Haiti were God’s judgment on its people? No. Do I think God is a God of love and thus would not kill innocent people? No. (Has anyone who says this read the Old Testament?) Do I know the answers to all of my questions? Again, a resounding . . . no.

What I do know is that it’s in times of desperation for truth–kind of like now–when things look to be at their bleakest, and one is forced to dig much, much deeper, that the Scriptures truly come into a world of their own, springing to life in a blossom of colour. What I do know is that when my heart completely and utterly breaks on someone else’s behalf, it’s then that I feel closest to God. What I do know is that I don’t, nor ever will, have all the answers, and, well, that’s OK.

Thoughts From Job
It was only after such questions as these that the book of Job connected with me on such a deep level. After he (Job) lofts all his complaints–and they are many–heavenward, God strangely enough doesn’t give Job a theological debate, or provide him with a well-referenced counter argument. Instead he puts perspective back where it should be: on Him. Then, God poses Job a choice:

Do you still want to argue with the Almighty? You are God’s critic, but do you have the answers?

Joy comes in the morning. That’s the verse/song that has followed me since forever ago, but doesn’t it sometimes seem like an eternity before the promised morning is ready to pull back the cloak of night? Sometimes I wonder if it’s not in the morning that you really discover true joy, but more often than not it is buried deeply and intricately somewhere in the mourning.

And then comes the morning.

Related Articles

• When Christianity Complicates February 10, 2009
• Clamped in Logic November 18, 2009
• The Astronaut July 20, 2010
• The Universe On A Tightrope: A World of Balance December 23, 2009
• Trying to Find its End April 13, 2010
• The Miracle of Life May 30, 2011

Tags: Reality In A Nutshell