It was one of those delightful, peace – filled, warm spring days. Linda and I had risen, as is our custom, to coffee and bran in bed, relishing the morning sunshine. Outside our bedroom window, several ruby – crowned kinglets flitted in and out of sight in the chartreuse foliage like tiny perpetual motion machines.
As the day developed we had our morning constitutional, a brisk walk with Addy. After a few hours of technological tyranny at the hands of the computer we escaped by way of an afternoon drive to Canim Lake.
We stopped by Dennis and Marilyn’s place and picked them up. The four of us were ensconced in our usual comfortable banter as we made our way down the Canim Lake road to a house church gathering. Suddenly Linda pointed ahead to a lush field in the distance.
“Oh, look!” she said, “It’s a squadron of Canada geese taking off in full flight formation. Isn’t that delightful?”
The four of us paused our lighthearted repartee and watched as we drove. The large geese, there must have been at least 30 of them, seemed to lift off in unison from the field. They were obviously fat and full from feasting on lush spring grass all morning. They were about 50 metres above and just ahead of us, such a spectacular and archetypal Canadian scene.
“Oh my gosh!” said Linda. “Close the windows—quick!”
With perfect timing, the whole squadron opened their bomb bays and ejected the goosey green byproduct of their morning buffet. We watched helplessly as we drove at highway speed and the mass fell with perfect trajectory to nail us like 30 small smart bombs. The pickup was instantly covered from end to end in green goose goo. Somehow I managed to get the truck to the shoulder without driving off the road.
We wiped the windows with toilet paper, and then proceeded to Canim Lake in silence. None of us had been dumped on quite like that before and the experience was worthy of some kind of reverent awe. Finally Marilyn laughed and the rest of us could no longer contain ourselves. I had to pull off the road again until we were done.
Being the kind of strange bird that I am, everything that happens to me in life gets tangled up in the process of reading and interpreting my Bible. Later that night, the process began. I began by reflecting that life, at least mine, often seems like our drive out to Canim Lake. Things are going along nicely, perhaps even serenely and then, seemingly out of the blue, stuff happens. What do you do when the stuff that happens really, really stinks?
I think it was this question that spawned the book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Rabbi Harold Kushner back in 1978. Perhaps it is explaining this question that inspired the writing of the book of Job in the Bible. But I confess that neither Kushner’s apparent message of resignation concerning human troubles and looking to the future in the face of them, nor the book of Job’s explanation that human kind is “born to trouble just as sparks fly upwards” (Job 5:7) are particularly helpful or hopeful for me.
At one point it seems to me that the apostle Paul is addressing this same question directly in his letter to the Romans. I am not sure what the stuff of life was that caused Paul to write what he does; but, I am pretty sure it was pretty bad stuff. In the face of whatever it was, Paul writes that he sees all creation groaning under the labour of suffering and trouble. But rather than get into a theological explanation of theodicy or how a loving God could allow bad things to happen to good people, he bursts into a statement of faith that begins with: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). These hope – filled words are further pushed along when Paul encourages a few sentences later: “What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?” And it is driven home with his conclusion: “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38 – 39).
What Paul writes says to me that bad stuff can and does happen, even to good people, and it can appear to change everything. But it can’t change God, nor God’s love, nor God’s loving plan being worked out in a person’s life. It’s similar to what Jesus told his disciples after speaking plainly about trials and tribulation: “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
These biblical texts are words of hope, not escape nor even explanation. I used to think, in fact I am still tempted to think, mostly in terms of escaping the hard stuff of life that seems to get dumped on me. As I study the Bible and attempt to live my life under its message, I find the text more and more moving me to a theology of hope or at least living in hope rather than escape.
Recently I was listening to the Current on CBC Radio about Belgium’s euthanasia laws. Tom Mortier was being interviewed. He was shocked that his mother found a doctor to end her life, after she struggled with depression for decades. He was contending that this was a sign Belgium’s law didn’t work for everyone. He was asked if he agreed that someone who had suffered for such a long time could desire to be euthanized. His response was that he could never agree with that, though he could understand it. To agree would justify it and to nullify hope. Mortier was given the last word and his last words were that, “there is always hope.” The Bible’s last words are: “And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” (Romans 5:5)
