The title of this blog is a reference to the lilting refrain from the Madonna/Justin Timberlake song “4 Minutes” that I have rigorously stuck in my head. Do you laugh at me, dear reader? Go listen to it, I *dare* you. It’s audio crack cocaine.
The state of the LA Allens is pretty hectic right now, as we’re literally hurling our most prized possessions at ragged brown boxes and the rest at the Salvation Army, feverishly eyeing our launch date of August 18th. Some of you have probably heard that we have indeed secured an apartment in Los Angeles at long last, and we’re very pleased with the results. The rooms are spacious, the neighborhood has very low crime and high quality of life, etc. It seems like a good place to be.
I spent the previous weekend in Alexandria saying goodbye to the many friends I’m leaving behind there, and I admit the process was hard for me. For the most part, we elected to spend that time like any other regular weekend, but towards the end I found myself more and more emotionally vulnerable as I became aware I was clocking my last few hours with these wonderful people for quite some time. It’s amazing how the Lord has blessed me with the likes of Billy, Zach, Mike, Chaney, Mommy Cover, Kristy, the Generalissimo, Mark, Brendan, and so on and so forth (there are more). I never thought I’d find a group of people so amazingly complex, diverse and utterly fantastic, and it’s quite a sacrifice to give up the ability to see them whenever I like. Whenever the thought bothers me, the Lord gently reminds me that His plan for me has always required giving up things I want in the name of something more, and even though he doesn’t say *what* exactly, He seems to hint that I’m heading for something big. It is that thought that keeps me strong.
And also having Corelyn. My goodness, what would I *do* without the woman? She and I had a long conversation today reflecting on the differences in our, ahem, styles of accomplishing things. It is a well-known fact, learned by myself by viewing my wife do everything from study for a test to planning a wedding, that her style of overcoming obstacles is made possible by an acute ability to worry about them intensely; mine is not. Contrary to what my immediate family might snickeringly imply about me, I am quite capable of exhaustive stress, but when faced with “tasks” such as getting everything packed, I compartmentalize down to one thing at a time. If I get all of my clothes packed, then great! There’s an accomplishment, good for you, Rew. I am aware of the sum of my troubles, insofar as I lay out a plan to surmount them, but I take them apart a piece at a time, focusing only a single thing until it’s completed.
Corelyn finds this approach to be something on the border of insanity, she must worry about the big picture. Because her mortal nature forces her to, she also does things one at a time, but she proceeds through them with a violent intensity, constantly reminding herself not to be happy that she finished one thing because there’s ten more coming. In her eyes, I am a grinning fool, content to thoroughly stomp out a burning leaf while a forest fire rages behind me. By my perception, on the other hand, she is a kamikaze pilot whose desperation to achieve their goal will necessarily extinguish her ability to enjoy its completion.
You cannot fathom how endlessly frustrating it can get, trying to make her enjoy what she accomplishes. It’s true, Corelyn’s renegade problem solving style does actually get more done than my “one-piece-at-a-time” approach, but the delicious irony of her situation is that she never actually feels victorious, whereas I feel like a champion the whole time. When the wedding was over, I tried vainly to make her think about how happy she was that it all went off without a hitch, remembering her honeyed promises of how much more pleasant she’d be once this gigantic ceremony was “out of the way,” but of course it didn’t work. “Isn’t it great how the wedding went perfectly?” I’d ask, “Aren’t you so thrilled?!”
Her reply was exactly the same one I always get in these moments: a stoic “yeah,” followed by a slow darkening of her face with worry, a quick breath, and then “But now we have to do [insert looming task].” Sigh. Well I tried.
Anyway, the point of this is that our conflicting managing styles are at war again on this project, but we’re so good at merging them into a cohesive team by now that we hardly notice. I’m confident we’re going to get everything done in ample time, but of course when I tell my wife this, she replies with a fervent, “How do you know? You can’t know!“
Moving to a different topic, I noticed that Uncle Dwight (or “D,” as he signs his emails, which I think is just about the coolest signature out there) engaged in a long theological debate with himself over the nature of God’s relationship with Satan. He referenced the Book of Job extensively, pointing out a central theme of that Biblical masterpiece: that evil takes place with God’s permission. He found this difficult to swallow, wondering how a being who literally taught us the meaning of “good” could participate in evil on any level.
A good question. I’d like to volunteer, if not an answer, perhaps some thoughts in return, because I have spent some time in a college atmosphere studying the Book of Job, and I’m ardent in the opinion that it should be taken seriously to the utmost degree by all civilizations ever.
Ahem.
First off, there is no question that Job’s story is fictional, and the author intends us to be aware of that fact. Its bombastic and exaggerated nature aside, the scribe behind Job gives us exact recitations of extended dialogues between several men, God, the Devil and angels, and even in a time with tape recorders, we expect that level of omniscience to be a tell-tale sign of fiction.
So, moving on, I think Job forces one of atheism’s most ardently pursued complaints against God into the forefront of our minds: why the heck does God let evil stick around? We Christians pretend we get that one wrapped up in “Jesus 101,” but truthfully as soon as real tragedy hits us, we find ourselves grappling with it more than we’d like to admit. When you look at the situation with even the most basic common sense, you inexorably come to several conclusions: nothing happens without God letting it be so, so God must permit evil, so God has some kind of hand in evil happening.
Don’t think so? I don’t blame you, but Job knows better. You’ll notice that even though Satan is the guy doing the destroying, the actual text of the story makes no distinction between the Devil and God being responsible; both are blamed, and this is never pointed out to be incorrect. God is not a person, remember, He’s totally omniscient, so He has the power to stop any act of evil whenever He decides. As such, any act of evil that does happen anyway, He must and does take some level of responsibility for. He didn’t do it, and He doesn’t like it, but He’s going to allow it.
I think the reason this gets friction from many people is that they have an image of God as completely incapable of participating in evil. He’s kind of a white sheet in this depiction, beyond all stain or reproach. Now I agree with the notion that God is perfect, in fact I think it’s a fundamental truth of life, but the idea that He’s also (for lack of a better term) a prude is, I think, where the understanding goes a little awry. People will frequently shake their heads vigorously at me and say, “No. No. God can’t be part of any evil, ever. He can’t.”
But already there is danger in that statement, before we even dissect it further. God can’t? I know some Christians balk against this idea, but I staunchly believe that the ol’ I AM can do absolutely anything. There is no such thing as “God can’t.” It’s just a ridiculous concept. Some people say “God can’t go back on His word,” but of course He can! If He couldn’t, the fact that He never does would be less impressive. More than that, in a strictly hypothetical sense, God is so powerful that He could promise one thing, do something completely else, and still not be breaking His word. Your knee-jerk response here is no doubt something along the lines of, “That makes no sense,” but I urge you to remember that your system of logic is defunct on the level God plays at. Where He is, reason as we know it simply does not apply.
What binds God? What force can hold Him accountable if He chooses to do one thing and then changes its nature? What will tell Him, “No. That cannot be done.” As humans, prohibitions on our abilities are such a basic part of our experience that we forget to let the concept go when dealing with a sovereign deity.
My point is simply this: God can be in contact with things that are evil, and indeed the Bible makes it clear that He is. This should not surprise us, God is not a fair-weather dandy who hides in Heaven, pinching His noise crying, “Eeeewww! Evil!” That picture gives “evil” too much credit. Remember what C.S. Lewis so wisely pointed out about the Devil: he is not the “opposite” of God, because that implies too much equality. There is no opposite of God. Evil as we know it is an askew splinter faction, neither strong enough to really stand against the Divine for a second longer than He permits nor novel enough to be an actual counterpart to “good.”
All evil things are done for some kind of “good” end, whether because the perpetrator believes it will achieve a noble end, or simply to experience a pleasurable sensation. We, along with the Devil, only do wrong if we like it or we think it is somehow for the best, and try as some of us might, no one can create evil for evil’s sake. That is a mark of its utter weakness. Good, on the other hand, can simply render itself as both a means and an end; it is so incredibly powerful that it justifies itself.
Now, the next point I want to make is going to really boil a little blood: God created the Devil. He did, and He did it on purpose. You just have to deal with that, people. I know we don’t like to think about it, but it’s utterly ridiculous to assume that Yahweh either A) didn’t make him, and he came into being on his own, or B) somehow created him by accident, which implies a God in far less control of the universe than any of us should be comfortable with. Unless I am prepared to call my creator a fool or incompetent, I must assume He’s got this whole “existence of everything ever” in check, and that it’s all going the way He has decided it will. The Devil did not sneak up on Him, guys, and we look like we don’t know what we’re talking about if we tell people that’s what happened.
So now you have to face an ugly fact: God created the Devil, knowing he would become the Devil. Does that make God evil? No. Wrong. Evil is not an infectious disease, people, you don’t “catch” it just by touching Satan. God created the Devil for a reason, and that reason is being played out right now, and it is for *good.* The Lord’s plans for us are for *good,* we just can’t see how yet. Fundamentally, some people will never believe that, and some people always will, but there is no way to prove it. You either buy it or you don’t, it can’t be argued like some kind of scientific theory.
Do we understand all of this? Not fully. But there’s no question that Satan’s tempting influence grants us the ability to freely choose where our loyalties lie, to actually decide we love the Lord and thus be in a free and complete relationship with Him; perhaps that freedom comes with a terrible price. Personally, I think it’s worth it, and God seems to as well. Evil things have happened, and they’ll keep happening, but remember that the scope of human suffering only seems awful now. If we could talk to Paul, or Peter, or anyone else who has been martyred in the service of the Lord, I guarantee you they’d smile and insist it was not only worth it, but a small price to pay for the glory ahead.
Also, and I can’t prove this one, but remember that we have a God who is all-powerful. Maybe, once we’ve all gained whatever experience He desired for our eternal souls from these trials, He’ll simply wipe the bad parts from having ever happened. He never mentioned anything about that that I know of, but it’s nice to know He could.
A few things to mull over. It’s late and I need some sleep.
Wowzers. Good job on Job!