Pastor Rich Vincent on Suffering

Articles from Theologian Rich Vincent. After 10 1/2 years of serving as Associate Pastor on the pastoral staff of College Park Baptist Church in Indianapolis, Indiana, Rich was the Senior Pastor of NewLife Christian Fellowship in Glastonbury, Connecticut for 2 years and in 2006 moved to pastor a church in Wisconsin. His outstanding website is ( http://www.theocentric.com). A few articles on the topic of Suffering follows (and Rich has a page sorted by topic to include his latest on suffering - : http://www.theocentric.com/spirituality/suffering

• A Cry In the Dark: preserving Prayer Amidst Unending Sorrow

  A look at Psalm 88.

  There are times in life where all hope seems lost. Times when no amount of religious activity – Bible reading, prayer, self-examination – provides any consolation. Times when it is impossible to “look at the brighter side” because no “brighter side” exists. Times when the only “light at the end of the tunnel” is – in the words of Metallica – just a “freight train coming your way.”

  Though times like this are (thankfully) relatively rare, they do occur – even to the most devout and faithful saint. It is for this reason that Psalm 88 exists. It is the cry of a believer who has lost all hope. It begins with complaint, descends to confusion and despair, and concludes with the haunting words, “darkness is my closest friend” (Psalm 88:18). As the only psalm in the entire Bible that fails to end with at least some glimmer of hope, it is known as the darkest, gloomiest, saddest psalm in the Bible.[1]

  The book of Psalms is filled with sad songs. Over one-third of the Psalms are categorized as “lament psalms” – psalms that express struggles, sufferings, and disappointments to God. Lament psalms follow the general pattern of complaint and petition followed by statements of confidence and trust. No matter how bad the situation, the psalmist always ends with a little comfort or hope. Only one lament psalm breaks from this pattern – Psalm 88. It ends with misery, despair, terror, and loneliness. No light breaks through at the conclusion of the psalm. It simply fades into darkness!

  Because of its uniqueness, Psalm 88 is an extraordinary expression of grief, sorrow, and pain. It literally shatters our categories by failing to follow the accepted structure of a lament psalm. Everything does not turn out well in this psalm. It provides us with no hopeful ending, much less a happy ending.

  This kind of experience is comparatively rare, therefore this psalm stands alone. There is no other like it. However, this kind of experience is real, therefore this psalm is included in the sacred canon. Things do not always turn out right in the end. Life is clearly not this simple. Any Christian that denies this has to tear this page out of his or her Bible.

  Acquaintance with this psalm is important regardless of whether we currently share its experience. Though this kind of intense suffering may elude us for the moment, there will most likely come a day – should we live long enough – that it will come upon us. Psalm 88 allows us to share the sorrow of those experiencing its darkness while preparing ourselves to perhaps someday experience the same. Believe it or not, there is great light to be gained by honestly peering into the darkest, saddest, gloomiest song in the entire Bible.

  The Cry Begins

  The title (or superscription) of Psalm 88 states that it is a maskil, that is, a psalm of instruction. The authorship is attributed to Heman. His identity is impossible to determine. Some suggest that he is the wise man alluded to in 1 Kings 4:31 and 1 Chronicles 2:6. Others argue that he participated in King David’s grand trio of chief musicians (1 Chronicles 15:19). Ultimately, his exact identity remains elusive. However, we do know, in light of this psalm, that Heman was a godly man. Not once in the psalm is there any mention of personal sin. Furthermore, throughout the psalm he presents himself as a man who relentlessly seeks God.

  The psalm begins with a cry to God: “O Lord, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you. May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry” (88:1-2). The call to the Lord to hear the psalmist’s complaint is a standard feature of lament psalms. It is usually followed by complaints, petitions, and a statement of confident hope for the future. However, in this psalm, there will be no confident hope in the end. The psalm will end in darkness and despair. For this reason, the psalmist’s cry that God would hear his request becomes more poignant and pathetic on repeated readings, for the informed reader knows that this cry will apparently be in vain.

  The movement of the psalm gives no indication that the psalmist’s prayer is ever heard. His cry goes unanswered and brings absolutely no relief from his pain. Its verses move from one expression of profound misery and despair to another. There is no discernible progress from the psalmist’s opening complaints and final embrace of the darkness. Our knowledge that there is no relief in sight adds pathos and intensity to each line.

  Forgotten and Rejected by God

  The psalmist cries out because of his desperate condition. His despair is so great that he blames God for his troubles. His “soul is full of trouble” (88:3a). His life overflows with tragedy. He cannot contain it. His physical affliction – whatever it might be – is not his worst problem; his soul affliction is! He is in mental anguish.

  Our own inner turmoil in the presence of suffering is often worse than the actual experience of physical affliction. Though physical suffering is difficult to endure – and it most certainly exacerbates mental and spiritual suffering – it is its impact on the soul that brings the greatest hardship. In his own classic way, Baptist preacher C. H. Spurgeon states, “The mind can descend far lower than the body, for there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of wounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.” The psalmist’s suffering is so great that he cries, “my life draws near to the grave” (88:3b). Others affirm his desperate situation and consider him to be as good as dead (88:4a). His perpetual suffering has completely sapped his strength (88:4b). He is overwhelmed, physically drained, completely spent.

  He finds himself “forsaken among the dead” (88:5a). He feels utterly forgotten, like a carcass left to rot on a field of battle. And worst of all, he senses that God has completely forgotten him: “like the slain who lie in the grace, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care” (88:5b-6). For the faithful, this is the worst suffering possible. He feels completely abandoned by God.

  And not only does God appear to have deserted him; it appears as if God has actively rejected him. This is expressed in a series of verses that speak directly to God. In verses 6-9a he accuses God of treating him like a wicked unbeliever rather than a faithful servant.

  Sensing that God has completely rejected him, his expressions of utmost grief are emphatic and extreme. He feels confined to the “lowest pit” and “the darkest depths” (88:6). He experiences absolutely no comfort from God. To him, God’s presence is completely devoid of love and consists of only wrath – wrath that bears down hard upon him (“lies heavily upon me,” 88:7) and overwhelms him with wave after wave of unending assault. The moment he recovers from one wave, another immediately arrives, thrashing him with all the rage, power, and fury of God’s wrath. Eugene Peterson’s Message paraphrases it well: “I’m battered senseless by your rage, relentlessly pounded by your waves of anger.”

  The psalmist’s state of intense spiritual anguish stems from his sense of abandonment and rejection by God. The word pictures he incorporates to describe his anguish are absolutely overwhelming. He likens himself to the living dead, forsaken on a battlefield, confined in a dungeon, plunging endlessly into a bottomless abyss, with God’s full weight of fury bearing down upon him, wave after wave of wrath endlessly crashing against and around him.

  The psalmist is not only alienated from God; he is alienated from others. Perhaps if he knew the love and comfort of friends and family he could survive, but even this has vanished. The psalmist blames God for this: “You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them” (88:8). Alienation from his God and his loved ones causes him to feel trapped like a caged animal with no hope for escape. Peterson paraphrases, “I’m caught in a maze and can’t find my way out.” This brings immense sadness and unending grief. Night after night of painful loneliness, unrelieved despair, and endless tears causes him to confess, “my eyes are dim with grief” (88:9a).

  An Appeal to God’s Glory

  As a man of faith, the psalmist must wrestle with how God relates to his suffering. Not once does he consider his sufferings to be the result of blind chance or impersonal fate. He is convinced that they ultimately come from God. His faith in God forces him to experience a divine irony: the source of his comfort (the sovereignty of God) is also the source of his confusion. God’s sovereignty is both his strength and his straitjacket. His problem is not unbelief, but confusion that comes from belief. Amazingly, this confusion does not impede his prayers, but actually prompts him to pray further.

  Because he ultimately seeks to relate his experience to God, he continues to pray: “I call to you, O LORD, every day; I spread out my hands to you” (88:9b). In prayer, he pleads God’s glory. From an Old Covenant perspective, death is a great mystery. Under the New Covenant, the resurrection of Jesus sheds light on the reality of the afterlife and redefines our understanding of death. Prior to this, however, it was generally assumed that death completely disrupted a person’s relationship to God. For this reason, the psalmist argues that if he dies he will be unable to declare God’s praise. God will lose a worshipper. In a complex weave of desperation and faith he pleads God’s glory by mentioning four aspects of God – his “awesomeness,” “love,” “faithfulness,” and “righteousness” (88:10-12). He praises these attributes at the same time that they seem completely lost to him. It is obvious that he is not currently experiencing any one of these qualities. Yet, even though he does not experience these things, he recognizes them as divine attributes of God. He longs for God to relieve him from his troubles so that he can continue to faithfully declare God’s glory – not simply by word but by experience.

  With this hope, he continues to pray (88:13). It is at this point that we expect things to change. The pattern of lament songs is to express complaint followed by a renewed commitment to God. In other words, light always breaks through in some small way. That is not the case for Psalm 88. There is no divine reversal. Things do not get brighter; they get darker. The psalm ends with the psalmist experiencing only misery, despair, terror, and loneliness.

  Fade to Black

  His plea ends with a bewildered question: “Why, O Lord, do you reject me and hide your face from me?” (88:13) No answer is forthcoming. The psalmist is left with nothing other than his own fears, anxieties, and deep sense of alienation. The psalm concludes with his reflections on his bitter past, his experience of God’s anger, and his estrangement from all human comfort.

  The remembrance of his past only brings frustration. His suffering has lasted so long that he can hardly remember when it started (88:15a). It colors his life so sharply that he can no longer recall any good times. “For as long as I remember I’ve been hurting; I’ve taken the worst you can hand out, and I’ve had it” (The Message). Life is nothing but terror inflicted by God resulting in despair (88:15b). The Hebrew word translated as despair literally means “distracted,” “perplexed,” or “overwhelmed.” His mind is befuddled. He has been tossed around so violently that he can no longer think straight. Unable to collect his thoughts, the lengthening trial increases the weight of his unbearable burden. He is too tired to hope; too tired to look into the future and envision a bright tomorrow.

  His experience of God is reduced to an overwhelming and unending sense of divine wrath. Like a sea of liquid fire God’s wrath sweeps over him (88:16). He knows only terror. He sees no possible escape from God’s unending flood of anger and wrath. He drowns in the abyss of divine displeasure, completely engulfed by adversity: “Your wrath has swept over me… surrounded me… completely engulfed me” (88:16-17).

  Sensing nothing but angry rejection from God, his sorrows are increased by his complete alienation from other people: “You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; the darkness is my closest friend” (88:18).

  Everything good has been ripped away from the psalmist. All human sympathy is totally withdrawn. All sense of divine consolation is removed. Nothing is left but darkness.

  We are left with a pathetic picture of a child of God crying alone in the dark. All alone, with no human companions, he continues to pray for a deliverance that never arrives.

  Light from a Dark Place

  How would you go about counseling this man?

  Would you encourage him to pray? He already is.

  Would you challenge him to read his Bible? He knows his Bible.

  Would you demand that he recapture a worshipping heart? He already wants to proclaim God’s wonders.

  Would you challenge him to remember God’s awesomeness, faithfulness, and righteousness? He already embraces these things.

  Would you tell him to walk closer to God? He already is seeking him.

  Would you tell him to find the hidden sin in his life? He is already asking “Why?”

  Furthermore, the psalm in no way hints that his problem stems from personal sin.

  Would you pass on to him three or four helpful principles related to suffering? What would those be and how could you keep them from sounding heartless, cruel, and simplistic?

  Would you tell him to look at the brighter side of life? What brighter side would that be?

  No simple solutions can adequately address the deep pain of the psalmist. The psalmist’s intense and unrelieved suffering is inconsolable. If this is the case, what light does this psalm shed on suffering?

  First, this psalm witnesses to the possibility of intense and unrelieved suffering as a legitimate experience of godly and faithful believers. Though this experience is comparatively rare, it is real. The fact that this psalm is included in the sacred canon of Israel’s worship songs and prayers proves that this experience is not without precedent among the faithful. In other words, it is not evidence of a lack of faith or the presence of sin. Life in a fallen world holds out the possibility of radical suffering for all people – including people of deep and abiding faith.

  Secondly, the psalm teaches us to pray in the dark. In spite of his deep suffering, the psalmist refuses to let go of God. Three times in the psalm we hear the psalmist speak of his commitment to pray to God (88:1, 9b, 13). He calls out “in the morning” (88:9b), “day and night” (88:1), “every day” (88:9b). His experiences of divine wrath, human rejection, and personal despair do not detract him from regularly and continually approaching God in prayer. As difficult as it may have been – and it certainly could not have been enjoyable – he persevered in prayer even in the midst of absolute darkness.

  Where do you go in similar circumstances? Intense times of prolonged suffering and feelings of divine abandonment do not generally nurture deeper devotion to God. In similar situations, most people run from God. Some grow bitter. Others seek solace in sinful diversions. Few come into the Lord’s presence and refuse to leave without his blessing. Few follow the simple command in James 5:13: “Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray.”

  If we follow the psalmist’s example we will persist in prayer even when it goes unanswered for days, weeks, or even years. Though the psalmist’s prayers go totally unrewarded, he clings to God’s hand in the darkness. He believes that God is no less the God of salvation during the dark and difficult times. He considers that God is still worthy of his trust even though he possesses no obvious reason for this from his present experience.

  If we follow the psalmist’s example we will pray honestly. He makes no excuses and hides none of his complaints. In his prayer, we hear an honest expression of sorrow as the psalmist genuinely pours out his heart before God. His prayer comes from the depths of his being and echoes throughout the whole of his body. According to Spurgeon, “He prayed all over, his eyes wept, his voice cried, his hands were outstretched, and his heart broke. This was prayer indeed.” If we follow the psalmist’s example we will take advantage of the dark times. Would the psalmist have prayed so fervently if his pain had not been so perpetual? We don’t know the answer, but we can venture to guess that his desperate situation stirred him to greater measures of prayer than ever before. His faith muscles were stretched in every possible direction by circumstances beyond his control. Evil is overcome and transformed when it drives us to prayer. If an evil experience does nothing else than drive us to the Lord, it has been at least partially transformed. The evil, in spite of its dark designs, produces good when it results in prayerfully seeking God.

  Thirdly, the gloomiest, darkest, saddest psalm in the Bible reveals the experience of Jesus during his passion.

  A comparison of Jesus’ passion experience with Psalm 88 reveals remarkable parallels. esus fully experienced the sorrow, despair, and alienation of Psalm 88. If nothing else convinces us that this exceptional psalm of unrelieved suffering paints a real picture of the possible experience of the faithful, it is the cross of Christ. Like Heman before him, Jesus experienced the paradox that the source of his comfort (the sovereignty of God) was also the source of his confusion. God’s sovereignty was both his strength and his straitjacket. It brought him comfort and gave him endurance; it brought him great joy and overwhelming suffering.

  The author of Psalm 88 was ignorant of two things New Testament believers know: (1) the reality and promise of resurrection, and (2) the power of transformed suffering in Christ. Though the psalmist was unaware of it, we know that when we suffer – even to the extent and duration of Psalm 88 – that we have one closer than a brother with us who shares our experience and sympathizes with us (see Hebrews 2:18; 4:15).

  Even when darkness is our only friend, there is One with us in the darkness who has experienced the full weight of human suffering, the overwhelming grief of human alienation, and the unfathomable fullness of divine wrath. He has willingly done this for our sake and our salvation. We can trust him in spite of our circumstances. We can confidently cry to him – even in the dark!

  [1] A sampling of quotes from biblical scholars proves this to be true: “There is no sadder prayer in the Psalter” (Derek Kidner). “It is the gloomiest psalm found in the Scriptures” (Leupold). “This is the darkest, saddest Psalm in all the Psalter. It is one wail of sorrow from beginning to end” (J. J. Stewart Perowne).

• When God Seems Distant

  A look at Psalm 13

  How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

  How long will you hide your face from me?

  How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?

  How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

  "Were we to hear someone praying in this fashion today, most of us would take offense at such irreverence against the holy and faultless God." (Craig Broyles, Psalms, 85).

  Why would our reaction be so severe, especially in light of the fact that this prayer is part of Israel's sacred canon of worship known as the book of Psalms?

  We have been taught that good Christians do not experience such crises of faith. Those who do are most likely "in sin." If they were more obedient, more disciplined, or more aware of God's guaranteed "principles of success and prosperity in life" - whether in the word-faith name-it-and-claim-it version or the fundamentalist do-this-and-God-will-bless-you formulas - they would not experience such distress. Rather than complain to God, they need to "forget their feelings" and "think positive," "try harder" and "trust more."

  The tragedy of American Christianity is that if anybody ever truly admitted to the kind of feelings expressed in this psalm they would be held in deep suspicion. They would experience either the feverish application of Scripture proof-texts from naïve but well-meaning Christians or the cold shoulder of believers who interpret their feelings to be proof of their apostasy.

  Do Christians no longer have crises of faith? Are we never overwhelmed by our circumstances? Do we always have the answers - a "practical principle" to solve every problem and soothe every trouble?

  If we are honest with ourselves, we do have doubts. We are sometimes afraid. There are seasons when we don't understand what is going on around us - and we are troubled and distressed!

  What do we do with these feelings? Do we ignore them? (They are "only" feelings after all! Just the caboose on the train... Right?) Do we deny them? Repress them? Put on a plastic smile and pretend that everything is just fine?

  We cannot ignore or deny these feelings. Instead, we must integrate these emotions into the whole of our lives. We must embrace them and express them honestly to God. When we do so, our feelings of abandonment and desertion become expressions of worship. God wants our whole heart. To close part of ourselves to God is to fail to worship God truly and fully.

  
  Lament Psalms

  The "lament psalms" help us learn to truly embrace and express our painful feelings to God. Lament psalms are psalms that express struggles, sufferings, and disappointments to the Lord. There are three main types of complaints:

  1. Troubles within one's own self - one's thoughts and actions (13:1b-2a)

  2. Complaints about the actions of others - usually "enemies" (13:2b-4)

  3. Frustrations with God (13:1a)

  There are more lament songs than any other type of Psalm - almost 60, to be exact. Many people are surprised by this because the evangelical church has done a remarkable job of ignoring the psalms of lament.

  For some reason, the evangelical church has embraced the idea that religion should always be soothing and consoling and that religious folk should always be upbeat and positive. God is a "nice" God who wants us to be "nice folk" and have a "nice time" during our stay on God's "nice earth." Self-denial, suffering, sacrifice, costly commitment, and cross-shaped love are not prominent themes in American evangelicalism. They are not upbeat and positive. They are too "negative." The power of positive-thinking, the therapeutic affirmations of narcissistic self-love and self-improvement, and the numbing effect of comfortable religious consumerism are much more appealing to American Christians. Our American optimism makes it difficult for us to acknowledge negativity in the Christian faith.

  Lament psalms throw a wrench in such superficial thinking. The lament psalms acknowledge a valid dimension of Christian experience - the "dark side" of faith. Walking with God is not always soothing and consoling, upbeat and positive. Walking with God demands that we journey with God through the real world and not a Thomas Kinkade landscape. When we fail to acknowledge the dark side of life, we send a shallow message to the watching world that faith solves all one's problems and that a relationship with God is easy-going and carefree. But the world knows better. They are not impressed by our refusal to embrace the full reality of life by pretending the dark things of the world don't exist or, if they do, they don't significantly impact us.

  The lament psalms recognize the reality of evil and its impact on all people. The world is full of darkness, dangers, and difficulties. It is foolish to ignore this. We live in a groaning creation (Romans 8:18-23). It is only right that we would groan as well. The Spirit teaches us how to do this through the groaning psalms of lament. "And now I am happy all the day" is not in the spirit of the Psalms. It is dishonest, trite, shallow, and unrealistic. We must learn to sing the sad songs of the Bible again - for the sake of the world, for our own sake, and for God's sake. We cannot have an authentic relationship with God without the lament psalms.

  
  How Long? (1-2)

  Psalm 13 is the shortest lament psalm in the Bible. It is a paradigm of the essential features of a lament psalm. It begins with protest (1-2), followed by petition (3-4), and ends with praise (5-6).

  The psalmist begins by directly addressing the Lord by name ("Yahweh") and repeatedly announcing his distress with the words, "How long?"

  How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

  How long will you hide your face from me?

  How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?

  How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

  
  The psalmist is not seeking information with his questions, but is describing his present situation with rising intensity.

  Obviously, his struggle has continued for a long time. Time has slowed to a crawl. There seems to be no end to his situation: "Will you forget me forever?" The repeated "How long?" underscores the psalmist's impatience with God. It also underscores the growing urgency of the situation. The psalmist does not feel he can take this much longer. "It is not under the sharpest, but the longest trials, that we are most in danger of fainting" (Andrew Fuller). The psalmist's heart is on his sleeve before God. He has held nothing back. He is in dreadful emotional pain and feels stretched to his breaking point, with no end in sight.

  What troubles the psalmist? Three things - God, himself, and others. The psalmist is clearly frustrated with God and God's apparent lack of concern (Psalm 13:1). Though it is not clear whether Yahweh is the cause of the psalmist's distress, he certainly holds Yahweh responsible for its perpetuation. The repeated "How long?" reveals the psalmist believes Yahweh has the power to answer the question and to do something about the situation. "As 'hiding the face' implies a deliberate act, so 'Will you forget me forever' may imply the same-in other words, these problems may not have merely slipped God's mind, God may be deliberately ignoring them" (Broyles, Psalms, 85).

  The psalmist feels abandoned - deserted by God himself. Could anything be worse than this to a God-fearing individual? He feels forgotten by God; left to himself, alone in the universe. Is not this the very essence of hell itself?

  The psalmist is experiencing hell on earth - no wonder he complains so urgently and intensely!

  The psalmist is also troubled with himself (Psalm 13:2a). His sense of alienation from God brings inner turmoil. He wrestles with his own thoughts. This constant wrestling leads to a deep sorrow in his heart - a desperate emptiness at the core of his being. Since the presence of God is the believer's most precious possession, the loss of God's presence is the believer's greatest fear.

  The psalmist also complains about the actions of others (Psalm 13:2b). Will his enemies be proved right in the end? Does it really pay to serve Yahweh? Could unbelievers be correct in rejecting God?

  The psalmist's complaints address the full scope of possible troubles - troubles with God, self, and others. The psalmist does not hesitate to speak of his feelings in regard to each component of his personal hell.

  
  Hear and Help Me! (3-4)

  Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!

  Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,

  and my enemy will say, "I have prevailed";

  my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.

  The psalmist's complaints are followed by two petitions: "Hear me!" "Help me!" (Psalm 13:3). The two petitions are supported by two motive clauses: "lest I sleep in death" (Psalm 13:3b) and "lest my enemy say..." (Psalm 13:4).

  An amazing thing happens in this section. The psalmist's lament ("How long, O LORD") is followed by his affirmation of God as his God ("O LORD, my God"). It is this affirmation that is the support for his petitions for God's attention. While crying that God has deserted him, he "is actually talking, face-to-face, to the God whom he accuses of forgetting him and hiding from him!... When we begin to speak to God about the fact that he has deserted us, we are no longer at our lowest point; the tide has turned; we are on our way up again" (Sinclair Ferguson, Deserted by God?, 26). If desertion does not make one pray, nothing will!

  
  I Have Trusted. I Shall Sing! (5-6)

  But I trusted in your steadfast love;

  my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

  I will sing to the Lord,

  because he has dealt bountifully with me.

  Here is the most puzzling aspect of lament psalms. Every lament psalm, with the exception of one (Psalm 88), ends with a recommitment to God.

  What is the reason for this abrupt change of mood?

  Commentators offer a variety of proposed solutions.

  1. Perhaps the composer was a manic-depressive, subject to wide mood-shifts. If this is the case, there are a lot of manic-depressives writing psalms!

  2. Perhaps the psalmist is a nervous believer who tacks on positive praise at the end in order to soften the harsh complaints at the beginning. But the psalmist seems too authentic for this to be the case.

  3. Perhaps the psalm is liturgical, and the last third is the priest's answer to the psalmist's petition. However, the personal pronouns don't indicate such a drastic switch in voice.

  4. Perhaps the psalmist is writing the psalm after the fact, so that it is a biographical backward glance at a more difficult time that he has now passed through. This may be in some cases, but it doesn't negate the fact that the psalms are written for other worshippers to guide their own experiences in the present.

  I think the answer lies in the word, "hesed," translated "steadfast love." The reason the psalmist can recommitment himself to God even though his situation has not changed is because his hope is not in himself or his situation, but in God's "hesed" - God's faithful covenant love. Although he feels abandoned and doesn't understand what he is experiencing, his prayer is rooted in the belief that those who belong to God by covenant really do matter to God ("my God"). Behind the real anguish is the real certainty that God will ultimately deliver. God's delay is the cause of the psalmist's anguish, but God's deliverance is certain.

  This is the answer to his repeated "How long?" However long his trial, God's faithful covenant love is longer! It is eternal and unfailing. It is a love that will not let go. He has trusted (complete - past tense) in God's hesed (5a). Therefore, whether he feels it now or not, his whole being - his heart - will rejoice (incomplete - future) in God's salvation. There will be an end to his sufferings one day. He will sing again one day (6a). Furthermore, he can sing now through remembrance of the past and confident hope in the future (6b). The "sorrow" in his heart will be replaced by rejoicing ("my heart shall rejoice") - if not now, then eventually. Though he feels no consolation his hope in God's hesed remains unwavering.

  There is a light at the end of the tunnel because of God's faithfulness, not his own. It is this hope that carries him through the darkness. It is also this confidence in God's hesed that gives him the freedom to fully express what is on his mind. Even though his perspective is obscured by his sufferings, God's hesed gives him the ability to persevere because God's hesed is unfailing.

  
  Reflections on Lament

  The psalmist's circumstances have not changed, but his perspective has. This would not have happened without honest candid complaint to God. The psalmist's lament has led to a more authentic relationship with God - a relationship that can withstand the ups-and-downs of life. Some of our most profound spiritual breakthroughs come in or after lament.

  It is the strength of the divine-human covenantal bond that encourages frankness. Our covenant bond with God is so deep we can be entirely honest-even wrong! "For the faith reflected in the Psalms, complaint need not indicate a lack of trust, nor does trust make complaint unnecessary. In fact, it is this trust in God that allows for the expression of such protests in the relationship." (Craig Broyles, Psalms, 87)

  Through the lament psalms we learn how to integrate protest, petition and praise. "The psalm leads those who read and pray it from protest and petition to praise; it holds all three together as if to teach that they cohere in the unity of prayer" (James Mays, Psalms, 79). Complex emotions are united in his lament: "Agony and adoration hung together by a cry for life" (James Mays, Psalms, 80). We discover that prayer is meant to be bold, brash, candid-not nice, polite, and flowery.

  God wants a real relationship with us. God wants us to be real with him. If we cannot be real with God, with whom can we be real? God wants to hear our story from our perspective. This is the heart of a genuine relationship - communication during all experiences and emotions of life! Faith sees all experiences of life, including life's worst, in terms of a relation to God.

  Prayer psalms do not consist solely of petitions. They were not mere business agenda or 'shopping lists' telling God what to do. The laments testify of the value of simply telling our story to God. This is no mere fix-it relationship but a personal one. These laments serve as a reflection on God himself, that he is interested not only in healing but also in pain. (Craig Broyles, Psalms, 32)

  The goal of prayer is not "theological correctness" but a real relationship in real life with a real God who really wants to know the real you.

  The psalms allow for a free vent to one's feelings. Remarkably, believers are not required first to screen their feelings with a reality check or to censor 'theologically incorrect' expressions before voicing their prayer to God. In effect, God allows our feelings to be validated, even if in the final analysis they miss the mark. (Craig Broyles, Psalms, 32-33)

  Pious words will not fool the One who knows the attitude of our hearts.

  Only true believers experience crises of faith. Only those who doubt take their faith seriously. The opposite of faith is not doubt, frustration, or complaint, but unbelief. Only those with true faith have the freedom to express their doubts and frustrations to God. It is impossible to experience the agony of the absence of God unless you have at one time known the comfort of God's presence.

  The ability to pray lament psalms demonstrates a real and realistic faith, bluntly honest with the realities of life yet taking the promise of God seriously. Perhaps unbelievers will take us more seriously when we show them that the life of faith is riddled with doubts, difficulties and darkness. They realize that "now I am happy all the day" theology does not fit anyone's experience - with or without God!

  
  The Cross: Uniting Complaint and Trust

  Lament psalms allow us to see how complex emotions can hang together in harmony. We often experience mixed emotions toward God while in the midst of hardship. Complaint (1) and trust (5) are not antithetical but can exist in harmony. They are not evidence of sin, unbelief, disobedience, or failure to implement God's principles. They are indications that we are truly living the Christ-life.

  Agony and ecstasy, sorrow and joy, complaint and trust, feelings of forsakenness and prayers of commitment can be experienced at the same time. They were by Christ on the cross. At the cross, "My God, My God, why have you forsake Me!" and "Into Your hands I commit My spirit" are brought together. To experience desertion is to identify with the pinnacle of Christ's sufferings: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me." To hope in times of desertion is to identify with the pinnacle of Christ's faithfulness: "Into your hands I commit my spirit." To pray Psalm 13 is to embrace both extremes - abandonment (Psalm 13:1-2) and commitment (Psalm 13:5-6)

  The faithful heart can be a heart full of mixed emotions. Protest and praise, complaint and trust, can coexist due to the strength of God's hesed relationship with us.

  Our lives are to be cruciform - cross-shaped. Our Christian experience is that of continually dying and rising with Christ. Since the cross shapes so much of our experience, we should not be surprised that we will often have to integrate complaint and trust, sorrow and joy. These mixed emotions can only be harmonized through psalms of lament - psalms of real complaint in the context of covenant love.

  © Richard J. Vincent, 2004

• The Problem of Evil and the Cross of Christ

  Can these all co-exist? (1) God is all-powerful; (2) God is good; and (3) Evil is real. Consider the Cross of Christ!

  Is he willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is impotent.

  Is he able, but not willing? Then is he malevolent.

  Is he both able and willing: whence then is evil?"

  (David Hume, Dialogues Concerning Natural Evil, part 10)

  In order for a theodicy (a justification of God's ways) to stand it must be able to harmonize at least three truths presented in Biblical revelation: (1) God is all-powerful; (2) God is good; and (3) Evil is real. Although all elements are affirmed by Scripture, the third element -- evil is real -- is the one most directly observable by all. This evil is of two general types: natural evil (catastrophic weather, disease, decay, etc.) and moral evil (evil acts that stem from human choice).

  The most common way to reconcile the three truths is by weakening one of the propositions. Rabbi Harold Kushner, in his book Why Bad Things Happen to Good People, writes, “I believe in God. But I do not believe the same things about Him that I did years ago when I was growing up, or when I was a theological student. I recognize His limitations.”[1] It was the untimely death of Kushner's son that drove him to question his traditional Jewish faith and abandon a belief in God's omnipotence.[2] According to Kushner, God would like to eliminate evil, but He can't -- He is not powerful enough. He writes, “God does not want you to be sick or crippled. He didn’t make you have this problem, and He doesn’t want you to go on having it, but He can’t make it go away. That is something which is too hard even for God.”[3] Although Kushner's desire is to comfort hurting people with this knowledge of God's limitations, the negative implications of his teaching are immense. The problem of evil is explained, not by removing the problem of evil, but by stating that evil is an inevitable problem because God is unable to do anything about it. In short, evil is as powerful, or perhaps, even more powerful than God.

  Others, like Mary Baker Eddy, modify the proposition "evil is real" or weaken the concept of God's goodness. Regardless of the specifics, the outcome is the same: one of the three truths is weakened or modified to minimize the tension between the statements. In Christian Theology, Millard Erickson ends his treatment by attempting to "present several themes that in combination will help us deal with the problem."[4] These themes are presented in no clear logical order. He considers freedom to be an essential capacity of human beings. He teaches that God has created the world in such a way that good things can be misused for evil purposes. He challenges us to expand our view of good beyond what is merely pleasurable at the moment. He points out that human sin (moral evil) is the reason for evil in creation (natural evil). He presents God as a knowing and willing recipient of the evil effects of mankind's sin. Finally, he calls us to consider the importance of hope in a life hereafter as the realization of God's final triumph over evil -- bringing ultimate justice and eternal righteousness. Erickson hopes the cumulative weight of these diverse themes will shed some light upon the problem of evil.

  Although many of Erickson's themes are helpful and illuminating, I find it interesting that he makes no attempt to directly harmonize the three propositions in tension: God is all-powerful, God is good, evil is real. The chief task in attempting to shed light on the problem of evil must be to prove that all three truths in tension can co-exist without weakening or modifying any one truth.

  Without attempting to defend a full theodicy (like Erickson, I also hold that this task is humanly impossible because of our limited knowledge and experience), I do think that the three truths can be shown to co-exist in a number of instances in biblical revelation. Joseph -- sold into slavery, put in prison, and then raised to a position of power second-to-one -- admitted to his brothers that God's sovereignty and goodness were concurrently at work alongside his brothers evil actions and motives (Gen. 45:5-8; 50:20). Job, a righteous man in God's sight and thus an innocent sufferer under the powers of evil (both natural and moral evil), learned of God's sovereign power because of His painful afflictions.

  But the best example of the co-existence of God's omnipotence, goodness, and the reality of evil is found at the cross of Christ. There, the sheer and utter evilness of evil is demonstrated. At the cross of Christ, we view the height of suffering and the greatest evil -- for when the greatest innocent being encounters the greatest injustice, we have the greatest evil. Jesus is betrayed by his close friend, abandoned by His disciples, rejected by His own people, unjustly tried by the Roman government, and cruelly treated by Jews and Romans alike. In the midst of this utter display of evil, God's complete sovereignty is demonstrated (Acts 2:23; 4:27-28). God both purposed and willed the cross -- even sovereignly using the evil motives and acts of men to accomplish His saving work. It is at this predetermined scene of utter evil that God's goodness is demonstrated most fully and clearly. God willed and ordained the weakness of the cross of Christ from all eternity as a demonstration of His goodness, love, and mercy. Indeed, there is no greater demonstration of God's love! (1 John 4:9-10)

  God, in the Person of Christ, has suffered and continues to share our sufferings (Acts 9:4-5; Heb. 2:18; 4:15). This is amazing in itself, but one's sense of wonder and gratitude increases when one realizes that God sovereignly ordained the introduction of sin into His creation with full knowledge of the ramifications upon Himself. Included in God's purpose in creation was the foreknowledge that He would enter human history in the Person of the Son and personally bear the evil effects of sin. In other words, God is not aloof or uncaring in allowing sin to enter human history, but has actually taken an active role in participating in, suffering under, and, ultimately, conquering sin. God entered human history and suffered under a curse that He had decreed! Whether or not we have a full solution to the problem of evil, we can know one thing for sure -- God cares! And He has taken bold steps to destroy and remove evil. At the cross of Christ, the greatest evil -- the betrayal and crucifixion of the Son of God -- becomes the greatest good.

  The implications of this act extend not only to moral evil, but also to natural evil. The world is cursed because of the sin of Adam. Christ, as the new Adam, during His earthly ministry began to reverse the evil effects of sin. On the cross He conquered the powers of evil (Col 2:15). Because of His work on the cross, all things in heaven and earth are being summed up under His authority (Eph. 1:10; 1 Cor. 15:20-28; Col. 1:20; Rom. 8:20-22). One day, Christ will usher in a new heavens and earth, where righteousness dwells! (2 Peter 3:13; Rev. 21 - 22)

  In short, at the cross of Christ, God's greatness, God's goodness, and the reality of evil co-exist without diminishing or modifying any one of these truths. God sovereignly ordains and overrules all events surrounding the cross; God reveals His love, mercy and goodness through the cross; all the while, Christ's crucifixion remains a result of real human evil and injustice.

  [1] Harold Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People (New York: Schocken, 1981).

  [2] This is a good example of how "the religious form" of the problem of evil can inform and shape "the theological form" of the problem of evil -- a helpful distinction Erickson makes on page 438 of Christian Theology.

  [3] Harold Kushner.

  [4] Millard Erickson, Christian Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1998), 448.

  © Richard J. Vincent, September 1, 2000

• Fear no Evil

  Rich analyzes Psalm 23.

  In his first inaugural address, on March 4, 1933, Franklin Delano Roosevelt said that the only thing we had to fear was fear itself. That sounded nice; it was good rhetoric; it had a nice ring. The problem is that it wasn't true then and it isn't true now. We have a lot to fear, and there is something warped about the person who never experiences fear. (Steve Brown, No More Mr. Nice Guy, p.133)

  It seems as if there are increasingly greater reasons to fear than ever before in our world. The menace of terrorism, rising social unrest, falling markets, and the looming threat of war on the horizon weigh heavy on all of us, increasing our anxieties and fueling our fears. At times, as in the recent case of the DC sniper, the fear becomes so tangible you can cut it with a knife -- so strong, you can smell it in the air.

  Do you, as a Christian, remain untouched by the fears of those around you? Does your Christian faith preserve you from the anxieties and fears that plague your neighbors, your world? I can only speak for myself, so I will be completely honest with you -- I am often a very fearful man! And I am willing to bet, that no matter how great your Christian faith, you have your fair share of fears as well. If we are honest, we share many of the same fears that trouble others around us. We fear the possible devastation and destruction of war. We fear the loss of job, the loss of financial security, the loss of home. We fear the loss of family and friends, the inevitable loneliness that will follow, and the haunting threat of insignificance -- living a life that appears to amount to nothing. We fear the loss of health, the loss of mental faculties, physical abilities, and the ability to care for ourselves. We fear rejection, pain, failure, embarrassment, aging, and ultimate abandonment. We fear the future, and, if nothing else, we fear our impending and inevitable death! We all must wrestle with our fears. To deny them is dishonest and dangerous. Furthermore, denial gives us no real ability to face our fears and courageously conquer them.

  Pastor Steve Brown writes, One of the most dangerous thoughts a Christian can have is to think a bold Christian has no fear, and then to deny the reality of that fear. I visit a lot of hospitals, and I will often ask a person who is facing surgery, "Are you frightened?" I get a great variety of answers to that question. Some Christians say, "No, Pastor, I'm not afraid. Christ is with me, and He has taken the fear." Others will say, "How can I be afraid? I'm a Christian." Not too long ago, I was visiting a delightful lady in our church, and I asked her the question. Her answer was disarming in its honesty. She said, "Don't be silly! Of course I'm afraid. Do you think I'm a nut? People die in this place, so you pray for me." That was refreshing! There is nothing Christian about the denial of reality. The courage of the Christian doesn't come without fear. (Steve Brown, No More Mr. Nice Guy, 133).

  How do you deal with your fears? The truths contained in one of the most well-known songs of ancient Israel can go a long way toward helping us truly work through, and successfully deal with, our fears. Outside of John 3:16 and the Lord's Prayer, Psalm 23 is one of the most familiar and well-loved texts in the Bible. Most people can quote it from memory -- in the King James Version, no less! This is remarkable in a culture in which most people rarely see sheep and have probably never seen a shepherd. For many, Psalm 23 is learned from the cradle, and for many more, it will be spoken at their grave. Why is Psalm 23 so well-loved? Because we are a people prone to numerous and diverse fears and this psalm recognizes and addresses them. Contrary to popular opinion, Psalm 23 is not simply about peace, tranquility, and rest in a quiet scenic mountainside. This is only to read half of the psalm. The psalm is also full of dark valleys, evil presences, and sinister, life-threatening enemies. Psalm 23 is not simply about peace in times of ease, but peace in the presence of evil. The peace the psalmist writes about is experienced in the midst of numerous dark elements of fear. Consider the fears that are suggested in Psalm 23:

  The fear of being in want, lacking the necessities of life -- food, drink, shelter, etc. (verse 1)

  The fear of weariness and exhaustion, calling for restoration -- new life, fresh wind (verse 3)

  The fear of death -- a universal fear that touches us all (verse 4)

  The fear of evil -- the experience of unjust suffering, abuse, loneliness, etc. (verse 4)

  The fear of enemies -- those who justly or unjustly oppose us and seek our destruction (verse 5)

  The fear of being forgotten, left alone, with no place to call home -- in short, the fear of ultimate insignificance and meaninglessness (verse 6)

  Psalm 23 does not picture an ideal world, but a weary world full of uncertainties -- a world full of shadowy valleys, evil threats, and menacing enemies. Psalm 23 paints a picture that has more in common with a Tolkien movie than it does with a Thomas Kinkade painting. And yet, in the midst of real fears, Psalm 23 speaks of a peace that passes understanding -- a peace that survives and thrives in the midst of the concerns and worries of the real world. This peace does not come from within, but from without. It is a peace that flows from a covenant relationship with One much stronger than ourselves! The Shepherd and His Sheep In this Psalm, David speaks of the covenant-keeping, name-revealing God of Israel as his personal shepherd: "Yahweh is my shepherd" (Ps. 23:1).

  This is an amazing statement in light of its cultural setting. In ancient Palestine, shepherds held a necessary, but lowly, position. In a large family, this position was usually assigned to the youngest son. A shepherd's work was constant, tedious, and demanding. Sheep are "high maintenance," requiring constant care at all times. An ancient shepherd worked under different conditions than modern shepherds. In ancient times, the sheep were not fenced in, but totally dependent on shepherds for protection, grazing, watering, shelter, and tending to injuries. One reason shepherding was held in such low esteem in ancient Israel is that the shepherd's full-time load allowed little time to participate in the religious activities of the community. There would be no need for shepherds if it were not for the pathetic plight of sheep. Sheep are helpless, defenseless, needy, and unable to provide for themselves. If not for their importance to humanity, sheep would probably be extinct! (Indeed, sheep may be one of the best untapped resources available for upsetting evolutionary theory!) Sheep lack everything necessary to survive on their own. If not for the care of a shepherd, sheep would be doomed. Under the Shepherd's Care Sheep owe their lives to their shepherd. They never assist the shepherd in the slightest degree. A good shepherd assumed the role of provider, guide, protector, and constant companion of the sheep.

  In Psalm 23, David uses the work of the simple, caring, lowly shepherd as a lens through which to view God's care and concern for his life. In verses 2 - 5, David highlights three needs sheep have and the caring response of the shepherd to those needs.

  Sheep cannot find food or water.

  Sheep lack a keen sense of smell.

  They are at a loss when it comes to locating the basic necessities of life. If left to themselves, they will even eat poisonous weeds.

  The good shepherd provides all the physical necessities needed to preserve the life of the sheep. It is these necessities that are highlighted in the opening verses of the psalm:

  To "lie down in green pastures" means to have sufficient food to eat.

  To be "led beside still waters" means having something to drink.

  To be "led in right paths" means to avoid falling in a hole or falling prey to wild animals.

  Simply put, when the shepherd "restores [the sheep's] soul" it means he is keeping the sheep alive through his providence -- something the sheep could not do on its own without great difficulty and potential harm. Sheep lack a sense of direction. Sheep get lost easily, even in familiar territory, often being unable to find their way to a sheepfold even when it is within clear view. To add misery to woe, sheep easily wander astray. This characteristic is behind the proverbial saying found in Isaiah, "All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned everyone to his own way…" (Isaiah 53:6). The good shepherd guides the sheep in good and right paths. He keeps them from falling into holes or becoming food for prey. He prevents them from wandering astray and losing their way. Over time, the sheep come to recognize and follow the shepherd's voice. The shepherd knows what is best for the sheep, and even though he knows it may frighten the sheep, his guidance is not limited to peaceful pastures.

  As the psalm progresses, we find the shepherd moving his flock from fertile slopes and quiet pools to the "valley of deep darkness" in order to get from one fertile field to another. The "righteous path" is thus a path through dark valleys populated with ominous enemies. The shepherd is quite aware that this arouses great fear in the heart of the sheep (for sheep are easily frightened), but he also knows that this is necessary to their survival. It is therefore wise for the sheep to follow the shepherd, for his reputation is at stake ("for his name's sake"). It is the shepherd's responsibility to provide and protect. It is the sheep's responsibility to trust and follow.

  Sheep are virtually defenseless. In regard to this, Chuck Swindoll writes, Most animals have a rather effective means of defense -- sharp claws; teeth; speed; ability to hide; keenness of smell, sight, and hearing; great strength; ferocity. But sheep are awkward, weak, and ignorant; they have spindle legs and tiny hoofs, and are pitifully slow, even devoid of an angry growl. Defenseless! The only sure protection for the sheep is the ever-watchful shepherd. (Charles Swindoll, Living Beyond the Daily Grind: Book 1, pp.69 - 70).

  The good shepherd protects from evil, deep darkness, and the presence of enemies. There is nothing more comforting to sheep than the presence of the shepherd. Thus, the greatest promise of this psalm, and the reason the sheep need not fear, is simply this: "I will fear no evil, for you are with me."

  Though the sheep are defenseless against evil, the shepherd is well-armed for attack and defense. His rod is ever ready to defend in attack. His staff is ever ready to direct, retrieve, and even discipline his sheep if necessary. Furthermore, the good shepherd refuses to lose any sheep under his care. To this end, he also uses his staff, counting the sheep that pass under, in order to assure not one is missing. The rod and staff are welcome sights to defenseless and fearful sheep -- the rod protecting them from enemies, and the staff rescuing them from wandering.

  Some interpreters introduce a second metaphor at verse 5. They argue that the shepherd imagery fades into Temple imagery, where a host is present to serve at a religious meal. One common argument used to support this has to do with the presence of a table and cups, for sheep don't eat at tables or drink from cups, do they? If this interpretation is valid, the host at the temple performs the same functions of the shepherd in the previous verses -- providing nourishment and protection. If one continues with the shepherd metaphor, the picture is one of the shepherd providing and protecting in a new setting -- no longer the peaceful setting of verses 1 - 3, but now in the ominous setting of the valley of deep darkness. In order to provide, the good shepherd must clear away the thickets, brush, poisonous plants, and dangerous insects in order to make a safe place for the sheep to eat and rest. In this dangerous setting, he plays the role of the compassionate servant -- tenderly giving food to the sheep at the "table", gently anointing the wounds, cuts, and scrapes of the injured sheep, and carefully giving cups of water to each individual sheep. Yet, even in this dismal setting, there is an abundance -- the provision is "overflowing," satisfying the sheep through the shepherd's goodness.

  
  Learning to Love the Voice of the Shepherd

  It is at this point in the psalm that David makes a great statement of faith -- a statement made possible by reflection on the shepherd's provision, guidance, and protection in the past:

  "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life" (Ps. 23:6).

  The shepherd's faithfulness in the past has assured the sheep that the shepherd will surely be faithful in the future. The sheep has come to know the voice of the shepherd and to find solace and comfort in his care. David's trust and confidence was built over the course of a lifetime of experiencing Yahweh's continual care and mercy. His trust did not develop overnight. Nor were his fears vanquished in young manhood. It was as David journeyed with Yahweh from the peaceful fields through dark valleys to his true home in God's presence in the Temple that he came to recognize God's tenacious and steadfast grace. Like David, we learn most about trusting God in the valleys.

  Our trust builds as we recognize that our paths through deep darkness are "righteous paths" the shepherd leads us in and through. Through it all, God's goodness and mercy pursue us in order to bless us. It is in the "valley of the shadow of death" that the most abundant provision and tender care of the shepherd was experienced! God's goodness and mercy are not passive in the psalm, as the translation follow might suggest. The better word is pursue: "Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life" (Ps. 23:6). Throughout the book of Psalms, it is ordinarily the enemies who pursue the psalmist (7:5; 69:26; 71:11; 109:160). In Psalm 23 there are enemies present, but the shepherd has rendered them harmless. Instead of enemies, it is the shepherd who actively pursues his sheep in order to shower goodness and mercy. It is a great encouragement to know that, like a policeman pursuing a speeding car, Yahweh does not simply follow us, but is in active pursuit of us. Why does Yahweh maintain such a high level of pursuit? Because we, like sheep, are prone to wander and go astray. Thankfully, the pursuit continues "all the days of one's life." Indeed, it continues throughout all eternity: "I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever." No one else can provide for us in this way and with such steadfast faithfulness. God's provision, guidance, and protection are lifelong and eternal. Like a good shepherd, God is always with us, a constant companion who cares for us. We, like sheep, are the most helpless of creatures when left to ourselves. But under the provision, guidance, and protection of the shepherd, we lack nothing that we need. This is what is behind David's amazing claim: "The LORD is my shepherd!"

  The Lord Jesus is My Shepherd

  Unlike David, we can possess even more confidence concerning the great compassion, care, and concern of God in light of the coming of Christ. Christ Jesus reveals to us the full extent to which God is willing to go to show us his love -- identifying with us in our humanity, sufferings, fears, and concerns. During his earthly ministry, Jesus took Psalm 23 upon his lips, but not as David did, in the role of a sheep. Instead, Jesus identified himself with Yahweh by proclaiming, "I am the good shepherd" (John 10:11, 14).

  Like the good shepherd of Psalm 23, Christ provides for us. His provision is greater than food and drink. His provision is his very life (John 10:10b - 11). Christ gives us everything by giving us himself -- he who is the "bread of life," the "living water," giving "eternal life" (John 10:28) to all who follow him. Like the good shepherd of Psalm 23, Christ protects his sheep from wolves and hirelings who threaten the flock (John 10:12 - 15). Like the good shepherd, Christ guides his sheep: "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me… and no one shall snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:27 - 28). Each sheep passes under his rod and is accounted for. If not, he personally goes out to retrieve the wayward sheep to the flock. In light of Christ's shepherding, we can affirm with David: Because Christ provides, "I shall not want." Because Christ protects, "I will fear no evil." Because Christ guides, "I will dwell in the house… forever."

  The Lord Jesus is My Sheep

  It is good to know that God has reached out to us through Christ, putting a human face on the good shepherd of Psalm 23. As comforting as this is, it still does not present the full extent to which God has gone to shepherd us. Not only has God identified with us in our humanity, but in Christ, God has completely identified with us in all of the things we fear the most -- hunger, thirst, rejection, betrayal, loss, pain, ridicule, despair, insignificance, and death! God's goodness and mercy has pursued us all the way to the bottom, for not only is the Lord our shepherd -- the Lord is also our sheep!

  Note the irony of Revelation 7:17: "for the Lamb in the center of the throne shall be their shepherd…" The Lamb is the King is the Shepherd! Not only is Christ Jesus our shepherd, but he has identified with our sufferings and sinfulness to the uttermost by also being our sheep -- our sacrificial lamb led to slaughter, silent before its shearers, bearing the sin of the world. "All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned every one to his own way, and the Lord has laid upon him the iniquity of us all" (Isaiah 53:6). Here is where the fullness of Psalm 23 is finally realized. Here is where the absolute sense of "I shall not want" is completely fulfilled. ·

  "for the Lamb in the center of the throne shall be their shepherd, and shall guide them to springs of the water of life;

  and God shall wipe every tear from their eyes" (Rev. 7:17) ·

  "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want" (Ps. 23:1) ·

  "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; neither shall the sun beat down on them, nor any heat;" (Rev. 7:16) ·

  "He makes me to lie down in green pastures… beside still waters" (Ps. 23:2) ·

  "For this reason, they are before the throne of God; and they serve Him day and night in His temple; and He who sits on the throne shall spread His tabernacle over them." (Rev. 7:15) ·

  "I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever" (Ps. 23:6)

  Thou Art With Me!

  We all, like sheep, wrestle with fears and anxieties. It is impossible not to, for we live in a world full of dark valleys, inexplicable evil, and dangerous enemies. The only way to "fear no evil" is to "know the shepherd" -- to know more intimately through green pastures and dark valleys what it is to bask in the greatest promise of all: "for Thou art with me." Only this truth is sufficient to calm our anxious hearts and still our fears: "I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me!" There is a peace that passes understanding that is available to us through Christ. It is a peace that is not of this world, but can be known in this world. It is a peace not found in self and situation, but in Christ and his provision.

  "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful… These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world" (John 14:27; 16:33).

  How can you begin to participate in this peace? The key is in one word: "my." David had the confidence to say, "The Lord is my shepherd." He trusted that God cared for him personally. You have even more grounds for doing this in light of the coming of Christ and the self-giving of Christ as the Lamb on the cross. God cares for us individually and personally. He desires you to call him "my shepherd" -- to rest in his provision, follow his guidance, and find comfort in his protection. God is such a good shepherd that when one sheep is lost, he will leave the 99 to find the one. Are you the one this morning? Is his goodness and mercy pursuing you today? Can you say: "my"?

  © Richard J. Vincent, January 12, 2003

  What believer would not want to experience this deep devotion to God? Surely, this kind of loyal commitment is the desire of every person of faith. However, this does not come easy. There is a great price involved in reaching such heights. This level of commitment is only achieved through fierce struggle.

• How can God be good when the godless prosper and the Godly suffer?

  Rich analyzes Asaph's Psalm 73.

  Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:25-26).

  What believer would not want to experience this deep devotion to God? Surely, this kind of loyal commitment is the desire of every person of faith. However, this does not come easy. There is a great price involved in reaching such heights. This level of commitment is only achieved through fierce struggle.

  Asaph, the psalmist who penned these words, came to this conclusion after a difficult and confusing crisis of faith. Asaph’s crisis of faith nearly resulted in apostasy. He was tempted to completely give up the faith. He is candid about his narrow escape:

  “But as for me, my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold” (Ps. 73:2).

  In retrospect, he realized that during his crisis he

  “was senseless and ignorant… a brute beast” before God (Ps. 73:22).

  Surprisingly, it was this near loss of faith that brought him to pen the words of deep devotion at the head of this article! What led to his crisis? Asaph had a hard time reconciling faith in God’s goodness with his surroundings.

  From his perspective, two things made it difficult to whole-heartedly affirm God’s absolute goodness: (1) the prosperity of the godless, and; (2) the suffering of the godly.

  How can God be good when the godless prosper and the godly suffer? The prosperity of the godless and the suffering of the godly caused Asaph to question whether faith mattered at all. For this reason he cried out,

  “In vain have I kept my heart pure” (Ps. 73:13). A crisis of faith fueled by his inability to harmonize his beliefs with his experience led him to frustration, bitterness, envy, and despair.

  Psalm 73 is a record of this experience – an experience that begins with deep questions about God’s goodness and ends with the affirmation of deep devotion,

  “As long as I have you, God, I wish for nothing else in heaven and earth” (Ps. 73:25).

  What was the turning point that renewed his perspective? What insight so radically changed his attitude? By studying this psalm we come to a greater understanding of how faith deepens through doubts, questions, frustrations – even envy. Indeed, without these fiery trials and temptations our faith will decline or disappear altogether.

  The Problem

  Asaph begins the psalm with the truth that brought him such difficulty:

  “Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart” (Ps. 73:1).

  This great truth, meant to bring great comfort, was, instead, the source of great frustration. This is not a unique problem. An argument could be made that this is the problem of the ages. The central question of human/divine relationship has never been, “Is there a God?” The majority of people throughout history, and the majority of people presently alive, believe in God. The issue is not the existence of God; the issue is whether the God who exists is truly good! Is God worthy of our praise, thanksgiving, loyalty, and commitment? Asaph questioned God’s goodness in light of the evidence before him. In spite of his intellectual assent to God’s absolute goodness, circumstances seemed to point to a different reality altogether. How could God be good when the godly suffer while the godless prosper? The prosperity of the godless was deeply troublesome to Asaph. He found himself envying their prosperity – prosperity that obviously had nothing to do with faithful loyalty to God.

  For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong. They are free from the burdens common to man; they are not plagued by human ills. (Ps. 73:3-5)

  Asaph lamented the charmed lives of those who possessed little or no interest in God. Their ease, wealth, comfort, good health, security, and indulgence in vain pleasures troubled him deeply. Their prosperity did not provoke gratitude; it inflated them with pride. Because of their success, masses of people sought their presence and sucked up their every word (see Ps. 73:6-10):

  Psalm 73:6 - Therefore pride is their necklace; they clothe themselves with violence. 7 From their callous hearts comes iniquity ; the evil conceits of their minds know no limits. 8 They scoff, and speak with malice; in their arrogance they threaten oppression. 9 Their mouths lay claim to heaven, and their tongues take possession of the earth. 10 Therefore their people turn to them and drink up waters in abundance.

  And yet, in the midst of such prosperity, the godless paid no heed to God’s divine claim upon their lives. They acted as if God was unaware, or worse, uninterested, in their activities. They forgot their relationship and responsibility to God – the very things the godly sought to keep foremost in their mind (see Ps. 73:11).

  Psalm 73:11 - They say, "How can God know? Does the Most High have knowledge?"

  Worst of all, in spite of their inattention to God, God seemed to reward them with “continual ease” and “increased wealth” while the godly suffered (Ps. 73:12):

  Psalm 73:12 - This is what the wicked are like— always carefree, they increase in wealth.

  . These circumstances made no sense to Asaph. He could not reconcile his belief in the absolute goodness of God with the prosperity of the godless and the suffering of the godly. His frustration with this caused him to cry out,

  Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure; in vain have I washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been plagued; I have been punished every morning. (Ps. 73:13-14)

  Asaph was afflicted with suffering while the wicked enjoyed the good things of life. What else could Asaph do but question the truth that

  “God is good to those who are pure in heart” (Ps. 73:1)?

  The evidence before him challenged this claim to its very core. Was divine goodness merely a sham? Were the wicked enjoying the only real goodness available? Does purity of heart and loyal devotion to God really matter when the wicked are rewarded and the righteous are left with nothing? In light of these twisted circumstances, does faith matter at all? Asaph’s dilemma continues in our day. Contemporary examples abound: (1) A single Christian remains lonely while her sexually-active friend experiences happiness with her boyfriend, ultimately choosing to live together with him; (2) An ambitious coworker who “doctors” reports to make himself look good receives an advancement while an honest man of integrity is laid off; (3) A husband has an affair with a younger woman and leaves his wife to fend for herself after she has given her best years to raising his children; (4) A wealthy celebrity escapes justice by hiring the best, brightest, and most expensive lawyers money can buy. As in Asaph’s day, the question remains to haunt us: Is God really good to those who are pure in heart? Or, is it vanity to believe in God’s absolute goodness and live like it matters? In a double explosion of emotion Asaph cries out,

  Psalm 73:13 - Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure; in vain have I washed my hands in innocence.

  He echoes the familiar phrase, “vanity of vanities.” He wonders whether faith is empty and meaningless, a mere illusion, possessing no more value or substance than chasing the wind.

  The Turning Point

  Asaph is left with a two-fold predicament. He cannot voice his frustrations for fear of harming the faithful. He clearly feels that he will betray the godly community if he publicly denies the goodness of God by declaring that all expressions of faithfulness are in vain

  Psalm 73:15 - If I had said, "I will speak thus," I would have betrayed your children.

  Subsequently, Asaph is forced to keep his frustrations to himself. His doubts descend into the depths of his being. They percolate in his psyche as he desperately seeks a solution to his problem. The more he thinks about it, the more insoluble it seems:

  “When I tried to understand this, it was oppressive to me” (Ps. 73:16).

  Try as he might, he is unable to reason his way out of his predicament. The combination of perplexity, bitterness, envy, and anger make it impossible to come to a satisfying conclusion. Unwilling to announce his complaints in public, and unable to come to a satisfying answer, Asaph does that which had become a normal part of his weekly routine – he enters the divine sanctuary of God for worship

  Ps. 73:17 - till I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny.

  He enters “the sphere of the powerful presence of God. The possibility of the Presence was the ministry and mystery of the sanctuary, the place where God chose to be for the pure in heart of Israel.”[1]

  This was the turning point!

  When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me till I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny. (Ps. 73:17)

  Here, in the sanctuary, participating in worship of God, Asaph is given divine insight. The words, the music, the rituals, and the preaching remind him anew of “the big picture.” He begins to see the prosperity of the wicked in the full light of divine revelation and divine presence. The “big picture” sheds light on all facets of human existence. Life looks different when viewed from the end. Asaph’s vision had been too narrow. He was seeing things from a secular perspective – from merely a small slice of time, rather than in light of God and eternity. From his new perspective, the ease, wealth, comfort, good health, and security of the godless were clearly temporary. In the long run, these things would not last. A life of sin is its own undoing. Evil contains the seeds of its own destruction. Asaph had no reason to envy the godless. Their very prosperity would contribute to their own downfall. The sure footing of their comforts was, in truth, a slippery and treacherous slope to ruin. In the end, their accomplishments would be seen in light of God’s divine glory, and they would be exposed as mere phantoms, illusions, fading vapors (see Ps. 73:18-20)

  Psalm 73:18 - Surely you place them on slippery ground; you cast them down to ruin. 19 How suddenly are they destroyed, completely swept away by terrors! 20 As a dream when one awakes, so when you arise, O Lord, you will despise them as fantasies.

  This revelation brought Asaph to full and complete confession. With a renewed mind and transformed perspective he recognizes how miserable he has acted.

  When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you. (Ps. 73:21-22)

  His confession leads to a new discovery of God’s goodness. In spite of his bitterness and unbelief, God was still faithful to him.

  Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. (Ps. 73:23-24)

  In spite of – indeed, in the midst of! – Asaph’s crisis of faith, God remained faithful. God proves his goodness in and through divine persistence. Though we may be “grieved,” “embittered,” “senseless,” “ignorant,” and “a brute beast” before God, nevertheless God always remains with us and for us – holding and guiding us even as we wrestle to escape his grasp. This is not true some of the time, or even most of the time; it is true all of the time:

  “I am always with you” (Ps. 73:23, emphasis mine).

  The divine and gracious presence of God – preserving, protecting, and guiding – is a continuous and unending reality. Its end is eternal glory! Asaph’s antidote to envy is his recognition that to possess God’s gracious presence is to possess all he really needs. This leads to his profound statement,

  “As long as I have you, I wish for nothing else in heaven and earth” (Ps. 73:25). He proves this in his most ambitious statement: My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Ps. 73:26)

  His life is built on a different foundation than the godless – the eternal foundation of God’s faithful love. No matter what comes his way he cannot lose that which is most precious to him, namely, God. In all his newfound devotion, Asaph never loses sight of the terrible reality of suffering. He singles out the worst possible case – the complete failure of flesh and heart – and states that even if he loses everything, God remains his ultimate support. He realizes that he is so closely united with God that he cannot possibly lose God. What then does it matter if other things come and go? In the process of gaining a new perspective, Asaph redefines goodness. Through his fight of faith, he concludes that God is his greatest good (Ps. 73:28).

  Psalm 73: 28 - But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.

  God is “the good” that is given to those who are pure of heart (Ps. 73:1).

  Psalm 73:1 - A psalm of Asaph. Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.

  Goodness is not defined by the prosperity the godless enjoy. Nor is divine goodness denied by the affliction of the righteous. Goodness is not earthly prosperity, but God himself. If this is the greatest good, then the ultimate misery is to be “far from God” (Ps. 73:27).

  Psalm 73:27 - 27 Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.

  Ultimate prosperity, therefore, is to be “near God” (Ps. 73: 28). This newfound emphasis allows him to speak publicly in the faith community again. Now, he has a testimony that is valuable to the faithful (Ps. 73:28b; cf. 73:15). He is now able to bear the sorrows of the godly and to look without envy – perhaps, even mercy (“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do”) – on the fleeting prosperity of the godless. With a renewed perspective, he is able to praise all God’s works.

  Concluding Thoughts

  Every believer longs to express the deep devotion of the latter half of this psalm. However, this kind of faith does not come easy. It involves a great fight. Many believers have treasured verses 23-26, and rightly so, but we must appreciate that they were not achieved by a deferential, docile, unquestioning faith but by a critical, reflective faith…

  Psalm 73:23-26 - 23 Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. 24 You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. 25 Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. 26 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

  Without the struggle and questioning of the first half, it is doubtful the second half would have ever been written.[2] It was a violent struggle for Asaph to achieve this. But at the end of his wrestlings with God, his faith was purified. His final resolution did not come by way of deliverance from troubling circumstances but from a new understanding of God.

  Faith that is worth possessing is faith that will be tested, purified, refined, and renewed. It will go through fiery trials. A faith that fails to do this is hardly worth possessing.

  Parker Palmer expresses this well: The deeper our faith, the more doubt we must endure; the deeper our hope, the more prone we are to despair; the deeper our love, the more pain its loss will bring: these are a few of the paradoxes we must hold as human beings. If we refuse to hold them in hopes of living without doubt, despair, and pain, we also find ourselves living without faith, hope, and love.[3]

  Asaph did not come to a renewed perspective on his own. He was unable to interpret his situation by himself. The turning point took place in the sanctuary of God in the corporate worship of the faithful. Asaph’s bitterness changed by joining God’s people in the sanctuary and being reminded of the “big picture” and God’s gracious presence. Asaph’s renewal underscores the importance of constant participation in worship, even when we don’t feel like it. Experiences of doubt, despair, frustration, bitterness, and questioning are not a good reason to neglect corporate worship. When we experience these things, we need the support, nurture, and nourishment of divine worship more than ever

  [1] James L. Mays, Psalms: Interpretation Series (Louisville, Kentucky: John Knox Press, 1994), 243.

  [2] Craig C. Broyles, Psalms: New International Biblical Commentary (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, 1999), 304.

  [3] Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2004), 82-83.

  © Richard J. Vincent, 2005

• A Groaning God in a Suffering World, Part I

  How does human suffering reflect upon God? Where is God in the tragedies and human suffering? How is God related to the endless flood of misery, heartache, and despair? Why does God allow these things to occur?

  Edvard Munch's most famous work, The Scream, continues to increase in popularity over a century after its creation. Considered one of the founders of Expressionism, Munch's artwork depicts a state of mind rather than an incident or a landscape. It was painted one year after an experience Munch recounts in an entry from his literary diary dated January 22, 1892.

  "I was walking along the road with two friends. The sun was setting. I felt a breath of melancholy - Suddenly the sky turned blood-red. I stopped, and leaned against the railing, deathly tired - looking out across the flaming clouds that hung like blood and a sword over the blue-black fjord and town. My friends walked on - I stood there, trembling with fear. And I sensed a great, infinite scream pass through nature."

  In the midst of the tremendous beauty of creation, Munch experienced a terrifying existential shock. He discovered a cause for great horror hidden within the splendor of nature. Nature can be beautiful and terrifying, peaceful and tragic, stable and chaotic, life-promoting and life-threatening. Munch's terrifying realization of nature's dark side - its "great, infinite scream" - and the emotional response it provoked have been forever captured in his classic painting. There is no escape from the truth: we live in a groaning, suffering world. To live is to occasionally suffer tragedy and to regularly suffer pain, grief, and discouragement.

  There is no shortage of examples of human tragedy. News sources bombard us with a steady stream of calamity and catastrophe. Shocking stories of unexpected suffering keep us mindful that we may soon be recipients rather than spectators of seemingly random forces of evil. Though we may escape tragedy for the moment, it will inevitably touch us. If we live long enough, we will eventually lose our health, our family, our friends, and life itself. Until these precious gifts are plucked from our possession, we will continue to experience the normal physical, mental, and emotional pains that comprise life in a groaning creation. How does all this suffering reflect upon God? Where is God in the tragedies and human suffering? How is God related to the endless flood of misery, heartache, and despair? Why does God allow these things to occur?

  The Problem of "The Presence of Evil" A "theodicy" seeks to justify God's active presence in a suffering world. It is a human attempt to explain God's purpose in allowing evil and suffering - the "problem of evil."

  One simple way to state the "problem of evil" is as follows: 1. If God is good, he would destroy evil. 2. If God is all-powerful, he could destroy evil. 3. But evil is not destroyed. 4. Hence, there is no God.

  The problem of evil capitalizes on the presence of evil within God's creation. How can God be both good and all-powerful and yet evil continue to exist? Since it is obvious that evil does exist, then God's existence -which is far less obvious - must be called into question. If God does exist at all, then God must not be good or all-powerful. Numerous attempts have been made to eliminate the problem of evil by weakening one of the propositions - either by denying God's goodness, limiting God's power, or denying the reality of evil. Some have argued that God is not good. Evil exists because an all-powerful God does not have the moral decency to use his powers for good. God is capricious, whimsical, and arbitrary in his dealings with humanity. He is not ultimately concerned with good or evil. He remains distant, aloof, remote, and unaffected by evil and suffering. He simply doesn't care about the human condition. It is not his problem. Others have argued that God is not all-powerful. God would like to eliminate evil but he simply cannot. The power of evil is too great for even God to overcome. Evil constantly thwarts God's intentions for humanity. This is the reason evil is so powerfully experienced. God wishes it otherwise, but even God cannot make his wish come true. Finally, others have concluded that the problem is not with God, but with our perception of reality. Evil is not real. We simply perceive things to be evil, but they are really just nature in action. Pain, grief, disease, and death are all normal. Human longings for something more are simply wishful flights of fancy fueled by religious lies and delusions.

  Evil can also be denied through religion. Mary Baker Eddy's Christian Science movement denies the reality of evil. Pantheistic monism, a philosophy that is the basis for most new age spiritualities, teaches that everything is one. Good and evil are, in reality, the same thing. One can deny the reality of evil, but it is much harder to deny the reality of pain. No matter how much we try to hide behind our philosophical systems and religious beliefs, the experience of pain jolts us back to reality. Pain exists, even if evil doesn't. Since pain is so undeniably real in this world, it is easier to deny God's existence then it is to deny the reality of evil. Evil seems so obviously real. God, however, doesn't. The presence of evil and the reality of pain call into question the existence of a good and powerful God. If God truly exists, then he must not be either good or powerful - or both.

  But what if the presence of evil is not in conflict with the goodness or power of God? What if God's goodness, God's omnipotence, and the reality of evil can be found to exist together? In other words, what if the three propositions of the problem of evil are not mutual exclusive or contradictory? Perhaps all three can be found to co-exist together.

  Is there an example of the co-existence of evil, God's goodness, and God's power? Although numerous examples could be given, the supreme example is the cross of Jesus Christ. At the cross, the reality of evil is fully manifested. Representatives from all humanity (described most broadly as Jew and Gentile) gather together to oppose God's Son. Though completely innocent, Jesus is betrayed, condemned, scourged, tortured, and murdered. The pure and undefiled Son of God encounters injustice from every angle, culminating in his death. A friend's abuse of trust, the state's abuse of justice, the church's abuse of religion, and humanity's abuse of humanity are all evidenced at the cross of Christ. Though evil so fully pervades the scene, God's sovereign power is evidenced. God does not cause the evil, it is brought forth by the free choices of immoral human beings. The evil remains utterly evil. Yet God in his great wisdom is able to use evil to accomplish his sovereign purpose of bringing salvation to all. At the very moment when it appears that God's purpose is fully frustrated by human evil, God's purpose is being fully accomplished (Acts 2:23; 4:27-28). In the midst of human suffering, God is at work bringing redemption. God's sovereignty is demonstrated, not in his control of every aspect of the crucifixion, but in his use of the whole event to bring about good. No evil, no matter how great, can thwart God's sovereign purpose. In bringing forth salvation from the midst of great evil, God's goodness is shown. God's love is demonstrated to all, including his enemies. God demonstrates how willing he is to go to every extreme to put things right. He is willing to bear the full weight of suffering and evil, resulting in his death!

  This is the first and greatest truth concerning God's saving work on the cross. There is a great mystery to God's purposes in this world. We cannot explain completely what God is doing. For this reason every attempt to justify God's ways in relation to suffering and evil always fall short of the mark. What we can demonstrate, however, is that the problem of the presence of evil in a world where a good and powerful God exists is not a problem. The presence of evil and the reality of God's goodness and omnipotence are not at odds. They can co-exist together. The cross is proof of this. Furthermore, the cross demonstrates that God has done something about evil at the cross. The reverberations of this act echo throughout the cosmos and will culminate in the complete restoration of the world (cf. Colossians 1:15-20).

  The Problem of "The Possibility of Evil" is a further problem related to sin and suffering. If God is all-knowing then God must have known prior to creation that humankind would fall into sin. God must have created all things with the full awareness of the possibility of sin, suffering, and evil. Why would God create with the full awareness of potential suffering? Couldn't God have done something to prevent this from happening? And if not, why create in the first place?

  James Emery White answers this question by comparing God's act of creation to his relationship with his teenage daughter: Some may say, "Well, if God knew how things would turn out, he should have never created us!" because everything from cancer to concentration camps isn't worth it. Yet when we blithely say such things, we betray how little we know of true love. Yes, the freedom to choose that God gave each of us has resulted in heartache and even tragedy. It is tempting to say that everyone - including God - would have been better off never having to endure it. But that's not the way love - real love, at least - works. To remember this, I need only reflect on one of the most defining realities in my life: my own role as a father. As I write these words, my oldest daughter is beginning her freshman year in high school. And because of this fact, all summer I've been a wreck. I thought sending her to her first birthday party was hard. She came home in tears because the birthday girl announced at the start of a game that "everyone can play but Rebecca." I thought leaving her at school for an entire day for the first time was hard. And then I learned that another child had purposefully tripped her on the playground. I thought that pulling out splinters, or holding her through the night when she had a fever, was hard. I thought that watching her experience the onset of puberty, and the painful awkwardness and insecurity of becoming a teenager, was hard. Now send your first child to high school, where she can wound and be wounded in ways that were unthinkable the day you first held her in your arms. Then you'll know hard. But let me - the one who loves her more than anyone, the one who would lay down his life for her in an instant - tell you what has never entered my mind: Never having her. Never bringing her into the world. Never going through life with her. Even though she can reject me and tear out by heart by hurting herself as well as others, if someone were to say, "Why do you even bother?" my only reply would be, "Because she is my daughter." And having known fathers who have endured far more anguish than I have, suffering through prodigal years, chronic illnesses, and even untimely death, I can say confidently that no matter the cost, the value of bringing our children into the world goes without question. [1]

  God desires a genuine loving relationship with the people he has created. Love, by definition, cannot overpower, manipulate, force, or control. Love liberates rather than enslaves. It is freely given and freely received or it is not love at all. Forced love is rape. The world we live in is certainly not the "best world" but it is the "best of all possible worlds" in regard to providing an environment where real love can flourish. God could have created a world where all human beings, like good pets, instinctively loved and followed his will without question. This would provide the illusion of a relationship but certainly not genuine love. God could have created a world where all human beings were programmed from the beginning to love him. But again, this would hardly be the kind of love we celebrate. Instead, it would be the cold, mechanical response of a robot. In short, God could have created in such a way that there would be no real risk of sin, suffering, and evil, but there would also be no real possibility of a genuine, loving, responsible, relationship.

  God took a risk when he created this world - a world with great potential for good or evil. The pinnacle of God's creation - the image-bearers named man and woman - held the key to whether good or evil would reign on this earth. Created free, they possessed the capacity to either love or reject God. There was no guarantee that the first humans would use their freedom to love God. Their capacity to grow in intimacy with God was matched by their capacity to degenerate into a pale shadow of their former selves through rejecting God. In order for there to be a potential for an authentic loving relationship brought about through freely received love, there also had to be the potential for rejecting God's love. Tragically, to reject God's love is to run from the only source of life, happiness, and security that exists in this world, thus bringing suffering, ruin, and death.

  [1] James Emery White, Embracing the Mysterious God: Loving the God We Don't Understand (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press), 27-28.

• A Groaning God in a Suffering World, Part II

  When considering the problem of evil and suffering, we must not simply speak of human suffering. We must also speak of divine suffering... God loves us passionately and lives with more pain from that love than we could ever imagine.

  Suffering involves more than the intellect. It invades the whole being. Theodicies supply answers that touch the intellect, but little more. They are limited in their ability to satisfy the soul. No matter how great one's explanation for the presence and possibility of sin and suffering, no answer is fully satisfying on the emotional or spiritual level. Even on an intellectual level, every theodicy leaves much to be desired.

  In the mystery of God's work in this world, we should not be surprised that God acts in ways that transcend human understanding. Job discovered this when God responded to Job's questions with more questions in order to demonstrate that Job could not possibly understand all the reasons why he suffered. It is difficult to find comfort in an intellectual argument, especially when one is in the throes of suffering. For this reason, the superficial but sincere answers people give in an attempt to alleviate our pain when we suffer leave us empty.

  Comfort comes best from a sympathetic presence, especially from a fellow sufferer. Comfort is even greater when the sufferer knows us intimately. God is that sympathetic presence in the life of the believer. God himself, in Christ and through the Spirit, is the Christian's comfort in the face of evil and suffering. God does not give us all the answers we need. We could not understand them if he did. Instead, God gives us himself, his loving presence - his suffering presence - for God experiences our sufferings on a much deeper level than we could ever imagine.

  For this reason, we need to rethink how we approach the problem of evil and suffering. Instead of constantly regarding it from the human vantage point we should attempt to understand it from God's vantage point. When we do this we confront one of the most neglected truths concerning the problem of suffering, namely, the suffering of God.

  Does God Suffer?

  Under the influence of Greek philosophy, the early church denied that God suffered. The early theologians labeled God as "impassible" - unable to feel, especially in regard to suffering. It was assumed that if God suffered, it would demonstrate God lacked something, and - according to the early church - this could not possibly be the case. In the last century, this assumption has been challenged. In my opinion, this has been a good thing.

  There are at least three reasons why I believe that God is not impassible but passable (susceptible to feeling, especially suffering).

  First, human beings are made in the image of God. We reflect God more than any other creature in the cosmos. As creatures we possess mind, will, and emotions. When these three faculties are united in righteousness and love, we are fully human - fully alive. In light of this, it would be absurd to think that God possesses only mind and will.

  Second, the Hebrew Bible is full of passages that indicate God's passionate feeling for this world and for people. Some theologians discount God's actual experience of emotion by interpreting the emotional descriptions attributed to God as "anthropopathisms" - ascriptions of human feelings not intended to accurately describe God's experience but merely intended to help us understand God. God doesn't really feel emotions, they argue, the expressions are simply used so we can have a human referent to guide us. But the emotional references do not discount God's genuine experience of emotion. Instead, they explain God's experience in a way we can grasp. God's actual experience is far greater than we can imagine, but it is certainly not any less. Anthropopathisms are used by biblical authors because God truly feels. Indeed, God feels more deeply than any human could ever conceive. From the beginning of time, God's deep feelings for his creation and humanity are revealed. When Adam sins, he tenderly pursues Adam by calling out, "Adam, where are you?" Before the judgment of the flood, we read "Then Yahweh saw the wickedness of man… and Yahweh was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and He was grieved in his heart" (Genesis 6:5-6). In Hosea, God pleads for his people: "How can I give you up… How can I surrender you, O Israel?... My heart is turned over within me, all my compassions are kindled" (Hosea 11:8). Passages could be multiplied that speak of God's deep feelings of love, joy, delight, sorrow, grief, and even anger in regard to his creation.

  Finally, God's ultimate revelation in the person of Christ indicates that God is a God who feels deeply. One of the predominant words regularly used to describe Jesus' emotional state is the word "compassion." Deep in his gut, Jesus experienced strong feelings of sympathy and tenderness toward suffering people. The climax of his ministry has been labeled by theologians as "The Passion" because of the intense suffering Christ experienced on behalf of others. Christ reveals a suffering God. Since Christ reveals the very heart of God for us, we can speak, not simply of the passion of Christ, but of the passion of God. Christ's passion reveals the suffering love at the heart of God. The Breadth and Depth of God's Suffering When considering the problem of evil and suffering, we must not simply speak of human suffering. We must also speak of divine suffering - God's passion - for us, with us, and in us. As we begin to grasp the breadth and depth of God's suffering we will come to find solace in the passionate love of God that embraces us all.

  The Breadth: From Creation to Consummation God's passion is demonstrated in his divine decision to create. God's suffering does not begin at the incarnation or at the cross, but at the opening moments of creation. God's choice to create is a choice to suffer - God's first movement of divine humiliation which finds its fullest expression in the incarnation and cross of Christ. For this reason, the Scriptures speak of "the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world" (Revelation 13:8; cf. Acts 2:23; 1 Peter 1:2). Suffering is a consequence of God's love and manifests God's commitment to his creation. Prior to the act of creation God assumed the reality of divine suffering for the sake of the world. God's free choice to create and to suffer as an expression of committed love is at the heart of the great difference between divine and human suffering. Unlike human suffering, which is necessary due to our own mortality, lack of completeness, or simply the consequence of our sin, God's suffering is completely an act of the divine will. God is wholly self-sufficient, lacking nothing. Before God created, in the eternal fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit, God experienced complete bliss, joy, perfect communion, and love. God did not need to create, but he chose to do so. God's choice to create carried with it the very real possibility of suffering. God did not need to commit himself to such self-sacrifice, but willingly chose to do so. In short, God does not need to suffer, but willingly chooses to suffer as a result of his commitment to his beloved world. It is God's great commitment to his creation that brings suffering. Amazingly, God chooses to make his well-being and joy contingent upon his creation. He does not need to do this, but desires to do it. His commitment to his creation is that great! This does not take away from God's fullness. God's choice to make his joy contingent upon his creation is a chosen limitation, not a necessary limitation. It is an act of love, not necessity. Before creation, God was "all in all." Nothing else existed except God. God's experience was nothing other than joy, delight, and love. In the act of creation, God "made space" for creation to exist and flourish. For the very first time, something other than God existed. God refused to force himself upon his creation, but instead chose to fill it through the act of love. The first humans would either willingly receive God's love or reject it. It would not be forced upon them, but would be freely given if freely received. Through their disobedience, our first parents rejected God's love and chose to follow their own way. In doing so, they stuck a dagger deep into the heart of God. For the very first time, God felt the pain of human rejection - an experience that would be multiplied countless times and continues to this day. Rather than return rejection with rejection, God immediately began to implement a redemptive plan designed to conquer human rebellion and draw humanity back to God. His plan would culminate in the self-giving sacrifice of the cross. God freely chose to commit himself to his creation with all the suffering it entailed. God is too good to abandon his creation. God would rather suffer than renege his commitment to this cosmos. For this reason, we can affirm that God chose to suffer the moment he chose to create. These two choices are inseparable. Neither was necessary. Both are grace.

  The Depth: With God's Whole Heart God never does anything half-heartedly. Therefore, when God suffers, God suffers with his whole heart. For this reason, God's suffering is more acute and intense than any other entity. Divine suffering is not only different from human suffering in the fact that it is freely chosen and entered into, it is also different in that divine suffering far exceeds human suffering in every way imaginable. In Romans 8:18-26, we read of a "symphony of sighs" - a triple-groaning. All creation groans in labor awaiting the new heavens and new earth. All the church, prompted by the Holy Spirit, groans for the full redemption that can only come about when we possess a resurrection body. Like his creation and his church, God groans within us. Amazingly, the Creator suffers, accepts, and carries the depths of human anguish within his very being. The Spirit plumbs the depths of our hearts, giving voice to our sighs in the Father's presence. This intense groaning is evidence of God's amazing love. God's desire to completely identify with his suffering church in a groaning creation reveals a passionate and sympathetic heart full of love. "God loves us passionately and lives with more pain from that love than we could ever imagine." [1]

  Unlike us, God faces suffering with full knowledge of all that is involved. His suffering is complete. We are exempt from much suffering through our own limitations. The blow is dulled by our ignorance which keeps us from knowing the full extent of what is involved in our suffering. We can deny suffering where God must completely face it. The greater the love, the deeper the suffering. God loves us so deeply and completely, the pain God must experience in light of our sin must be indescribably great. Imagine the pain that must arise from billions of people spurning a relationship with their Creator. Consider the pain that God must endure that arises from all the believers who grieve God's Spirit through continued unfaithfulness. There is no greater suffering than that which occurs when a relationship is rejected.

  In the parable of the prodigal son, the prodigal son suffers but he doesn't suffer the most. The father is the one who suffers the greatest pain. The pain begins the moment the son demands his share of the father's inheritance, an indirect way of wishing his father dead. The pain continues throughout the entire time the father anxiously awaits his son's return. Even though there is no guarantee that the son would ever come to his senses, the father's heart continues to passionately desire a restored relationship. The father's commitment to love the prodigal in spite of the suffering it entails is evidence that his heart burns with suffering love.

  God's suffering love is demonstrated most clearly at the cross. The cross as the height of human suffering reveals a God who is willing to go to any lengths to demonstrate his love for us. The theology of the cross... is first of all a statement about God, and what it says about God is not that God thinks humankind so wretched that it deserves death and hell, but that God thinks humankind and the whole creation so good, so beautiful, so precious in its intention and its potentiality, that its actualization, its fulfillment, its redemption is worth dying for. [2]

  It is amazing how Christians have made the cross symbolize how much God hates us and our sin, rather than how much God loves us! God desires our love so much that he will humble himself to the lowest place and expend himself completely in order to prove it. The Triumph of Divine Suffering The centrality of divine suffering should not seem odd to the church of Jesus Christ. The church regularly celebrates in her worship the triumph of the suffering love of God. Participation in the church's central ritual - the Lord's Supper - is a constant reminder that God has given us his very body and blood in Christ.

  Cross-centered preaching persistently announces to the world and all its fallen powers that the greatest power in the cosmos, the power that topples all powers, is the suffering love of God. The centrality of the cross as God's greatest act of redemption forces us to rethink our views of power. Certainly, God is all-powerful, but what is the chief expression of that power? Is it unbridled might, absolute control, complete manipulation? Or is it compassionate benevolent, sacrificial, self-denying love? God is revealed most clearly in the person and work of Christ. If this is the case (and it surely is), what can one profess about omnipotence from the perspective of the cross? What is power in light of the cross? God's ultimate display of power is the weakness of suffering love. It is the divine power that overthrows all other powers. All powers of evil, sin, and hell crumble before the power of suffering love. The crux of the cross is its revelation of the fact that the final power of God over man is derived from the self-imposed weakness of his love. [3]

  The weakness of love is the power of God - the ultimate reality at the heart of the universe, the very force that redeems the cosmos. When the Apostle Paul suffers a "thorn in the flesh" God refuses to remove it, but instead teaches Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9). This not only describes Paul, but also Paul's God. God's power - "my power" - is perfectly demonstrated in the weakness of surrendered suffering love.

  Conclusion

  Ultimately, we do not defend God's ways. Instead, we proclaim the suffering yet triumphant love of God in Christ. There are no truly satisfying answers to all the questions that arise from our experience of suffering and evil. No one of us can sufficiently answer the theodicy question, but no one of us can get rid of it either. As long as suffering and pain surround and invade our lives, we will be forced to grapple with the questions that suffering provokes. Although no final answers are completely satisfying, we can take comfort in the fact that we can trust God that all will be well in the end. It is easier to do this when we know that God's passion is for us. God is a groaning God who committed himself to the good of his creation long before he ever created.

  He demonstrated his self-denying love to us in the person of Christ, pouring out his heart and soul for us at the cross. He continues to reveal his compassion for us through his groaning Spirit at work in our lives. This same God who groans for us, with us, and in us will one day dry our tears in a restored cosmos (Revelation 21:3-4). Just as our pain is his pain, his joy will be our joy! And when this comes to pass, we will share in an eternal day that never ends, as we enter into the joy of our Master, forever delighting in the pleasure and passion of God.

  [1] James Emery White, Embracing the Mysterious God: Loving the God We Don't Understand (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press), 31. [2] Douglas John Hall, The Cross in Context: Jesus and the Suffering World (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress), 24. [3] Reinhold Neibuhr quoted from Douglas John Hall, The Cross in Context, 83.

  © Richard J. Vincent, 2003

• Hopeful Groaning

  It is the Spirit that prompts our groanings. Far from being a result of sin, our groanings are evidence that God’s Spirit is at work in our lives.

  The year was 1987. After spending almost seven years in a downward spiral of alcohol, sex, and drugs, I found great liberation in my newfound faith in Jesus Christ. By the grace of God the chains that once held me were broken. My existence was bathed in a divine light that gave new meaning to everything. My restlessness was replaced with peace, my despair with hope, my sorrow with joy. Never before had I experienced such satisfaction and contentment. I looked forward to a long rewarding life-journey with the God who loved me perfectly and completely in Christ. Never again would I know sorrow, despair, or frustration.

  Or so I thought... In the same year the Irish rock group, U2, experienced unprecedented success with their album, "The Joshua Tree." Three of the four members professed to be Christians. For this reason, spiritual themes were prominent throughout the album. One of the hit songs from this album, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," spoke of a man who had embraced the Christian faith but still remained unsatisfied.

  I believe in the Kingdom Come Then all the colours will bleed into one Bleed into one. But yes, I'm still running. You broke the bonds And you loosed the chains Carried the cross of my shame Oh my shame, you know I believe it. But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

  Though the singer spoke of a future hope propelled by a belief in God's kingdom and embraced the cross of Christ as the means of his personal redemption, the repeated chorus, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for," left me questioning the singer's true convictions.

  How could he possibly know the same loving Savior I had encountered? How could the glorious truths of the Christian faith leave him still searching for more? Was it possible that he simply had not experienced the same joy I experienced? Or was he expressing a truth that I, as a baby Christian, still could not grasp? As a new convert to the Christian faith I criticized this song. Now, 16 years later, I am convinced that U2 was right and I was wrong. I have found this out through experience confirmed by a deeper understanding of the sacred scriptures. The inner ache for something more is entirely compatible with the Christian faith and mature Christian experience. It certainly is possible to be a Christian and express such longings.

  A few simple self-examination questions will prove this to be true. If we have peace with God, why do we still so restless? If we have been given God's Spirit to indwell us, why do we often feel so empty? If we've been given divine understanding through the Scriptures, why do we still not quite understand what is really going on inside and around us? In short, if we currently possess every spiritual blessing in Christ, why do we still often feel so torn inside, so restless, empty, and confused? This longing for more, this awareness that something is missing, this sense of incompletion is understandable in light of the "symphony of sighs" that is found at the heart of Paul's Epistle to the Romans.

  In Romans 8:18-26, the apostle Paul speaks of three "groanings" - groanings that arise from around us, within us, and above us. These groanings are often neglected in light of the grand and wondrous themes that comprise the bulk of Romans 8. Nevertheless, the glorious realities of Romans 8 cannot be appreciated unless they are placed against the backdrop of these triple-groanings. Romans 8 is one of the most beloved chapters in the entire Bible, and for good reason. It begins and ends with great statements of the Christian's security in God's saving work in Christ. "There is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus" and "Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ" frame the chapter (Romans 8:1, 39). There is no condemnation because all the righteous requirements of God's law have been satisfied in Christ on our behalf (8:2-4). The Spirit communicates this blessing to us. Furthermore, the Spirit leads us in a new way of life, helping us to fight personal sin, and teaching us to approach God as our "Abba" (8:5-17).

  Because of God's work in our lives, we can be confident that God is for us and not against us (8:31-34). Nothing we encounter in this life can thwart God's purpose in our lives (8:35-39). This is all tremendous news! Yet ensconced in the middle of these great spiritual blessings, Paul elaborates on the context in which we participate in these realities (a groaning creation), the response we subsequently experience (groaning within ourselves), and God's place in our sufferings (groaning on our behalf). In short, creation, Christians, and God all groan together in one grand "symphony of sighs."

  Groaning is a deep, inarticulate sound that expresses pain, grief, or sorrow. Groaning expresses frustration mixed with sorrow due to the lack of possessing something one desires. To groan is to sigh with frustration prompted by a longing for something more. Putting this inarticulate sound into poetry could very well sound like, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

  According to Paul, we live in a time of tension: For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. (Romans 8:18) Our current experience is one of "present suffering." Our destiny is that of "future glory." This present suffering produces sighs of frustration, groanings. Our hope of future glory gives us great hope which prompts patient waiting and steadfast endurance in the midst of our groanings. This situation produces in us a complex response of groaning and waiting, frustration and longing. We groan because we "still haven't found what we're looking for." We continue to press forward in our search because we are confident that there is a greater glory in our future, just over the horizon. As many have noted, to live is to suffer. It is impossible to escape suffering in this life. We all experience physical, mental, and emotional suffering over the course of our lives. In order to make sense of suffering, it must be viewed in the larger context of God's purposes for this world. In other words, suffering must be understood in a larger context than our own personal lives.

  Though this world groans, suffering is never the final world. Because of the resurrection of Jesus, life - not death - is the final word; glory and not emptiness awaits us in the future. Until this glory is fully manifested, we groan. Because this glory will arrive, we anxiously await it with patient endurance. This simultaneous experience of groaning and expectation is at the heart of Romans 8:18-26. The stage on which the drama of our lives is played out is God's good creation. Our ultimate redemption - the gift of a resurrection body - is inextricably interlinked with the ultimate redemption of all creation. In other words, humanity's destiny and the destiny of this world are linked together.

  When humankind fell in Adam, all creation suffered. When humankind is completely restored through the second Adam, Jesus, then all creation will be restored to its original wholeness. For this reason, Paul personifies creation by attributing human characteristics to inanimate matter and pictures it as waiting on tiptoe for this final rebirth. "For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God" (Romans 8:19). Creation "anxiously longs" and "waits eagerly for" the moment that will trigger her final liberation: "the revealing of the sons of God" (8:19). Creation waits longingly because it desires to be "set free from its slavery to corruption" (8:21). Creation is "frustrated," longing for completion. Its frustration is not self-chosen ("not of its own will"), but is a consequence of Adam's sin. Because humankind's destiny is linked with the earth's destiny, Adam's sin brought suffering, corruption, pain, and death to this world. The fabric of creation was shackled with thorns, thistles, and weeds which choke rather than sustain life. The good news is that Adam's sin has been countered by the obedience of Christ (Romans 5). Christ's salvation brings forth a new humanity who "walk in newness of life" through union with Christ and life in the Spirit (6:4). Christ's saving work makes us sons through his Spirit, heirs of the world (8:15-17). Through his faithful obedience, Christ restores all that Adam ruined - not only humans, but all creation as well.

  The restoration of all creation is largely ignored by the contemporary church. This happens for two reasons - both a result of a truncated gospel message. First, our gospel message usually focuses on asking people whether they would like to go to heaven or hell when they die (an obvious question if ever there was one). By focusing on salvation as participation in an ethereal heavenly plane somewhere in the far-flung future we ignore the fact that heaven is not the goal of God's plan for humankind. God's plan is not that we would exist in heaven one day, but that we would dwell forever in glorified resurrected bodies in the new heavens and earth. Second, we emphasize "personal" salvation rather than seeking to understand our own personal salvation in light of a much larger redemptive work God is accomplishing - the restoration of the cosmos! Creation eagerly awaits its complete transformation. Not annihilation, but restoration is God's goal for creation (cf. Matthew 19:28 and Acts 3:21). The great rebirth of creation will conclude with the final redemption of humankind. For the Jewish mind, it is inconceivable for God's redemption to exclude creation for God never abandons what he creates. Until the final exodus, creation "groans and suffers the pains of childbirth" (Romans 8:23). These groanings are not death-pangs, but birth-pangs. A mother's groaning stems, not from her demise, but from the new life that grows in her womb. The groans intensify as this new life presses forward. These groans are not groans of despair, futility, or anxiety. They certainly express frustration, but with the hope of something greater on the horizon. This groaning creation is the context for our personal groanings: "We ourselves groan within ourselves" (8:23). This deep sense of frustration that arises from within is not a product of sin, but a consequence of our possession of God's Spirit. Because we "have the first fruits of the Spirit" we groan with pain, sorrow, and displeasure. It is the Spirit that prompts our groanings. Far from being a result of sin, our groanings are evidence that God's Spirit is at work in our lives. Perhaps we would not expect God's Spirit to produce sighs of frustration and longing aches for more, but this is exactly what the Spirit does in our lives in a groaning creation. Like the groans of creation, our groans are not groans of despair, futility, or anxiety. They certainly express frustration, but with the hope of something greater on the horizon.

  Although we groan, we also "wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body" (8:23). Much of Paul's theology can only be understood in light of tension. For example, we possess the "first fruits of the Spirit." In an agrarian society, the first fruits of a harvest were a guarantee of a rich harvest to come. In the same way, we possess the Spirit, a guarantee of richer deeper experience to come. The Spirit is the link between the "already/not yet" tension we experience. Though we "have received a spirit of adoption as sons" (8:15) we still await "our adoption as sons" (8:23). Though "our body is dead because of sin" (8:10), the Spirit who indwells us will "give life to our mortal bodies" (8:11). The ultimate expression of this gift of life is the gift of the resurrection body - the full redemption of our body (8:23). The resurrection body is a glorious body, fashioned in the likeness of Jesus' glorified humanity, no longer subject to weakness, sickness, sin or death (1 Cor. 15:54; 2 Cor. 5:1-5; Phil. 3:21; 1 John 3:2). When we possess this body, our salvation will be complete. Like the restored creation, the resurrection body is largely ignored by contemporary Christianity.

  When an ethereal heaven is preached, there is little need for a concrete, tangible body. However, if the end of all things is a new restored earth, then it only makes sense that a restored humanity would consist not only of perfected spirits but perfected embodied spirits. In short, God's goal is not for humanity to exist as spirits in heaven, but as glorified embodied beings on a new earth. Until this time we groan, experiencing frustration as a result of our moral and physical infirmities. Only the possession of a resurrection body will complete our deliverance from corruption, mortality, and sin. We groan - not with death-pangs, but birth-pangs. New life resides within us through the indwelling Spirit, new life that will burst into existence one day, triggering the restoration of the entire cosmos! For now, this reality is hidden. We simply do not see the resurrection life waiting to burst forth in embodied holiness. Yet our trust in Christ's resurrection, God's plan to restore all things, and the Spirit's indwelling impels us to press forward. It is this hope that is described in Romans 8:24-25. This hope drives us to "wait eagerly with perseverance."

  Until the consummation of all things, we remain "weak" (8:26). Furthermore, in spite of all the light we have been given, we still remain largely in the dark. We still don't understand enough to pray adequately (8:26). It is not the form of prayer that is beyond our grasp but the content. We simply don't know what to pray for in all situations. Furthermore, even if we did, there are no adequate words to express the sense of frustration and longing for redemption that we all experience. This is why we groan. God is not upset by our weakness and ignorance. Instead of spurning us, God helps us at the point of our greatest weakness. Unbelievably, the Spirit enters into the very heart of our frustrations by voicing our groanings to God the Father. God, through the Spirit, groans with us, in us, and for us!

  Where is God in a groaning creation? He is present in the sighs of frustration, pain, grief, and sorrow that pervade his groaning church. God is groaning in labor along with his creation and his church. God displays his compassion by sharing our sufferings, taking them upon himself, bearing them. This is good news indeed! A groaning God is a caring God. Far from remaining aloof, cold, and distant, God draws close - into our very hearts - and groans with us. God's prayer for us, through the Spirit, is for our complete transformation. Since the Spirit knows the very heart of God, he knows exactly how to intercede for us. Everything we go through will be used in shaping us into the image of Christ (8:27-28). "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" truly expresses the hopeful groaning of a suffering church. A groaning church in the midst of a groaning world is a product of the groaning God through his groaning Spirit. Paul's perspective is completely realistic, corresponding to our experience in the world and with ourselves.

  Paul offers no triumphalistic view of Christian experience. The Christian life includes grief and groanings as well as expectant longing and hopeful anticipation. It is more like experiencing the pains of labor than anything else. The pain is great, but the payoff makes all the pain worth it. "The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (8:23). "Can the gospel include the reality of tragedy in its provisions for human life?... I believe an adequate gospel will include in its provisions all people who know the reality of tragedy… But the gospel and a totally tragic view of the world are incompatible… The Christian faith has no room for accepting tragedy as a permanent resident in God's creation. Tragedy has a limited life span." (Al Truesdale, When You Can't Pray: Finding Hope When You're Not Experiencing God, p. 66)

  We groan, but not in vain. The promise of future glory spurs us forward while simultaneously creating a deep frustration with our present existence. We still haven't found what we're looking for, but we commit to keep looking, for one day we will find what our heart most deeply desires. Only then will the inner ache that something is missing be removed. Our desire for something more will be satisfied. Our sense of incompletion will be dropped as we receive the gift of a resurrected body in a restored cosmos truly liberated from bondage to sin, suffering, despair, and death. Our groans are not expressions of doubt, despair, or anxiety. They are hopeful groans spurred by faith in Christ's resurrection and hope in God's promise of a new heavens and earth. The Spirit within us provokes rather than discourages these groans, for they reveal a heart longing for "the something more" that awaits God's people.

  © Richard J. Vincent, 2003

• On the eternal condition of babies who die or are aborted......

  Question: Greetings Rich!! What is your stand on the eternal condition of babies who die in infancy or are aborted? I know that many evangelicals adhere to the "age of accountability" in which all children who die before they can recognize they are sinners will go to Heaven. However, I find no reference to this theory in Scripture, and I believe that it's one of those beliefs that man has come up with to comfort grieving parents. On the flip side, I do think that it is possible that God has predestined those who die in infancy to salvation. What are your thoughts? Take care, B__________

  My Answer: Hi B_________,

  To be honest, I remain in the dark concerning the eternal condition of babies who die in infancy. You can follow a logical argument based on anthropology and say that they are all damned because of their sin nature and their inability to receive Christ. Or you could follow a logical argument based on God's justice and state that since God's judgment is always according to works (every passage on judgment teaches this), babies have not had the chance to express the sinfulness or rebellion in a moral way that merits condemnation.

  You also have to take into account that there is something unique about believer's babies (see 1 Cor. 7:14 or so).

  Finally, you have to take into account that John the Baptist was regenerate before birth (Luke 1:15). As a Calvinist (I appeal to this only because of your leanings in this area -- I am not a Calvinist!), you can easily see that if God is sovereign over regeneration and regeneration precedes faith, then God could easily regenerate a baby and we wouldn't know it for all outward extents and purposes!

  Anyway, when it comes to comforting grieving parents (and I've had to do it), I comfort them with the fact that the God of all justice will deal justly with their situation and that the God of all comfort is there to comfort them through their difficulties.

  If pressed into the corner, I wouldn't mind suggesting to them that they will see their infant one day. And I would be in good company to do so.

  Spurgeon believed that heaven would be filled to the rim with people because of all the infants and children who had died and gone to heaven.

  B. B. Warfield believed the same, as have other good theologians.

  I don't think this is a matter of capitulating to parent's felt-needs, as much as it is a belief that grace and mercy triumph over justice -- especially in the case of tragic circumstances.

  I have two books in my office which I still haven't read, but you're welcome to borrow them if you are still interested in the topic. One is by Sinclair Ferguson. They both deal with this topic at length. Hope I haven't confused the issue even more.

  Don't be discouraged if I have however. The more I understand the Bible, the more questions I have, not less!

  Thankfully, God calls us to trust, not to figure everything out! Your brother in Christ, Rich

  © Richard J. Vincent, January 3, 2000

• Thy Will Be Done..... The Will of God as a Way of Life Rich Vincent

  A detailed sermon on a critical topic.

  A Clash of Wills

  A personal God is an offense to most people. Why? It is relatively easy to acknowledge a God who smiles down upon all we do with little interference in our lives. This kind of God is personal, but only in the most superficial sense of the word. However, a God who has a definite will, purpose, and plan, and calls us to align our wills with his will is not so readily accepted. It is this aspect of God that is the most offensive feature of a personal God – especially to those who want nothing to do with God’s will. We cannot truly encounter this God – a personal God with a personal will – unless we are willing to be changed.

  The first kind of God – the God who smiles down upon all we do from a safe distance – is, in reality, an apathetic God. He cannot truly be good. He has no real interest in who we are, what we do, and why we do what we do. What would we think of parents who treat their children this way? Parents who had no interest in their children’s choices, character, motivations, and direction in life would be labeled negligent, apathetic, unfit, and unloving.

  God, the perfect parent, is intensely interested in our choices. The God of the Bible has a purpose that he seeks to accomplish in his creation. Put simply, God has a will. Certain behaviors, attitudes, and intentions align with his will. Others do not. The execution and accomplishment of God’s will brings God pleasure. Apathy and outright resistance to God’s will brings God disappointment and displeasure. God wants us to do what pleases him – for his sake, for our sake, and for the world’s sake. By desiring this, God is doing what any good parent does. God is interested in our choices and is pleased when we do what is wise, good, and loving in his ordered and purposeful creation. When we say that we believe in a personal God, we are declaring that God has a will that he is accomplishing, and that he desires us to align ourselves with his will for our good and for his glory.

  The best measure of faith in a personal God is to want what God wants. It is this petition – “Thy will be done” – that “is the ultimate yardstick of faith, the measure by which one can discern, in oneself first of all, profound from superficial faith, profound religiosity from a false one.”[1] The challenge of practicing God’s will is that we rarely want to do so. Observance of God’s will conflicts with our innate selfishness, our desire for control, and our tendency to distrust God. God’s will forces us to ask ourselves what we really want in life. It challenges us to consider whom we really serve.

  Jesus knew of this conflict. For this reason, he taught us to daily pray, “Thy will be done.” We must regularly pray that our will would align with God’s will – our wants with God’s wants, our purpose with God’s purpose. If we do not keep this ever before us, our natural tendency is to go our own way rather than God’s way.

  Perspectives on God’s Will

  In order to practice God’s will we must possess knowledge of it. What is the first thing you think of when you hear the phrase, “the will of God”?

  Some hear this phrase in a very individualistic way. The will of God is primarily perceived as “the will of God for me.” It is assumed that God’s will revolves around “me and my interests.”[2] When God’s will is understood in this manner, the goal of practicing God’s will is self-improvement, individual fulfillment, and personal happiness.

  Others hear this phrase in a fatalistic fashion. God’s will is understood to be an arbitrary fate to which we must resign ourselves. “What will be, will be,” regardless of anything we do. We have no choice in the matter. We are merely pawns on the divine chessboard with a predetermined outcome. When God’s will is understood in this manner, the goal of practicing God’s will is stoic acceptance. We don’t have to “want it” or even “like it.” Our duty is simply to resign ourselves to whatever “will be.”

  Others view God’s will as something that only matters for the “big decisions” in life. The will of God is primarily about seeking the answers to the big questions in life: “Where should I live?” “Who should I marry?” “When should I change jobs?” It is assumed that God is only marginally concerned about the bulk of our lives that consists of the simple routines of daily living. When God’s will is understood in this manner, the goal of practicing God’s will is to be wise enough to discover it in order to keep from making major mistakes in the big decisions of life. The rest of life – indeed, the bulk of life – is exempt from the struggle of “discovering” God’s will.

  Though there may be morsels of truth in the perspectives above, none of these ways of understanding God’s will gets to the heart of the matter. God’s will is not primarily about individual fulfillment, stoic resignation to fate, or uncovering clues concerning major life decisions. God’s will is much more pervasive and practical. God’s will is intended to inform and shape our entire life. God’s will has to do with the kind of person God wants us to be – with our character formation. When God’s will is understood in this manner, the goal of practicing God’s will is christlikeness in all things.

  The Will of God is Not…

  When God’s will is viewed in this light, the weaknesses of the first three perspectives are exposed. We are in a better position to clearly state what the will of God is not.

  The will of God is not primarily individualistic.

  God’s will is God’s purpose for all creation, and not simply for individuals within God’s creation. God’s will is global, universal, and all-encompassing.[3] The will of God has to do with God’s grand and cosmic plan to redeem, renew, and restore all creation to glorious perfection (Eph. 1:10; Col. 1:20; Matt. 19:28; Acts 3:21; Romans 8:21-22; 1 Peter 3:13; 1 Cor. 15:28; Rev. 21:1-4). Through Christ Jesus and by the Spirit, God is removing all things that would get in the way of his purpose for this world. God has given his people insight into the mystery of his divine plan (Eph. 1:9-10; 3:4-11). It is this mystery – this “open secret” – that we possess in Christ and are called to share with the entire world. It is our privilege to know God’s will by God’s grace; it is our responsibility to share God’s “open secret” with all people.

  All things are being made new in Christ! God’s kingdom has come and is coming. Since God’s kingdom has been established in Christ, we now, in the Spirit, await the glorious consummation. Jesus’ victory is complete and, thus, cannot be stopped or thwarted. All the evil powers of this world – sin, evil, violence, demonic forces, and even death – have been disarmed. They can do nothing to undermine Jesus’ triumph (Romans 8:37-39). Now, all things in heaven and earth are being brought under the headship of Christ. Since the glorious end of all these things is certain, it only makes sense to align our wills with these redemptive realities in the present. In this way, God’s universal will of cosmic redemption is the basis for our individual response. We must align ourselves with God’s will, for only God’s will will triumph in the end.

  The will of God is not stoic or fatalistic resignation.

  In light of God’s universal will, we might conclude that since God is going to do what he wants anyway, we had better just grit our teeth and accept it. This is an unwarranted deduction. God does not want us to dispassionately accept God’s will. God, like a good parent, wants us to desire God’s will. God does not want fatalistic resignation, but passionate participation.

  Certainly, God’s purpose will be accomplished. God is God after all. Jesus has secured this victory through his death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. But this is not the issue; it is our participation in God’s will that is the issue. It is not stoic acceptance of God’s will, but active participation in God’s will that God desires.

  In this present time between the establishment and consummation of God’s kingdom, things are not as they ultimately will be. We admit this when we pray, “Thy will be done.” We acknowledge that God’s will is not always freely accepted in this world. In spite of the establishment of God’s kingdom, God’s will continues to be opposed. Not everyone is interested in participating in God’s kingdom purpose. When we pray that God’s will be “done on earth, as it is in heaven” we are asking that God’s will would be willingly done in this world as it is joyously and freely accomplished in heaven.

  The will of God is not a crystal ball foretelling the future.

  Many people act as if God’s will for them is a deeply guarded secret that is only discovered with great difficulty. God’s will is like a maze with only one way out. Every other way is a dead end. The right series of choices brings blessedness, happiness, and success. One wrong choice results in missing God’s will altogether. Doing God’s will involves an unbroken string of right choices. It only takes one wrong choice – one wrong turn in the maze – to halt the whole process. Every choice, especially those having to do with major life transitions, is undertaken with great anxiety and fear.

  Although there is a future dimension to God’s will,[4] it is certainly not the most important dimension when it comes to practicing God’s will. Indeed, this dimension receives little attention in the Bible. Biblically speaking, the will of God is not primarily about the future; it is about the present! Practicing the will of God is not about discovering a cleverly hidden secret, but living what has been revealed.

  This is the conclusion of pastor Gerald Sittser in his book, The Will of God as a Way of life: “I discovered that the Bible says very little about the will of God as a future pathway that we must discover and then follow. Instead, the Bible warns us about anxiety and presumption concerning the future, assures us that God is in control, and commands us to do the will of God we already know in the present.” [5]

  The Will of God as a Way of Life

  Instead of understanding God’s will as stoic resignation to fate or as something only relevant to the big decisions in life, Sittser calls us to something much more practical and all-embracing. By focusing on the future, we fail to live God’s will in the present. Our search for God’s will in the big concerns of life causes us to fail to live God’s will in the small things – which, if we are honest, is the subject matter of the bulk of our lives! Sittser challenges us to reverse our thinking concerning God’s will: “Perhaps our attention to these little things is the will of God, and our preoccupation with the future a foolish distraction.”[6]

  The tumultuous five-year dating debacle of my good friend, Bill, exemplifies how a distorted perspective of God’s will can wreak havoc. Bill understood God’s will to refer primarily to the future big decisions of life. After dating Jill for a few months, the future big decision of whether to marry her or not was foremost in his mind. For five years he agonized over whether Jill was the right girl for him. Bob and I spent countless hours working together through this decision and examining every possible twist and turn his relationship with Jill could take. He broke up with her numerous times during this period. For five years, Jill suffered rejection and emotional mistreatment from Bill. Meanwhile, Bill’s job suffered as did his personal ministry to others. His self-absorption caused him to hurt others, to be unpleasant and anxious, and to fail to live up to his daily responsibilities. Bill did all this in the name of seeking God’s will for his life! He allowed his future aspirations to do God’s will to be an excuse for ignoring God’s will in the present.

  If searching for God’s will concerning the future big decisions in our lives keeps us from living God’s will in our present daily routines, then we completely negate what it means to practice God’s will in the first place. Instead of leading us to a future-oriented, big-issue view of God’s will, Jesus calls us to a completely different emphasis. Anxiety about the future is not God’s will for us in the present. And yet, this kind of anxiety is common to those who hold to the crystal-ball, or mouse-in-the-maze view of God’s will. Instead of anxiety about the future, Jesus calls us to establish right priorities and put first things first (Matt. 6:25-34). In other words, we are to view the will of God as a way of life.

  When we approach the will of God as a way of life, we live for God right where we are. We recognize that a concern for God’s will is not primarily about big events or future decisions. We discover that God’s will is about life in the present – the big and the little events. Therefore, it our wisdom to be “attentive and responsive to God along the way, even in matters that appear to have little significance.”[7] By expanding our view of God’s will, we recognize how God’s love is the basis for all our lives. “What a shamefully small view of God’s love! Can God’s dreams for us really be limited to a few moments in life – isolated decisions and major transition points? Is God really irrelevant to our experience of daily existence, to the rhythms of our daily life?”[8]

  God’s will as a way of life opens us to greater possibilities in spiritual formation. It is not the big decisions in life that shape us most, but the accumulated power of many small decisions practiced routinely:

  For example, we think long and hard when we choose a college, a job or career, or a spouse. This makes good sense, considering how consequential these choices are. But we give little thought to how much TV we watch or how often we talk on the phone or how seldom we praise our children. Yet the little choices we make every day often have a cumulative effect far exceeding the significance of the big choices we occasionally make about the future.[9]

  God’s Revealed Will

  God’s will is plainly revealed in the sacred Scriptures. God’s plan to redeem, renew, and restore all creation in Christ and through the Spirit is the universal expression of God’s will. Every commandment God gives is an expression of God’s will on a personal scale. More often than not, our problem is not discovering God’s will, but actually practicing it in our daily lives.

  In order to limit ourselves, we will simply look at the handful of New Testament passages which plainly state God’s will in order to get a sense of the kind of person God wants us to be. If we simply set our minds to embody these commands every time we pray “Thy will be done” we will have a lifetime of work ahead of us. It is God’s will that

  We live sexually pure lives: “For this is the will of God, your sanctification; that is, that you abstain from sexual immorality” (1 Thess. 4:3). A crucial part of sanctification is growth in sexual self-control. Lust objectifies and uses people for one’s own purposes. Love honors and respects others and builds them up, regardless of the personal benefits (or lack thereof) to ourselves.

  We are peaceful, sensitive, good, joyful, prayerful, grateful people: “But we request of you, brothers and sisters, that you appreciate those who diligently labor among you, and have charge over you in the Lord and give you instruction, and that you esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Live in peace with one another. And we urge you, brothers and sisters, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with all people. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all men. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thess. 5:12-18). Joyful love expressed to leaders, fellow believers in all manner of personal situations, and all people is God’s will for the believing community.

  We willingly submit to authority: “Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and the praise of those who do right. For such is the will of God that by doing right you may silence the ignorance of foolish people” (1 Peter 2:13-15). This holds true for human government in general, and not just government that we prefer. Peter wrote this during the time that Nero ruled – hardly a paragon of virtue!

  We practice suffering love: “For it is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong… Therefore, let those also who suffer according to the will of God entrust their souls to a faithful Creator in doing what is right” (1 Peter 3:17; 4:19). This is cruciform, suffering love – love that refuses to withhold love simply because it is not being returned.[10]

  Understanding God’s will in this manner may not help with every decision of life (for this, we need a biblical view of discernment), but regardless of our choices, we will become the kind of people God wants us to be: pure, spiritual, grateful, humble, peaceful, hopeful, and loving! We will be kingdom people in a fallen world.

  Conclusion

  We must make the will of God a way of life. We must willingly choose to live God’s will where we presently are, and not excuse ourselves from it because of where we would like to be. This prevents us from using God’s will as an excuse for self-absorption. “Too many of us conclude in the face of difficulty and suffering that we must have made a choice outside the will of God. Then we spend the rest of our lives wishing that we had chosen differently. Ironically, we waste the opportunity we do have, however severe our circumstances, to do God’s will right where we are and to build our relationship with him.”[11]

  Our difficulty is not in discovering the will of God but in doing it.[12] Gerald Sittser puts it starkly: “the weightiest choice we make [and we make it every day] is never between two future options… but between two ways of life, one for God, the other against God.”[13] We either live to please God – live God’s way – or to please selfish interests!

  Jesus is our pattern. Doing God’s will was food for his soul: “My food is to do the will of Him who sent me, and to accomplish His work” (John 4:34). He plainly stated, “I do not seek my own will, but the will of Him who sent me” (John 5:30; cf. 6:38-40). When we live as Jesus lived – for the will of God – then we experience a kinship with Jesus.[14] We share the same passion, the same heart, the same mission, for we serve the same purpose – the manifestation of the kingdom of God by living God’s will. Right here. Right now. In big decisions. But mostly in the small ones that make up the bulk of our daily lives.

  [1] Schmemann, Alexander, Our Father (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2003), 46.

  [2] “What do we together and individually really desire from Christ? Let's admit it - the fulfillment of our will. We desire that God would assure our happiness. We want him to defeat our enemies. We want him to realize our dreams and that he would consider us kind and good. And when God fails to do our will we are frustrated and upset, and are ready over and over to forsake and deny him.” Schmemann, Our Father, 48-49.

  [3] “God’s will cannot be separated from God’s kingdom. Establishing the divine reign of love on earth is God’s big plan.” Benner, David, Desiring God’s Will: Aligning Our Hearts with the Heart of God (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2005), 39.

  [4] Romans 15:32; James 4:15.

  [5] Sittser, Gerald L., The Will of God as a Way of Life: Finding and Following the Will of God (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2000), 16.

  [6] Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 14.

  [7] Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 14.

  [8] Benner, Desiring God’s Will, 59.

  [9] Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 18.

  [10] “True Christian love is not just a feeling or a pleasant disposition of the soul. It is a self-sacrificing, ceaseless, life-long act of heroism unto death. It is fiery yet dispassionate, not dependent on anything, not on being loved in return or having a kinship of blood. One no longer thinks of receiving something for oneself. One can be spat upon and reviled, and yet in this suffering there is such a deep, profound peace that one finds it impossible to return to the lifeless state one was in before the suffering. One blesses life and all that is around one, and this blessing becomes universal. Such love can only come from God. This is the only love that Christ is truly interested in the love He came to earth to show and teach humanity. With this love He gave up His Spirit on the Cross.” (Monk Damascene)

  [11] Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 21.

  [12] “If we sense any agony in the heroes of Scripture, it is not in discovering the will of God but in doing it.” Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 29,

  [13] Sittser, The Will of God as a Way of Life, 34.

  [14] Matthew 7:21; 12:50; 21:31; Mark 3:35; Luke 12:47; John 7:17; 1 John 2:17.

  © Richard J. Vincent, 2005