Atonement and the Problem of Evil
Of course, there are several paths of inquiry concerning the Atonement that one can explore: Could God (if He had chosen to do so) simply have forgiven our sins without Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross? If so, why did He not? Of what exactly are we being forgiven? These are thorny questions, and I hope to formalize answers to them someday. For now, though, I would like to explore one reason I believe that God chose to effect our salvation through the blood and body of His only begotten Son.
Perhaps the most famous and serious philosophical objection to Christianity (and monotheism in general) is the problem of evil. Epicurus summarized it well:
“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?”
My purpose here is not to outline a complete theodicy, but simply to highlight one connection I see between the Atonement and the problem of evil.
"By his wounds we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5b).
It seems that it would behoove God to provide some sort of theodicy – some account of why He created a world in which so much evil and suffering exist. But God’s purpose for mankind extends far beyond proving to philosophers of religion that the argument from evil does not successfully disprove His existence. No, in the face of war and plague, God – like a reckless lover – has boldly sought to convince us of His love for us. And He has chosen as His coup de grâce none other than Jesus Christ: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).
At first glance, it seems incredible. God loves us? What about the Holocaust, or slavery, or Darfur? How is God to explain Himself? How can it all be “worth it”?
Imagine, for a moment, that Jesus had not died on the cross and that God has simply waved a wand and pronounced our sins forgiven. At Judgment Day, God (presumably seated upon a luxurious throne) proceeds to explain why He chose to allow us to undergo so much suffering. At the end of His speech, God says, “This is how you know what love is: I forgave you and limited your suffering to that which was necessary.”
See anything wrong with that picture? It depicts an aloof God, impervious to the trials and tribulations of this world, a God who lectures on the merits of suffering He Himself has never endured. It reduces love – and the redemption of all creation – to the clemency of a somewhat stern sovereign. Perhaps most damning (as it were), it makes for a relatively uninteresting story.
Fortunately, it is not the story of Christianity; on the contrary, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us” (1 John 3:16a). How can we trust that “our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (cf. Romans 8:18), that it will all be “worth it”? A huge part of the answer has to be that God also suffered. As John Stott wrote:
“I could never believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the one Nietzsche ridiculed as ‘God on the cross.’ In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to pain? I have entered many Buddhist temples and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination instead I have turned to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through his hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us.”
The impact of what the cross communicates to us cannot be understated. How do we know God loves us? Because He suffered for us. How can we trust that there is a purpose behind our suffering? Because God did not consider Himself above suffering, but suffered beside us, along with us – for us.
Now, to clarify, I am not suggesting that the above encapsulates the entirety of the Atonement’s import. In fact, I have said hardly anything about the nature of the Atonement itself or of the problems that arise with the several different theories of atonement. However, I think that any discussion of God’s plan for the Atonement must remember how central the cross is, not simply to the forgiveness of our sins, but to the whole of the Christian message.
What if at-one-ment is our always already Real Condition, and always has been, and always will be?
1. http://www.adidam.org/teaching/aletheon/truth-reality.aspx
2. http://www.dabase.org/dht7.htm
3. http://www.dabase.org/broken.htm
4. http://www.dabase.org/dualsens.htm
These related references describe the politics & culture that flows from both at-one-ment which is our Real Condition and alternatively, the actively presumed act of separativeness, or the dramatization of scapegoat politics all over the world
1. http://global.adidam.org/books/not-two-is-peace.html
2. http://www.beezone.com/AdiDa/reality-humanity.html
2. http://www.coteda.com
Really interesting points. I’m not a believer in the traditional sense, but I am certainly spiritual in my own right, and I’ve spent a lot of time trying to reconcile ideas like these.
In terms of the problem of evil, I’ve never seen a point in considering three of the possibilities. No one really wants to believe in a god who is willing but unable to prevent evil, because such a god is not terribly comforting. Nor are many interested in a god both unwilling and unable to do so, for the very reason Epicurus lists – why call such a being god? As to the possibility of god being both willing and able to prevent evil, this seems to raise more questions than it answers, and since I see faith as a personal exploration of the universe and a search for one’s own answers, I have never seriously considered this possibility.
So I believe that god is able to prevent evil, but unwilling. I do not, however, believe this makes god malevolent. I believe this illustrates the incredible strength god possesses, and more importantly, the powerful love god shows toward each and every one of us.
We humans define reality by pain. Worlds without pain and suffering are the stuff of fantasy. Even as we promise our children that they can accomplish anything they set their minds to, we tell them things like, “Who ever said life was fair?” Evil is all around, but without it, would we really feel alive? Would we really *be* alive?
Suffering, while splintering to human bonds and to human souls, can also be a powerful uniting force. Little in this life is more meaningful than pain; it can draw people together where nothing else can. The process of healing is one of those experiences that becomes a defining period of your life – imagine, such a profound impact at a time when all hope may seem lost forever.
I’ve heard it said (and I’ve claimed it myself) that without the negative aspects of life, the positive aspects wouldn’t be so positive, because there would be nothing to compare them to. I do believe this is true, but I do not think such wording is adequate; rather, I feel what I said about suffering is a better explanation. Positive forces like love are not merely *compared* to negative forces like suffering – they are more often directly juxtaposed. Quite simply, you can’t have one without the other. Love (in any sense of the word) draws so much of its meaning from suffering – whether the memory of suffering, the experience of suffering, or the knowledge of the possibility (and inevitability) of suffering.
I believe that god has always understood these things, and much more deeply than I can even begin to, as I have only my life and my own experiences to draw upon. God, on the other hand, has seen lives play out since the beginning of time, complete with love and suffering and everything else we feel as we weave our tangled webs. God knows our suffering, and further, knows that it is *necessary* for our lives to be meaningful and real.
God loves us enough to grant our lives this necessary suffering, so that we may feel truly alive, and so that we can believe, even though we are tiny meaningless specks in the grand scheme of things, that we *mattered*. Because we truly do matter – no one ever genuinely realizes how powerful an effect he or she had on the world. But it’s hard to see that most of the time, and pain and suffering can often lead to (or represent in themselves) helpful reminders. This is the proof, to me, that god loves me, loves us all.
But god also knows how difficult suffering is. God feels as we feel, hurts as we hurt, suffers as we suffer.
So god feels the collective suffering of humanity, day in and day out, and yet still understands that it is necessary and right. Imagine that kind of love and inner strength! Such qualities describe some of the greatest people in the history of humanity, and yet each of those people could never have had to bear the weight of the suffering of *all* of humankind, as god must! It is beyond the reaches of the human imagination, such love and strength.
As I said, I am not a believer in the traditional sense. I do not believe Jesus is the path to forgiveness, for I believe that god forgives all. It is a difficult and complex world in which we live, and while forgiveness is frequently (and tragically) impossible in this life, I do not believe there is a single soul unworthy of forgiveness in the next life. After all, no soul is born evil.
I do agree with you, though, that for god to be real and meaningful, god *must* experience pain. However, I do not think that one brief incident (the crucifixion) is enough to support the claim that god understands our suffering. Human suffering is far too often lifelong, each day an agony beyond the last, and death (painful or not) is hardly the worst thing in this world. I do not believe that Jesus’s death, even if it truly were god feeling that suffering, would suffice for god to really feel the suffering that we, as a species, feel on a daily basis.
To sum up, it seems to me that the ideas you present here beg the question, “What is god’s suffering as compared to ours?” I believe that the true question should be, “What is our suffering as compared to god’s?” This is the god whose love I feel, the god I can believe understands what it means to be human, the god I can put my faith in.
Thank you for your comment, Mike!
I agree with you, in large part, that God is able to prevent evil but (for many reasons) to do so – yet.
You are right in that our reality is largely defined by suffering. More than that, Beauty is defined by suffering. Without suffering, there is no possibility of love or courage or self-sacrifice. Without suffering, we live in Candyland. And God’s love for us is exemplified by His willingness to suffer for and with us: “Greater love knows no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).
However, I’d like to discuss a couple points you made with which I disagree.
You said that you “do not believe Jesus is the path to forgiveness, for I believe that god forgives all.”
But many Christians believe that God WILL forgive all – through Jesus.
http://christian-universalism.com/
At the moment, I am not willing to commit to universalism (though I am not willing to exclude it). Remember, for one, that the problem of evil is largely a problem of HUMAN evil. How will God’s love, mercy, AND justice “play out” on Judgment Day, in light of the enormity of our sin? I do not know.
However, I CAN agree that God will forgive everyone if forgiving everyone would best reflect His love, mercy, and justice.
Also, I would be careful not to minimize Jesus’ experience on the cross. First of all, Jesus spent his entire life knowing that he would be crucified. Second of all, Jesus’ crucifixion was not a “normal” crucifixion. On the cross, Jesus took upon himself the sins of the world; his suffering was thus not physical, but spiritual – even cosmic. Finally, though we cannot say with certainty how Jesus spent the three days in between his death and resurrection, we cannot discount them; after all, if the majority of Christians are correct (which they may not be), Christ spent those three days in Hell.
I encourage you to explore Christianity in your attempt to understand God. Thanks again!
Regarding your point that the crucifixion was a “brief incident” and therefore not sufficient for God to understand human suffering, which occurs on a day-to-day, prolonged basis:
I think the cosmic significance of the crucifixion can only be understood if we try to picture every single event not as an event on a timeline but as an eternal recurring event, because moving through time is an experience tied to the human condition and if we were able to experience more than four dimensions we would realize that events are never “over” – in short, that the matter of Christ’s suffering is not measurable so much by its duration as by its depth. In effect, Christ is always on the cross from the point of view of outside time. Add to that the magnitude of his suffering (if you believe he was God, he was essentially separated from Himself, which is an even more severe tearing apart than when Man, who was made to enjoy communion with God, is separated from God), and the full significance of the crucifixion will become clearer – that is, that Jesus hangs on the cross forever, having done it once, experiencing not just the physical but the spiritual torture of being separated from Himself.
Thank you for the Christian Universalism link! I hadn’t heard of that idea, and I’m strongly considering reading the book advertised on that site. I grew up in a Reform Jewish household, so my knowledge of anything beyond the first five books of the Old Testament has come in snippets from outside sources, usually used to bolster the non-Universalist view (though I realize this term covers a colossal number of denominations and ideologies). It would be interesting to see how those same snippets can be used to support an ideology of total inclusion, because after what has already been a long quest to find my own spirituality, such an ideology feels most right to me.
I have had a hard time with justice as well. As you said, justice is perhaps the key question for what happens on Judgment Day, for infinite love and mercy will not make anyone “pay for their crimes” or whatever justice requires. I certainly want those who have committed evil to recognize that they have done so, in this life or at the very least in the next. But I have a hard time accepting that committing evil in this life – even without recognizing it as evil – warrants an eternity of suffering in the next, especially when abject suffering in THIS life is so often associated with committing acts of evil.
And so I have come to feel that justice is a word that should not be associated with any life but this. Justice is an often indispensable notion here on Earth, because humans are not capable of infinite love and mercy, and evil must be punished if we are to survive as a species. But what if, in the next life, empathy abounds as it can never do in this life? What if every single human being (or their soul, or whatever you imagine to be present in the next life) can understand exactly why every other human being committed whatever sins they committed in their lifetimes? After all, no human is born evil. Some evil may be genetic (a frightening thought), but the vast majority is learned or bred. While these factors cannot excuse evil on Earth, they *must* be taken into account in making final judgment on a life.
In short, each of us understands exactly why we have done the things we have done in our lives. The problem on Earth is that we cannot do so for anyone else, because we’re not in their minds. But in the next life, I believe this isn’t a problem anymore. I don’t mean that everyone can read minds; rather, everyone can understand exactly what influenced everyone else to do what they did in their lives.
Furthermore, I believe this widespread empathy in the next life will lead everyone to recognize the evil they have committed as such. This, then, is the perfect scenario: We are all sinners, and we all recognize we are sinners, and we all forgive each other for being sinners. And no eternal damnation is necessary.
If you’re wondering what god’s role in all this might be, I’m not so sure myself. Since I have created something of a fantasy world in which empathy magically appears, perhaps god is actually empathy itself – a force of understanding, much as you might consider god a force of love or compassion or mercy or justice.
Regarding the crucifixion, I’m sorry for minimizing it; as I said, Jesus was not an important part of my life growing up, so I’m not terribly familiar with the story. When you say he “took upon himself the sins of the world,” do you mean he became the victim of all those sins, or he became the person who committed all those sins? Did he feel the pain of being sinned against, or did he feel the pain of sinning and recognizing those sins as evil? I would guess it’s the latter, but if that’s the case I’m still confused, because not everyone in the world recognizes their sins as evil, and just because Jesus did doesn’t mean they would as well, so how would they be forgiven through such an act?
Why did Jesus spend those three days in hell? What did he do (or not do) that warranted hell?
Thank you for those ideas! They make a lot of sense to me. I, too, believe that god is outside the passage of time, and that god can eternally see and feel the past and the present as one (and perhaps the future, but I haven’t quite figured that one out yet).
I’ve always been a bit confused by the notion of being separated from god. We can “call god to us,” can’t we? We can pray and ask for guidance and even feel god’s presence within us. I could never believe in a god that wouldn’t come when needed – that’s the kind of god I would call malevolent, regardless of the problem of evil. God is one of humankind’s great protectors, whether you believe god is an omnipotent deity or just a figment of our collective imagination. Either way, knowledge of and belief in god is something we store deep in our hearts, and it can keep us going like little else. So how can we ever come to be separated from god, unless we truly desire to be (in which case it should not cause us any pain)?
Mike,
Most Christians would say that it is our sin that separates us from God. In many ways, the story of mankind is the story of God chasing after us as we run away, as expressed in this poem:
http://www.cs.drexel.edu/~gbrandal/Illum_html/hound.html
You suggested that being separated from God should not cause us any pain if we do not desire to be with God. But I would say that we were created in God’s image, and (as Augustine wrote) “our hearts are restless until they rest in [Him].” We were designed to be with God; we deviate from this design at our own loss.
Mike, thanks for the dialogue!
Universal reconciliation and eternal conscious suffering in Hell are not the only Christian theories of the afterlife. Suffering in the afterlife is not necessarily conscious or (strictly speaking) eternal. Christians understand the afterlife in a variety of ways.
I would be careful to attribute too much of evil to genetics, environment, or upbringing. These scientific understandings of human nature are important (indeed vital), but they do not encapsulate what it means to choose evil. And mankind has chosen a lot of evil.
I am not so sure we understand exactly why we do everything that we do. Looking back on a lot of my sins – the times I’ve gotten angry at people or lied or what-have-you – it almost feels like an alien did those things. Our human experience is in large part defined by the tension between who we want to be and who we actually are. We are, by nature, inclined to sin – and we do not always understand this. (Romans 7:7-25 discusses this concept in more detail.)
I think my God is a God of empathy, though the Bible does not use that word. Empathy means understanding the experiences of the Other. As a Christian, I believe that God became Man in part to understand – to empathize with – mankind.
Are sins still evil if we don’t know that they are sins? I think, in some cases, that they can be. A good analogy from the secular world is involuntary manslaughter. If you don’t mean to kill someone but end up killing someone due to neglect or recklessness, you are still culpable for that person’s death. You could potentially point to Indians in the Amazon who have never heard of Jesus. What about them? I trust that God will handle them with justice and mercy, as He handles us all.
It’s difficult to say exactly what it means for Jesus to bear our sins upon the cross. I don’t exactly know – that’s one of the things I’m trying to figure out. What I do know is that sins are not just physical actions; they are spiritual decisions, with spiritual repercussions and consequences. And Jesus’ death on the cross was (in some way) intended to repair all that sin destroys. Because of this, I am inclined to believe that his suffering on the cross transcended the mere (though hardly negligible) physical pain of crucifixion.
I am not sure what Jesus would have done in Hell (or Hades – I should point out that some Christians, including me, would distinguish between Hell and Hades). The point of mentioning those three days is simply that there are dimensions of Jesus’ crucifixion and death that are, to put it mildly, abnormal. And so we should probably be careful in reducing his suffering on the cross to any one thing.
I know that this is a lot, and you probably are very confused at the moment. (I know that I would be.) The Christian tradition spans three millennia (as of nine years ago) and billions of people, and so there’s a lot of stuff to figure out. I apologize for the inadequacy of my replies, but I hope that you will be able to explore Christianity more. If I may ask, are you a Harvard student?
I’m becoming more and more interested in studying theology, because there is so much I never knew, and so many things I thought I knew which greatly colored my view of Christianity that may be much more multifaceted than I thought. This dialogue has been extremely enlightening!
For instance, I have only ever heard of one view on the Christian afterlife – at least until you mentioned Christian Universalism. I have also never before heard a reason for why god chose to take a human form (or send his son to take a human form), except to die for our sins. And I certainly never knew that Jesus may have gone to hell. This gives me much to think about.
You are exactly right about us not always understanding why we do the things we do; I definitely misspoke. I was trying to venture into the question of determinism, a philosophy that is still being developed in my mind and which I still know far too little about. What I should have said was that it is *possible* to understand a person’s lifetime of choices and actions, but no living person can do so. I believe all of our choices are determined by what you call the scientific understandings of human nature, but I do not believe that means we have no free will. Instead of those scientific perspectives determining the choices themselves, I feel that they powerfully shape who we grow to become, and this in turn shapes the kinds of choices we are likely to make. Choosing evil – and choosing good – can be difficult or easy, brief or permanent, powerful or meaningless, intentional or not. The aspects of ourselves that go into such decisions are almost impossibly myriad, but they are still existing aspects of ourselves, and they came into being somehow, for some reason. I believe it is possible to see exactly how and why they came into being, though probably only for god – for to see this, one must see inside the person’s mind and also see from outside of it (to see the things the person does not, which, as you said, are many). This tremendous understanding seems to fit with my idea that god is a force of understanding. I hope that wasn’t too confusing; as I said, I’m still trying to work it out myself.
I’m sorry if I’ve ever belittled your beliefs. I have had some extremely fiery views toward Christianity over the last several years, probably in large part because I have been exposed to such a small part of it – and such a small set of adherents. A year or two ago I had a conversation with a Christian in which I (a bit too harshly) criticized certain aspects of the faith, and she later told me that it hurt her to hear me be so cavalier and careless with her most sacred beliefs. As I have learned more, I have softened, and I certainly recognize the wonderful benefits that Christianity gives to the world and to countless individuals. Moreover, I recognize that the principal core tenets of the faith are ones to which I fully subscribe. I have spent too long relying on my incomplete knowledge of the faith; I must study it in more depth. Already I have begun to see a way in which the divinity of Jesus and my own spiritual views could be reconciled. I still don’t think I will ever be someone who can be considered a Christian on the merit of my beliefs, but then, perhaps Christianity is more expansive and multidimensional than I imagine.
I’m actually a rising senior at the University of Michigan. I’m a high school friend of your editor-in-chief, and I periodically read the Ichthus articles he posts on Facebook.
Unfortunately, I think this is one area in which the differences in core beliefs about god that we start from will render us forever unable to accept the other’s conclusions. I take as a given that god does not chase after us in an attempt to draw us to her; rather, I believe god follows us wherever we may go. I don’t believe there is one “way” or “truth” or “light,” but that each person makes his/her own way, truth, and light, and god is something like the union of all possible ways. As such, god can understand us and be with us and support us no matter which path we choose.
An aside on the “her” I threw in there: I generally try to stay away from pronouns when talking about god, because god’s “gender” can be a contentious subject, and was certainly a tough one for me to work out. I always pictured god in a male form, probably because I grew up with Judaism’s male god. But at a certain point, it just stopped making sense. Males have long been dominant in much of human society, and it was males who wrote most of the world’s holy books – especially the Western ones. But females are the ones who create life, who have wombs and ovaries and eggs, who in general are more nurturing and peaceful and forgiving and unconditionally loving than men. Doesn’t it make so much more sense that women were created in god’s image, and men were created from women?
I’m not sure I understand what the difference is between God’s chasing after us and God’s following us wherever we go. What do you think it is? When I said that God chased after us, I didn’t mean that we could somehow move beyond God’s reach. Indeed, I am reminded of Psalm 139:7-10, in which David writes,
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
If I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
If I settle on the far side of the sea,
Even there your hand will guide me,
Your right hand will hold me fast.”
Isn’t what David is expressing similar to what you are expressing? (Forgive me if I am misunderstanding your views.)
If you believe that God is the “union” of all possible ways and lights, then I think you’re not that far away from believing that there is one Truth, one Way, and one Light.
For my part, I think that God is Truth and God is Light. I think that people certainly experience God in different ways and pursue Him in different ways, but I don’t think that means there are different “truths” or “lights.” For example, different people might love in different ways, but the variations are all of one fundamental truth – Love. And God is Love. God can understand us and follow us wherever we go, but that does not mean that deviating from the way we SHOULD go is a good thing.
I think that God, not having a body, is not truly gendered, and so the use of the male pronoun in the Bible is (in a way) arbitrary. Men and women create life together, after all.
(I’m responding here because it won’t let me respond on your most recent comment.)
I am glad that this dialogue has helped you! Perhaps you can pursue it further with your friend here at the Ichthus. There quite literally is a whole Christian world for you to explore.
Free will is certainly a very confusing subject. I see no reason to be committed to a deterministic view of the universe, but there certainly are lots of weird things about this topic. In the end, I am satisfied with the knowledge that God, using His plenary (i.e., complete) knowledge of us and our decisions, will judge in love, justice, and mercy.
There is no need to apologize! You’ve been very respectful throughout this conversation, and I appreciate your attempt to understand more. I encourage you to examine your beliefs critically and never to put Christianity (or any belief system) in a “box.” There’s more to Christianity, philosophically and otherwise, than most people (and most Christians!) realize.
When I say that god follows us wherever we go, I mean that there’s no logical way in which we could “run away” from god. I think I understand what you mean when you say I am not far from believing in one way/truth/light, but I think this is the key element that keeps me from truly believing that. If there is anything I have always believed in with all my heart, it is love, so I certainly believe that if there is a Way, it is love. But I also believe that we all must make our own choices, and that the ideal life after this one would be a life in which all those choices can be understood – even if they deviate from love. I don’t see such deviations as running away from god; they’re just choices, just like all the choices that you might call being with god, and they deserve just as much attention and understanding from god (and from fellow humans).
It seems like we are very close to saying the same thing, because I agree that people pursue love or god or truth or whatever you’d like to call it in vastly different ways, and that even though these are different they can still be considered the same way or truth. But I just can’t see fit to say that there is a way we “should” go. There must be a “should” on Earth, for the reasons I listed earlier when I spoke of justice, but I don’t think there must be a “should” beyond this life.
I agree that assigning god a gender is a pointless venture, but I still must recognize that god *has* been assigned a gender for a long time, and that this assignment has without question had drastic impact. I feel that, as long as we continue to call god Him, we cannot truly recognize equality between men and women.
One last quick thing, unrelated to this article or our dialogue – I clicked on your name and saw that your name on blogspot is Speaker for the Dead, which both shocked and delighted me! A month or two ago, I was discussing some of the very same spiritual beliefs I discussed here on my Livejournal, and a friend suggested I read Speaker for the Dead because many of my ideas fit very well with the notion of a speaker for the dead. I had long since read Ender’s Game, but hadn’t thought to finish the series. Well, it didn’t take me long to zoom through Speaker and Xenocide and Children of the Mind, and the quartet comprises four of my favorite books of all time. On top of the stories themselves and the lessons they teach, I absolutely love the chapter introductions Orson Scott Card includes – especially when they discuss religion and faith, as with the intro you just posted yesterday about the rabbis. It’s so fascinating to ponder those!
That was my delight. But I’m a bit confused as to why you call yourself speaker for the dead, when it seems to me that those kinds of ideas speak much more to the kinds of spiritual ideas I’m discussing than the Christian ones. That was my initial confusion, at least, but even as I wrote it I wondered if this weren’t another area in which we were speaking of beliefs more similar than I thought, and in which Christianity is more multifaceted than I imagine.
In any case, thank you so much for the above dialogue! You have opened my mind a great deal and increased my interest to learn more!
You know, to be honest, I’ve never read Speaker for the Dead. I’ve read Ender’s Game and Ender’s Shadow, and I thought “Speaker for the Dead” sounded cool. I still do think it’s cool, and I hope to read it someday. I also felt that what I, as a Christian, I speak for the dead – for the Christians who came before me. I am defending (for the most part) the Christian tradition – and tradition is (as Chesterton says) the democracy of the dead.
I mean, I don’t think we actually “run away” from God; I think that is a metaphor to understand what happens when we choose sin (not-God). Our choices certainly deserve understanding and attention, but we should also be clear about what our “choices” often entail. Murder and rape are choices, and what they deserve is punishment. In fact, “all have fallen short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). We all, at some point or another, have forsaken God.
I would say that the miracle is that God chooses to love us – and to forgive us – in SPITE of our choices (which He quite possibly understands perfectly).
I’m not sure what you mean when you say there won’t be a “should” in the next life.
(I’m not sure if this reply will appear in the logical place; this page no longer formats itself like it used to for me, but instead just places the comments in chronological order, and I can’t reply to any specific one.)
I think I see the true difference in our understandings of god. While I agree that god’s infinite love is truly a miracle, I do not see evil choices as forsaking god. To me, sin is not not-god; it is merely an inevitable facet of being human. God, who understands all such facets (and who is indeed the union of all such facets, enabling her to understand in this way), does not represent only some of them and not others.
I suppose talking about a “should” in the next life is poor word choice, because we both agree that our choices play out in this life and influence what we find in the next life, where there are no more choices to be made or paths to follow. I was trying to say that, while there are evil choices in this life (i.e. there are choices that we “should not” make as humans, and we use justice to punish those who do make those choices), there are no past choices which should be considered evil in the next life. All choices made in this life will be understood well beyond living human capacity, and thus there is no need of the same kind of justice. So when I say there won’t be a “should” in the next life, I simply mean there won’t be any categorizing of past choices (into sin and not-sin, or any other set of categories).