One of the
great questions of my generation, the post-World War II generation, is: How is it possible to believe in God after
the genocide of that war? Since that time, atheism has grown by leaps and
bounds all over Europe and North America especially. The continuing cruelty of
both nature and human
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interaction has continued unabated since then.
Christians
have often blithely answered the question as if the solution were simple: God
is good; God will reward the good and punish the evildoers. We just have to
wait patiently for God to deal with all this. While that position is neat, it
is not nearly enough.
Of all the
sources in our Judeo-Christian tradition, perhaps it is the book of Job that
comes the closest to addressing the question posed at the beginning of this
reflection. Gustavo Gutierrez took a long hard look at that text some 30 years
ago. I will try to go through the fundamentals of
his interpretation.
For
Gutierrez the question posted by the book of Job is: How can we speak of God in
the face of the suffering of the innocent? Job is a highly nuanced literary
work set in the context of an imagined wager between God and Satan. God is
proud of the faith and the goodness of Job. Satan bets that he will curse God
if he is made to suffer. God accepts the wager. Job loses everything and then,
in a second step, suffers terrible personal pain and isolation. How will Job
react?
Thus the
scene is set for a dramatic dialogue. Job complains bitterly of his suffering.
His friends arrive and present the classic theological argument of the time: If
he suffers, it is because he has sinned. He has only to repent and all will be
well. God will forgive him.
Except that
Job will not repent. He insists that he has done nothing to merit the suffering
he endures. This rejection of the theology of the period scandalizes his
friends. But, Job insists and even deepens his complaint. It would appear, Job
thinks, that God is acting unjustly and he does not understand why. He demands
a personal confrontation with God so that he can argue his case. Even should he
be condemned, he wants to present his case.
There is
one further moment when a young man, who has not spoken during the exchange,
speaks up to insist that Job needs to understand that God is greater than he
imagines and that no one can question the mysterious ways of God that surpass
all our understanding. In this respect, the young man has gone deeper, has
advanced beyond the classic explanations. But it is not enough for Job who
repeats his claim to innocence and his demand to have his day in court with
God. Even so, there is an important advance here. Enlightened by the young man’s
speech, Job expands the question of suffering to include not just his personal
situation but that of all those who suffer innocently. Job moves beyond the
closed circle of his own interest to a larger question of compassion and solidarity.
And in moving beyond himself, his suffering takes on a different tone. His
complaint is no longer just one of his personal lot.
Finally,
God speaks. He has two things to say. Both speeches repudiate the traditional
theological explanations and go well beyond that of the young man. It is to be
noted that God never once questions the innocence of Job. The argument moves to
an entirely different level.
In the
first argument, God insists, through a series of ironic questions, that the
universe has been created with a plan and that no one can attempt to control
God’s way of dealing with the Creator’s universe. God is free and not to be
controlled by creatures. The human does not have a central place in creation as
if the universe exists for human benefit. The universe is God’s and God will do
with it whatever is in God’s plan and without interference of small-minded
humans who try to determine what God should do. The centre of focus is no
longer on Job’s complaint about his lot or even that of generalized human
suffering but rather on the freedom of God to deal with creation and history.
The second
argument goes even further. It is also set in a series of ironic questions directed
at Job. Who are you to try to understand the ways of God? Who are you to tell God how to run the
universe? But, there is more: Everything, everything, all creatures, all that
happens, is pleasing to God, is a consequence of God’s eternal love and
everything will always be enfolded in that love that surpasses all
understanding. God is free and God enfolds it all in compassionate love. God
cannot be contained. In other words, the suffering of all creatures is always
at the centre of God’s interest and is enveloped in compassion and love whether
or not humans are able to understand that.
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| http://gemscraps.blogspot.ca/2012/02/word-art-wednesday-14.html |
Job is
dumbfounded. He ends his complaining. He acknowledges that he has spoken rashly
of God. He does not abandon his claim for innocence. It is simply no longer
relevant. The focus has shifted from his own suffering, even from that of all
humanity and all creatures to the free and compassionate love of God. Job has had his demand met. His answer is not
a logical theory but rather an encounter with one who understands his suffering
and freely offers his compassionate solidarity. This is a God far beyond what
he had understood up to that point. He is satisfied. He no longer complains.
The turning point then is that encounter with the ultimate Mystery of love and
compassion.
In the New
Testament, Jesus presents God as loving Father. Over and over he repeats the
message. He is not understood. He is condemned and even executed. In the end,
he embodies that Divine presence in his own life and death – and resurrection.
The answer
to the question of how we can speak of God in the face of the suffering of the
innocent is, finally, not answered by a long theological argument. It is
answered by an encounter with the supreme Mystery of the compassionate God who
creates the universe and all its creatures with unbounded love and compassion,
who is in charge of the universe but never controlled by it. That encounter is
what changes everything. Only in the encounter can the question be finally
“answered” not with a rational “word” but with the experience of unbounded
love.
The question posed today is not about how to speak of God after the holocaust but rather of how to speak of God as the carnage continues in our own time. The poor, the oppressed, the tortured, have every reason to complain to God and to us. We will not achieve anything with long rational arguments - theological or otherwise. What is required is our solidarity and that solidarity will find its first and fundamental expression in a profound attitude of respectful listening.
