I had an interesting discussion with my co-workers recently
that I haven’t quite been able to get out of my head. We were discussion that theological dilemma about whether or
not God intervenes (or chooses not to intervene) in order to teach us a lesson.
More specifically, did God cause
my co-worker to get an intense thyroid virus that rendered him incapable of
doing pretty much anything as a way to “slow him down?” This conversation sprung from an
incredibly insensitive comment that I made- pretty much to that effect.
For the record I felt awful when I realized what I’d
said. I mean if he were battling
cancer, I would never in a million years have told him that God caused his
cancer in order to slow him down.
That would be awful. And if
someone had told me that God allowed my dad to die so that I could learn
something I would have punched that person in the face. It’s a problematic theology, this
“God’s hand in stressful/difficult/tragic situations in order for us to learn
something” theology.
And I’ve wrestled with it much this year following my dad’s
death. I don’t believe that God would
put our family through the hell of this year to teach us something. It’s pretty twisted. I don’t think God causes cancer in
order to wake us up or makes us hit that tree with our car to teach us a
lesson. I just don’t think God is
that manipulative or cruel.
But if I don’t believe that, can I believe that God does
intervene in some cases? Was it
his hand that caused me to be late, narrowly missing that car crash by mere
seconds? If he saved me, why
didn’t he also do it for the others?
It’s a tricky rabbit hole to go down.
And it’s hard because I don’t want to pick and choose,
acknowledging God’s intervention when the outcome is good but not when the
outcome is bad. But then is the
solution to acknowledge God’s intervention in ALL things or in NO things?
Like most things regarding God I’m finding myself more and
more comfortable with a simple “I don’t really know.” And that’s how I left it in the conversation with my
co-workers. I’m just not really
sure.
But then later, as I drove home, I realized there is
something that I’m beginning to know for sure. I’m beginning to know that in all things God redeems. This is the story told over and over
again throughout the Bible. God
redeems. He takes what is
broken, what is lost, what is ruined and he makes it new, better,
beautiful. He turns a horrific
death on a cross into salvation for all.
He redeems. God is in the
business of redemption.
For a long time I believed that God’s work of redemption was
a begrudging work. We stupid
humans kept messing up what God had created and he kept swooping in to “fix
it.” And each time he did, it came
with an eye roll, a heavy sigh and a hint of annoyance that there was yet
another thing in need of redemption.
But I’m starting to wonder if God maybe loves being in the
business of redemption. If this is
the kind of work that makes his heart sing. If it is exhilarating and fulfilling and exciting work for
him. Maybe it’s because I’ve been
binge watching last season of Gray’s Anatomy on Netflix, but this idea of God
loving the work of redemption makes me think of surgeons. Surgery is long, and complicated and
exhausting. And yet surgeons, the
ones who were made to be surgeons, can’t get enough of it. They would stand in one place for hours
and hours at a time fixing what is broken in the human body and walk out of
that operating room exhilarated, fulfilled and excited. They aren’t rolling their eyes and
huffing about having to fix another heart. They are in the business of fixing hearts. It’s what they were made to do.
And I think God is in the business of redeeming what is
broken, hard and hurting.
So I’m starting to pay attention to this work. When I do this well I notice it all
around. God is redeeming hard
things all the time. Which is good
because we humans are really effective at creating hard things in need of
redemption. I want to partner with
God in that work of redemption. I
want to pull people out of wells and help redeem their stories. I want to be a person who looks for
ways to bring about something redemptive in all things.
Because there is something different about redemptive work. It’s not false positivity. So many times in this past year of
grieving I would get so frustrated with people who constantly wanted to point
out any positives or push me along to happier thoughts. Comments like, “I know this is hard but
I pray that you can draw on all your happy memories of your dad right now” did
anything but uplift me. People are
uncomfortable with sadness and so they are desperate to find anything positive
and I get that. But it left me
feeling like I shouldn’t be sad, like if I just focused on the happy stuff the
unbearable pain would just go away.
False positivity wants to hide the pain, cover it up, distract from it,
pretend that it doesn’t exist.
Redemption is different. Redemption sits in the pain and broken. Honors it. Allows for it. And then out of that pain creates
something new. Redemption is
rooted in the broken so that you don’t have to ignore or deny it, but blooms
something beautiful out of pain. Where
false positivity wants to pretend like things can be the same, as before, if we
just focus on what’s positive, redemption recognizes that nothing will ever be
the same, but beauty is still possible.
Something new is created and it is good. It is something altogether different than before it was
broken, but it is beautiful and redeemed.
Redemption is everywhere I’m realizing. Just as God is everywhere, so is his
redemptive work. In all things God
redeems.
