My faith has changed over the years. Changed mightily and in ways I could never have predicted in the aftermath of my first great religious experience.
As some of you may know I was once a convinced Christian, a zealous Christian: as zealous, over-bearing and ignorant as the Christians that so earnestly debate the trivia of their dogmas here on JU.
I think I took my first steps away from those endless and pointless debates after the death of my friend, Susan. After her cremation I went home with a question clanging in my head, a question I couldn't still or put aside. Why had her life been so pitifully and cruelly thwarted? It wasn't enough to think that the human condition has always been one of pain, and misfortune, and undeserved misery.
Every time I opened the Bible I was confronted by Job, and by the unending cry of existential agony that forms the core of the Lamentations of Jeremiah. And equally I was confronted by the entirely unmerited suffering of animals at the hands of Man -
whether through the infliction of vile tortures in the pursuit of money, profit; or through neglect, or through deliberate cruelty for pleasure.
Whether or not there is some sense in which my friend Susan could be said to have 'merited' her deafness, her disfigurement, and the isolation and loneliness they bred, there is no sense in which dumb brutes can be said to merit the torments they endure at our hands. They suffer for our convenience, our pleasure and our profit. Nothing more. And that's something I find abominably, hatefully wrong.
The more I looked, the darker became my vision. As I began to realise, in some tiny, miniscule degree, the endless weight of misery and horror and despair that makes up life my question took another form. If God is just, why do the innocent suffer so, while very often the guilty go free, make money, and live lives of ease and pleasure?
The Psalms are full of that question, repeated hundreds of times in different ways. And the answer is always the same: faith in the righteousness and justice of God. But I saw precious little of either.
I went to my pastor, and he couldn't answer me. I went to priests and vicars, and they couldn't answer me. I went to friends, and to people I respected, and they couldn't answer me. And finally it occurred to me that if an answer existed at all I would have to find it for myself. And it was in that moment that I freed myself from a kind of mental slavery, entirely characteristic of all types of Dogmatic Religion, in which I was unable to think for myself because I was fenced in by the opinions of people who knew as little, or less, than I did but who had taken to themselves the authority to forbid a believer the right to inquire of his God.
I rejected that 'authority' in the instant that I understood it, and was never its slave again. Much to the consternation of some, subsequently. So I began to study, and to think, and to piece together an understanding that let me say good-bye to my friend and move on.
The first principle of that understanding, which remains unchanged in me to this day, is that God is just, and no accusation raised
against God can or will be vindicated. As was said to Job "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the world?"
Jesus remains for me now the Archtype of a certain kind of devotion, power, and spiritual attainment which we can all reach - if we desire it enough, will it unwaveringly and without doubt - and are prepared to pay the price. What Jesus is not, for me now, is the Christ, the Messiah, the Saviour of the World. Jesus was a son of God, just as I am and you are.
Certainly he believed he died as a sinless Offering for the sins of the world, and for all I know his offering was accepted as such. And because that offering was made in perfect faith and obedience (as nearly perfect as humanity can achieve) it remains, as the more literate Christians insist, the exemplar of suffering innocence in
redemptive service of others.
And the words written about that sacrifice in the Gospels and Letters are true - but not for the reasons and in the way that Christians believe. God is one and indivisible and has no 'son', except in the way I've described, in the way that we are all 'Sons of God'.
After much study and thought, I found in these verses in Romans 8 the kernel of the answer I was looking for:
Rom 8:19 For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God.
Rom 8:20 For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected [the same] in
hope,
Rom 8:21 Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.
Rom 8:22 For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.
Rom 8:23 And not only [they], but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves,
waiting for the adoption, [to wit], the redemption of our body.
If God is just, and if the creation is not only good but very good, then suffering has a place within it. And, before anyone tells me
that the creation was declared to be 'very good' before the fall of Adam and the supposed entry of sin into the world, let me say that
the creation contained and contains not only what is, but the possibility of what is to be. So that, just as the redemptive sufferings of Jesus were foreknown and foreordained so also was the possibility of suffering, and the reality of suffering as it would be experienced later.
God is the author of everything that is - and of everything that can possibly be - because nothing comes to be save by the will of God. Such things are impossible says the fool who does not know God; they are contrary to sound doctrine says the fool who thinks he knows God:
15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
(Psalm 139)
Suffering, the suffering of innocents, has a place in life. If it has a place it has a function. And if it has a function it has meaning. If it has meaning it can, as the words of Jesus do, speak to that void of confusion and doubt and assuage it by filling it.
If I'm to suffer then I would rather do it knowingly, consciously, and meaningfully, than in the ignorance of some poor brute for whom suffering is nothing but random terror and pain.
Hidden in those few verses in Romans 8 is the key.
18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
19 The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed.
20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope
21 that[i] the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.
The whole of the creation was subjected to the frustration of its being - the harmonious functioning of the whole - by its creator so that not only the Sons of God might be redeemed but the whole of created reality. That redemption is most cleary expressed by the death and resurrection of Jesus, which is a perfect type of the death we all must undergo; and also the perfect type of the resurrection of Life within ourselves (and through us in the world) that we may all achieve.
The suffering of the innocent is not punitive because no fault has been committed by them. It is not remedial, because, again, there is no fault to be remedied or the sufferer would not be innocent.
It's participatory. It participates in and echoes the great cry from the Cross that immediately preceded the death of Jesus, that cry which was the herald of the redemption Jesus promised to his companions: Father, why have you forsaken me.
And when I grasped the fact that the blood and tears of the innocent are the same blood and tears that were shed by Jesus, I was set free, as I am free today, even though my conception of Jesus has changed radically. I found that I could absolve God - since God suffered first. And even now, when my understanding is so greatly changed, I can say that the divinity within, that which in me most closely resembles the archetype of the perfectly self-realised man represented by Jesus, still cries those same words from the cross of our humanity: why have you forsaken me? And I can say that the blood and tears of the innocent call to some great change in the nature and understanding of Man, some change that the shedding of blood and of tears facilitates and will bring about.
I don't say that the comfort I have found will comfort others in the same way, or at all. It might well be too mystical and
impractical. But I will say this. It is a spiritual principle, rather than a merely practical act. It is deduced from the words of the Book and from the inner workings of my faith, and it's the comfort I would offer someone who needed no practical help but a new way to understand and a new way to be.
And on those grounds, I say that I have satisfied the conditions of my own challenge.