God and the ‘Problem of Evil’… according to a first grader

I was reminded the other day of a post I had wanted to put up last summer.  There is so much one could write on this subject, but alas, I barely have time to write for my dissertation! 

What reminded me of it was a conversation I had with a woman here in St Andrews about God and the age-old question of the ‘problem of evil’.  ‘How can God be good if he lets all these bad things happen’.  ‘Why doesn’t God stop it’?  ‘Is he not powerful enough’?  ‘Does it mean that he doesn’t exist’? 

The questions are endless and have been asked for thousands of years, and probably at some point in the life of everyone who has ever lived.  Some day, I firmly believe, we will have the answers.  Until then, God asks us to have faith in him, that when he says he is a good God, he IS a good God, no matter what it may look like to our limited perceptions of the current state of the world and world history.

And this ‘problem’ of God’s relationship to evil is discernable even to a first grader…  

One sunny day last summer mom and Ava were out on the deck tending to the bird feeders and baths.  A small, yellow goldfinch was hanging about and would fly to within only a few feet of Ava.  As she was admiring the beautiful creation, Wilbur (the dog) did what Wilbur is prone to do.  Faster than either the bird or Ava could realize, the yellow feathers were hanging out of Wilbur’s mouth, and Ava was devastated, having watched the circle of life go ‘round before her six year old eyes.

Mom, who is, in every situation, a great defender of her best friend, tries to do so once again—except that this time she entered territory no person dares to enter. 

‘It’s not Wilbur’s fault’, she says.  ‘God made him to be a hunter, and so he’s only doing what God made him to do’. 

That sounds like a lovely answer, except that logic always wins – even to a first grader.

Ava says, ‘So it’s God’s fault then’!

‘No… well… uh… er… God’s not… uh… hmm.  Hey!  We forgot to fill the bird feeders over there!  Oh, and look at these flowers, aren’t they pretty?  Do you want to go down to the river today?  I think we should have some ice cream.  Would you like some, too?’

Mom wasn’t quite ready for that answer and will be joining me in a theology class or two. :)  It will be called:  Practical Theology for Parents and Grandparents: How to answer your children’s profound questions about everything you know nothing about.

We do serve a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger, and rich in love.  And if he says he is good, then HE IS GOOD!  I hope you are all able to trust in his love and goodness today, no matter what situations in life he has you in at the moment.

Six Degrees of Separation?

In writing the previous post I was struck at how easy it seems for people and places in my life that are otherwise unrelated to intersect one another in all manners of unlikeliness.  How many times have you said to someone upon meeting them unexpectedly, or discovering an unlikely connection:

‘Fancy meeting you here’!

‘What a coincidence’!

‘What a small world’!

The longer I live and the more I travel, the more convinced I become that we truly do live in a small world.  Have you ever heard of the rule, ‘six degrees of separation’?  The theory is that there are only six steps between one person and another on the globe, so that any two people on earth are only separated from knowing one another by six ‘friend of a friend’ statements.  Though the theory is contested, some days I wonder if it isn’t more like four or five steps of separation.

Previous to the last fifty years, six steps was entirely unrealistic.  But given the global society in which we now live, with the internet, Facebook, cell phones, and plenty of iTechnology I have no idea how to use, somehow all the people and places in our lives seem to be interconnected.  And yet, I’m still struck at the coincidences that seem to increase from year to year and place to place.  Here are just a few that I can think of off hand:

- While in Kyrgyzstan I remember meeting someone who knew the location of Zumbro Falls, MN.  Zumbro Falls!  In Kyrgyzstan!  Doesn’t sound like a big deal?  You may know one or the other, but do you know where both are?  Not many will, but here’s a hint for one… it’s not in Africa!

- On this day six years ago, I left Kyrgyzstan and flew to Hungary to visit my friend Kim.  Two days shy of exactly six years later, my friend Kim flew to Kyrgyzstan. 

- My friend Faye from my Kyrgyzstan-Kazakhstan team knows my friend Bonita from Camp Victory.

- Mary, the pastors wife from Kyrgyzstan, lives near to me here in Scotland.

- In Florida I met someone who knows the location of Bellechester, MN, where a total of about 100 people currently live. 

   

- While in Massachusetts I discovered that a seminary friends’ mom and my mom not only went to high school together, but both grew up in Bellechester together!

- My friends, Andrew and Susan, from here know my friends, Betsy and Alex, from Massachusetts

- My friends, Betsy and Alex, from Massachusetts now live just south of me in England

- My friend, Susan, from here knows my friend Maria from Minnesota

- A new professor here at St Andrews came from Gordon-Conwell at the same time as I did last year.  But what’s more… he’s originally from Winona, MN.

These probably don’t seem like big deals to you, but stop for a moment and remember all of your ‘small world’ experiences, and soon enough you will find yourself equally as struck by the kind of world in which we now live.  It truly is becoming a global society, and that even includes places like Bellechester, Zumbro Falls, Cooke City, and Kyrgyzstan. 

Not quite Mazeppa though.  Peoples’ response to that place is still, this.

International Women’s Day

I wish I had time to write more about this very important day of celebration around the world. If you are from the United States, you may have never heard of it.  Hopefully in time it will become as known and as important as it already is in the non-western world. 

March 8th of every year is International Women’s Day. 

Not Mother’s Day.  Not Valentine’s day.  Women’s Day.  International.

Around the globe on this day people recognize the importance and contribution of women to the societies in which we live.  Not for being good mothers or good wives, but for being women:  for their intelligence, hard work, creativity and ingenuity, fortitude, character and equality in all areas of life.   And for some women around the world, that celebration and recognition only happens once a year, on March 8th.

I’ve experienced two truly International Women’s Days – the first while in Moscow and the second while in Kyrgyzstan.  On no other day of the year, including Valentine’s Day, have I ever seen as many flowers being sold along streets and in city squares as on I did on those two days.  Men buy flowers for their wives, daughters, sisters, mothers, employers, neighbors… the women in their lives who have made them the man they are proud to be.  And not just flowers, but words of appreciation, acts of kindness, notes of encouragement and gratitude.  It’s the one day a year when, in many countries, men will cook and clean and care for the children and daily household needs, while the women have their yearly “day off.”  At least in Russia and Kyrgyzstan, women are given the day off even from their employment, or more commonly perhaps, their place of employment closes entirely as if to celebrate a national holiday. 

If you’re from the northern western hemisphere and if you’re a man, I know what you’re thinking.  I can hear the sarcasm in your voice as I write.  “Women get this throughout the year.  They don’t need a special day just for them.  They have it easy and just like to complain.”  Perhaps in some places; but not in most.   Certainly most women in the poorer countries around the world do not get treatment such as this, and even in the west, you might be surprised to know how unappreciated the women in your life feel on a daily basis.  Except for on March 8th, and even then, only if they’re lucky. 

“When is International Men’s Day,” you ask?  Every day.  If you don’t see that happening around the globe right now, then you could stand to do a little international homework. 

So mark it on your calendar.  Celebrate the women in your life on Thursday, March 8th this year.  Do something special.  Give a flower, send a note, make a call, do something nice… something that demonstrates your gratitude for those women in your life who make your life as special as it is.  And consider the truly harsh conditions in which the women in the rest of the world are living.

And for good measure, here’s the link to the official website, if only just to say, “I’m not making this stuff up!”

http://www.internationalwomensday.com/about.asp

of prayers and petitions for the new year

Not many written prayers have been lodged in my memory over the years, but one in particular has a special place of residence.  A prayer written in 1905 by Albert B. Simpson, the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, has traveled with me since college and has become my daily prayer and petition for my life.  I thought it would be fitting to share with you as we begin our journey through this new year ahead.  It’s my prayer for myself this year and my petition for you as well.

“Ordain me to Thy service, Lord;

Baptize me with Thy power divine,

And help me for my future days

To make my will entirely Thine.  

 

“For twice a score of years Thy hand

Has led Thy child along the way;

Oh, how Thy patient love has born!

Oh, how Thy grace has crowned each day!

 

“And if Thy mercy yet can trust

A feeble worm to serve Thee still,

Ordain Thy child anew this day

To better know and do Thy will.

 

“Correct my thoughts and let my life

Speak louder than the words I say;

And give to me this joy supreme

To know I please my Lord always.

 

“Give me the very mind of Christ;

Teach me to pray with power divine;

Baptize my lips with heavenly fire,

And let my messages be Thine.

 

“And may the years Thou still mayest give

Exalt my Lord and make Him known,

Till every land shall hear his Word

And he can come to claim His own.”

The "Real" World

Has anyone ever said to you, "Just wait until you get into the real world"? Over the years of my seclusion in Christian communities such as Crown College and here at Gordon-Conwell (also known as "Holy Hill"), many people have said this to me. The comment never really bothered me before, or at least only slightly, but for some reason the comment has grown more annoying than ever before. I know not why, but I speculate that it stems from my pride rooted deep within--the pride I have in my life experiences and the emotional pain I carry because of them.

The people who make this comment are usually middle class, white Americans who have never really experienced anything more devastating or life altering than the death of a loved one and other such events. Most were raised in loving, caring homes where food was always on the table, the house was always heated, a family member was only a short distance away, life's decisions were relatively black and white. For these people, caring for their family means making enough money to provide nice clothing for the children, money for college, money for the children to be in sports and other school/community activities, and all the things a child might "need" in life, e.g. t.v., computer, toys, piano lessons, nice house, etc. They are loved, cared for, and cherished by their families and friends. I have had this life, and I admit, it has not been what many wealthy people experience, but it was and is nonetheless very good. I never knew a day without food, heat, and comfort, and though there might have been times when my parents felt slight financial burdens, they were always relatively stable.

These people assume that because I have had this life growing up, and because I have never really had a "real" job (which is another annoyance and demands its own blog entry), that I have no idea what the "real" world is and what it is like to live in the "real" world. In the "real" world, at least the one these people have experienced, life demands long work hours to pay for good insurance coverage, the mortgage on their expensive home, the one or two loan payments on their car, expensive vacations, up-to-date technology in the home, other toys for the family (snowmobiles, four-wheelers, boat, etc.). For them, life demands sacrifice in dealing with tough bosses or customers, unfavorable work hours, inconveniences at every corner in life, etc. Yes, these do constitute the "real" world for a typical middle-class white American.

But the real world I have experienced, which most of them know nothing about is the "real" world for most of the world. I discovered this real world through talking with Victor, the homeless man in Lithuania with only the clothes on his back and a spoon to his name who would stop me on the street on my walk to school every day and would comment on how beautiful my hair looked. I discovered it through spending time at the garbage dump outside of Klaipeda, Lithuania, where several hundred people lived in their homes made literally out of garbage. I'll never forget the looks on their faces when we would come to sing with them and bring food--looks of despair and longing. The "real" world was all around me from the moment I left my apartment this past year to go anywhere in the city. The homeless I would sit with, the Gypsy children placed on the street by their parents to beg, and the drunken stupor of men on the street in an attempt to blind them of their troubles all confronted me as the "real" world. I do not only remember and carry with me the faces of all these people and their pains, but also those who had a home and food and were simply trying to do what is right in the world. The numerous conversations I had with my roommates in Lithuania regarding how within ten years their families would be without work and potentially without a home simply because they were Russian sticks with me. The stories I heard from my Albanian friends about the war they have experienced will stay with me always. My student and friend Denis' questions about whether he should give in to the corruption of the government that stifles all that could potentially be good about the future of Kyrgyzstan is fresh in my mind and on my heart. Ethical questions in general in all parts of the world that people are faced with daily is the "real" world. I know how my friend Lilly has faced the rejection of her family simply because she has decided to follow Jesus--something unthinkable here in America. And I can't count the number of tears I saw on the faces of the women at the old folks' home in Bishkek--women so rejected by their families that they would one day die completely alone and receive no funeral.

Someday I will write a book and discuss these realities more in depth and give numerous more examples. For now, this must suffice as evidence of my experience in the "real" world. These things have been on my heart daily, and will continue to be for years to come. I somehow carry the grief's, pains, questions of torment, etc. of these people I have been faced with and their life stories. To me, this is the real world. No, I might not know the exact cost of a root canal without insurance to cover it, or how much of an inconvenience a bad boss or customer might be. But I know the "real" world in a way that most of these white Americans do not understand and will probably never know for themselves. The "real" world is not something most middle-class white Americans know anything about. Praise God that I am not at the place where I resent the fact that people feel freedom to say this to me in a condescending manner, but it is definitely very annoying and frustrating, and something I will probably have to live with for the rest of my life.

Why This Title?

"FINDING MAGIC IN THE MUNDANE"

With every year I live, every foreign and unknown place I visit, and every experience I have, I realize more and more how life is basically made up of a slew of mundane events happening over and over. Some days we realize how mundane and routine they are, but most days we think nothing of it, doing whatever it is that occupies our days as a prisoner of habit. Just think of the events of your life that seem to occur each and every day, often at the same time and place. The necessities of life take up most of the time: grocery shopping, laundry, doing dishes, bathing, cooking, exercising, brushing teeth, eating, sleeping, cleaning, working, etc. For most people, there is no escaping these daily, or at least weekly tasks, and for many, these tasks are done not only for themselves, but also for their family. But there are also non-necessities that seem to become habits for us, leading us deeper and deeper into a mundane life--watching television, reading, emailing, talking on the telephone, blogging :), watching movies, etc. Eventually, life seems to bring the same routine, same habits, same events, day after day. To a certain extent, there is no escaping these, or at least those deemed "necessary."

What is life all about and what makes it special? Is there magic to be found in the everyday routines that make up what we call life? I believe there is and it is right under our noses, if we were only to wipe away the fog that has covered the lenses of our eyes, having built up after days of mundane living. God did not place us here to live mundane lives, but to live life to the fullest, finding blessings in the simplicities in life, seeing His hand at work in the back alleys, taking pleasure in the gifts He has given, making memories of people, places, and things He places around us. There is always something more special going on behind the scenes of our humdrum lives. As much of a reality as it is that our lives become routine and habitual, that doesn't mean that these events should be void of all meaning and magic; for, there is some dose of magic in everything. A simple joy in the routines of life can bring about the often stifled magic. I believe with all my heart that God did not create us and place us in these lives simply to live humdrum lives of habit and routine, but instead, to live these lives with a sense of joy, a sense of purpose, a resounding praise and glory toward Him, with full knowledge that He is at work and doing something behind the scenes bigger than our eyes can perceive. Life is magical if we will only uncover the magic of it.

So this is the reasoning behind "Finding Magic in the Mundane." Life here in Bishkek is as mundane and humdrum for me as it is in America, if not more so. My schedule is quite the same with every passing day, being filled with some random events from day to day, but each day as a double shot review of that previous. Wake up, read and pray, run, swim or walk, decide what to eat for breakfast (bread, yogurt, apple, cream of wheat, or egg), plan lessons, go to the bazaar (get ripped off), wash clothes by hand (if the water is on), do dishes (if the water is on), print lessons (if the printer works and the power is on), send a letter (if the poshta is open), go to class (teach lazy students, hope that the VCR works, hope for a decent chalkboard), go to office to send an email (if the computer is free, if the computer is working, and if the internet is working), come home (get hassled by people on the way), decide what to make for dinner, make dinner in the one frying pan or small pot (also used as a mixing bowl and a serving bowl), throw out the milk (three days old), take out the trash (of used toilet paper) on the way to class again (teach tired students), come home to flat to sit in darkness and read by candlelight (because power is off), boil water for drinking the next day (if the water is on), try to call a friend (if the phone works), decide to go to bed at 9:30pm because there is simply nothing else to do, wake up at 3:00am (by crying baby upstairs or drunk, rowdy men outside), wake up at 6:30am to do it all over again.

As exciting as it sounds to live overseas, and maybe scary for some, it is not all that exciting after the first couple months, especially if you have no close friends to share it with. Life got mundane here very quickly and has continued to be ever since. This above is a fairly accurate picture of life here for me, with the exception of the power and water seeming to be always turned off. In reality, they are off between one and three times a month on different days each. Everything else is a daily, or at least weekly hassle. You get used to it after a while. It's mundane. Boring. Humdrum. Unexciting. But at the same time, there is something special in it that I only see when I allow myself to see it. I have to make myself wipe away the fog over my eyes in order to see the magic that lies beneath the seeming meaninglessness or humdrumness of everything. It is there and there is joy, pleasure, and meaning... magic to be found. I must only look.