Welcome to 'Soul Thoughts'

There is a sense of irony in the fact that this movie, told from the point of view of an ageing, frail, and dementia-suffering former Prime Minister of Great Britain, Margaret Thatcher, is called The Iron Lady. Her frailty proves again that life catches up with everyone in the end.

Right from the beginning of her entrance into public life, Thatcher had to fight harder than the vast majority of budding politicians of her time simply because she was a woman. I wonder if this was at least part of the reason that many of her policies were so incredibly harsh. Initiatives such as trying to introduce a flat tax – where everybody, rich and poor, pay the same amount, were rightly not tolerated, not just by the workers of Great Britain, but by many in her own Conservative Party itself. It was policies such as this, borne out of her own determination that people should work hard no matter their background, that ultimately led to her political demise after eleven turbulent years as Prime Minister.

This movie about Great Britain’s first female Prime Minister – played brilliantly by Meryl Streep – tells the story of a woman who is pretty much self-made; someone who rose above societal and cultural norms of the day which said that the harsh world of politics is best left to those who are ‘stronger’ – men. It tells the story of a determined woman who would let nothing get in the way of her own ideas. Her response to the Argentinian invasion of the Falkland Islands in 1982 was portrayed in the movie as one such example of her leadership being done either her way or no way.

As the ageing Thatcher looks back on her own life, one scene takes us back to her time as a young woman when her partner, Dennis Thatcher, proposes to her. After what must have seemed like an eternal pause for Dennis, she only says yes once she makes perfectly clear that she was not going to be the type of wife who was going to stay home and do the dishes, just washing others’ cups (Dennis then explains that this was the quality that he most admired in her). She wanted to be ‘more important’ than that. In the final scene of the movie, we then see a poignant moment in which she stands at the sink washing a cup herself, finally being able to let go of the past and move on with life on her own, without her beloved deceased husband of whom she had been having regular hallucinations. And when she finally and reluctantly says goodbye to Dennis in her mind, she hears him say, ”You’ll be fine on your own dear; you always have been.” And so the self-made, determined woman finally comes to grips with a sense of reality in her world.

Though not referred to in the movie, it was Thatcher who once said that there is no such thing as a society, that we are all just individuals. Such a dog-eat-dog, competition-based foundation for her ideas has shown throughout history to lead ultimately not to a happier society, but to one which is more callous and uncaring. In my opinion – and I fully understand that many will disagree – Thatcher’s policies were reminiscent of those implemented in Victoria by Jeff Kennett in the 1990s; policies which certainly improved the economy, but at the cost of ultimately producing more losers than winners, thereby defeating the purpose of having a stronger economy if less people benefit from it.

For those who lived through the times and can remember them, this movie is an important reminder of a decade of huge change in the world. There was recession, privatisation of public assets on an unprecedented scale, the constant fear of nuclear holocaust, and the eventual fall of Communism. I was only a youth when Thatcher was in charge of Great Britain, but having since learned about her ideology, I am convinced that, while her ideas at a difficult time in British history were not difficult to understand, they created a society which was more divided than united. Such a society will not survive with any harmony in the long term.

This movie of the personal story, rise to power and subsequent reminiscing of the most controversial Prime Ministers in the recent history of Great Britain shows in fine detail how the Iron Lady came to form her ideas of how she could make her country a better one. Recommended.

A friend sent me this article and link to a movie about sex slavery. One of the alarming things is the quote that “we know that porn profits directly fund the acquisition of new women and children being forced into sex slavery.”

Porn is never a bit of innocent, harmless fun. It is not even a victimless crime. Simply, there is nothing good about porn at all. I wrote more about this here some time ago.

I first saw this on Ben Witherington’s website last week. It’s a cracker.

Some telling comments on forgiveness:

“ Counselors tell us to forgive people lest we become embittered and twisted. Thus forgiveness itself becomes a fashionable therapy, all about me.” – Kim Fabricius in Ben Myers’ blog

And this from Tim Gombis:

“Forgiveness is so profoundly powerful and beautiful… Forgiveness doesn’t ask for guarantees… Forgiveness takes the risk… Forgiveness doesn’t fix everything… Forgiveness doesn’t guarantee a Disney ending… Forgiveness doesn’t clean up the whole mess… Forgiveness remains difficult, complicated, risky, and profoundly beautiful.”

This is so powerful, and central to how we view the Gospel. So often we see the benefits to us in living the way of Jesus, thereby making it all about us. It’s the same with the idea that we can’t love others until we love ourselves; it subtly turns it around to make it all about me, which is the very antithesis of the Gospel. As someone said once, Jesus spoke about self-denial, not self-fulfilment. The paradox is that we do gain life by denying ourselves, taking up our cross and following Jesus, but that is a by-product, it is not the end goal. When we make it the end goal, whether consciously or sub-consciously, we are not being loving.

I really like Gombis’ take on forgiveness. Forgiveness forgives regardless of the outcome, whether the person accepts the forgiveness or not. I think a major reason we have got ourselves into the mess of subtly turning the Gospel around is because of a misguided theology that talks about rewards and ‘crowns’ in heaven. In a self-obsessed culture, we have made the Gospel the same, but just in a more subtle way that is done in the name of love.

This is probably why a friend of mine gets blank looks from his theological students when he talks about taking up the cross. They have probably never been taught about unconditional commitment to Jesus. I have particularly found as I have read the Gospels and the letters of Paul that suffering is a way of life and that commitment and perseverance is what is stressed. Hebrews also talks about the heroes of the faith (Hebrews 11) who didn’t see what they wanted but who fought the good fight anyway. They did it because the followed Jesus, because it was right.

The irony of taking up the cross and following Jesus is of course that we do have joy – the joy that is not dependent on circumstances, and the contentment that Paul talks about. Something I realised recently was that Jesus spoke about the joy that he had just after he was betrayed by Judas at the Last Supper (John 15). I find that fascinating. Peter also speaks about joy unspeakable to a people that were apparently suffering greatly, and James talks about counting it all joy when you suffer all kinds of trials. Not what you hear in today’s society, including most of our churches.

The point I am trying to make is that joy is a by-product of following Jesus. Love is always pointed towards others. It is self-denying, self-sacrificing, and in the process, life-giving. Forgiveness is of course about love; it is about wanting the other to be reconciled, so that they can know life. The joy we gain from that can then be shared. We don’t do it to get joy; we do it out of care.

Of course this is often misunderstood by many Christians as being morbid when God wants us to enjoy life. I agree that God wants us to enjoy life and to experience His joy. But joy is never gained when we seek it. The great paradox of Christian faith is that we die to live, that joy comes out of dying.

Sojourners today has a great article from Jim Wallis on biblical politics. The comment that stood out to me was,

“If you work with and for the poor, you inevitably run into injustice. In other words, poverty isn’t caused by accident. There are unjust systems and structures that create and perpetuate poverty and human suffering. And service alone is never enough; working to change both the attitudes and institutional arrangements that cause poverty is required.”

I remember a story a former colleague told once about when his small group watched the movie Bruce Almighty in which the main character gets to play God for a day. The small group discussed what they would do if they had the opportunity to be God for a day, and the main response was that they would redistribute all the wealth in the world so that everyone had the same. But then came the comment that the next day things would be unequal again because of systems that are in place that perpetuate inequality. Thus the need for justice and changing structures, and not just for ‘giving’.

The area which Jim Wallis’ article doesn’t touch on though is that even changing structures does not go far enough, because structures that are run by unredeemed people will corrupt again sooner or later. The sins of the past will be passed on to the current generation and beyond unless a radical change of heart occurs. When someone affirmed a pastor of mine once by saying they would vote for him to be Prime Minister, he replied that the job is too small. Politics cannot bring in the kingdom of God. Only the Holy Spirit working through the faithful people of God can do that.

That is not to say of course that politics is useless. Far from it. Christians have a responsibility to be politically engaged in the way that Jim Wallis describes in the article. The world needs people who stand in the prophetic tradition of the Amos’s, Isaiahs and Jeremiahs. But it also needs those same people to be filled with the Holy Spirit to proclaim the kingdom come, that there is a God of love and justice who is changing things, who is spreading rumours of hope (as those same prophets did proclaim). As C.S. Lewis puts it in the Narnia stories, Aslan is on the move. The yeast is working through the dough; the Spirit is moving in ways mysterious and some not so mysterious. Thank God for his grace that we are being changed and have been invited to be a part of it.

My wife and I recently returned from spending some time in the United States. Having been there a few times now, and having some family over there, I have decided to pen my thoughts on this country of contrasts, of opportunity and of deprivation.

We were in Florida on the 4th of July, and we spent the evening with a few hundred other people watching the fireworks and celebrations. As I watched and took on the reactions of the people, I was impressed by how much Americans love their country, and by how genuinely patriotic they are. While I do believe that Americans go over the top with their sense of patriotism, there is a reason for it, and on the other hand, I don’t think Australia goes far enough with it. And frankly I am sick of people who constantly bag America for this and other reasons when they have probably never even been there. It is easy to be judgmental from afar.

Americans really believe they are the greatest country in the world, not necessarily in the sense of being superior (though of course there are indeed many Americans who believe their country is superior than others; and that attitude is not just limited to those who believe that America is somehow God’s promised land), but in the opportunities they have in this country. Freedom is everything in this land; it is what has made it great. But it has also led to an arrogance that will one day be its downfall. For example, for Barack Obama to say, in response to the recent downgrade of the US credit rating, that “no matter what some agency may say, we’ve always been and always will be a triple-A country” was the height of American hubris.

But despite the claims of freedom that this country is built on, I am convinced that Australia has more freedom than the US. Our health system is not out of reach for millions of our citizens, we do not live in nearly as much fear of a major terrorist attack on our shores, and our level of poverty is generally not as high as in many places in the US.

As I watched the fireworks and was impressed by the love of Americans for their country, I was equally impressed by the view that America does not have a right to impose itself on the rest of the world. No country, however powerful, has that right.

Martin Luther King once made the point that a true patriot is one who loves their country enough to criticise it. He was responding to those who said his criticism of America came out of a hatred of its ideals. King though, loved his country, and wanted it to be the best it could be, to live out its ideals of equality and freedom for all. His criticism did not come out of any resentment or an attitude of judgmentalism or superiority. It came out of a dream he had for his country.

Any criticism must come out of a motivation of love. Otherwise it is tainted with self-interest. I tend to think that there will be many people gloating over the problems America is facing at the moment, looking forward to the decline of the American empire. I have to admit I struggle win that myself at times, but it is not the way of Jesus.

It is easy to be seduced by America and the very consumer culture that is the source of many of its problems at present. The ideal of freedom of enterprise, private ownership of property and individual opportunity are the unshakable bottom lines of this nation, and they have provided both opportunity and heavy costs over the years.

My relationship with America is one of both love and anger (as opposed to hatred; I don’t believe in hatred). Having a brother who has lived there for half his life, and having been there myself a few times, I see both sides of what, in my limited opinion, is both good and bad about this country.

One of the privileges we had while in the US recently was watching in person the launch of the space shuttle Atlantis, the final launch of the shuttle. The word ‘awesome’ is bandied around everywhere these day to describe things which are really incredibly mundane. But watching this live was, for me, truly awesome. To watch as people are blasted into space was to realise, as my brother who was with me at the time said, that this is the very frontier of exploration. It was estimated that 750,000 people lined up on the Florida coast that July morning. It was a sight to behold, seeing the enormity of what a country can do in terms of technology. No wonder the patriotism on that day was so strong.

It must always be remembered though that, while this technological brilliance of America has certainly driven its innovation, it has been at the expense of social safety nets for the millions of less fortunate and less free, those who miss out because of billions of dollars spent on the space program.

Perhaps my response to the shuttle launch was also linked with my thoughts on the cultural hegemony of this nation. When we were in America, it hit me about how much we are infiltrated by American culture through television. It is so constant that we aren’t even aware of it. This cultural hegemony is largely what makes America so powerful. Through television, American culture has for years been exported around the world. The idea of American freedom and the American way of life has been shown to billions around the world, non-stop, 24/7, and, quite simply, it is part of our identity. That is why, when many people visit certain parts of the US, it feels familiar, they feel like they know the place; there is a level of comfort with the surroundings. Such familiarity also gives America more power. Image and perception is everything, and the America that is exported around the world is the America of Hollywood and dreams, whereas the other side of America is often hidden, for instance the side that has 46 million of its citizens living in poverty. This is one example of the lack of liberty that many people experience in the land of the free.

A final word must be taken from the Gospels. America was founded on the belief of many that they were a nation blessed by God, a light on a hill. And the constant refrain we hear from American Presidents at the end of every speech is ‘God bless the United States of America’. Well, my word toAmericais “be careful what you pray for.” The God in whom the Pilgrim Fathers placed their faith said “blessed are the poor, blessed are those who mourn, and blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.” The way of Jesus is inevitably the way of suffering. And this is the tension with which America lives. It is truly a remarkable nation, one that has given much good to the world, but it is also one which has inflicted untold suffering on innocent millions in the name of the very freedom which it proclaims to the world.

The psyche of America is indeed a wounded one. Today of all days the nation will be feeling this. The Founding Fathers seemed to have great motivations for the new country, but it has been greatly misguided over the years, leading to equally misguided hatred on the part of those who would destroy it.

On the statue of Liberty in New York harbour, the sign proclaims “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”. And in Matthew 25 when the nations are brought together, it will be those who treated these very people as Christ did who will go into the glory set aside for them. Will America heed the call? On this day when many are mourning, may God truly bless the United States of America.

Ned Kelly has been in the news again here, with news that his skeleton (minus the skull) has finally been found. Australia has tended to glorify great losses and disasters, and the underdog, whether they were successful or not. Consider Gallipoli – nothing less than a military disaster – but enormously significant for its stories of heroic sacrifice and mateship. Simpson and his donkey is another one. And of course Ned Kelly is another. A bushranger who lived a tough life, doing his best to make ends meet.

Opinions are strong and rife about the legacy of Ned Kelly. As Steve Grace sings, ‘some say he was a good man, some say he was a bad man, some say he was just fighting to be free.’ Whatever our thoughts about the man, some things need to be called for what they are. Ned Kelly’s crimes can never be excused. They can be understood but never excused. However nor can the circumstances of his time. His was an incredibly hard life. From reliable reports of the time, he was not given a fair trial and should never have been allowed to hang.

Another thing we need to get straight is our tendency, even amongst some Christians, to glorify Ned Kelly as an Aussie hero because of his rebellion against injustice. And in so doing so we tend to overlook his crimes. There is indeed a Christlikeness about his standing up for what he believed in, for taking a stand. But the path of violence is always the path of death. That’s another reason why I love Jesus. In contrast to Ned Kelly, Jesus took the path of least resistance and in the process exposed the weakness of violence.

Whatever we think of Ned Kelly, I reckon the following lyrics ask some pretty good questions when considering his place in Australian folklore.

‘Edward Kelly’ by Steve Grace 

There was a man born in this land on 1855

Edward Kelly was his name

Raised by a poor man, and hated by the law man

‘Til they laid him in his grave

Brought up in the hard times on a farm in Victoria

He learned to fight for all that he believed

And with his brother Daniel, Steven Hart and Joseph Burns

They lived and died with rebel dignity.

Some say he was a good man, some say he was a bad man. Some say he was just fighting to be free

Were those who judged him of his crime

As guilty when you draw the line between the chains of hell and liberty.

And sometimes I wonder why, Edward Kelly

Sometimes I see you riding with the boys

And sometimes I wonder why, Edward Kelly had to die

Is the justice done when the jury makes its choice

Some say he was a good man, some say he was a bad man. Some say he was just fighting to be free

Were those who judged him of his crime

As guilty when you draw the line between the chains of hell and liberty.

And sometimes I wonder why, Edward Kelly

Sometimes I see you riding with the boys

And sometimes I wonder why, Edward Kelly had to die

Is the justice done when the jury makes its choice

Is the justice done when the jury makes its choice

Is the justice done when the jury makes its choice

Is the justice done, is the justice done

There is a line in the famous movie Ben Hur in which one of his relatives goes to hear Jesus speak. She comes back enthralled. The way she describes Jesus is by saying that he is like no one she has ever met before – he speaks words of life.

And so he did speak words of life. And the Gospel writers add that he spoke as one who had authority. The Message version interprets this as meaning he lived out what he spoke. Your life will have impact most powerfully when you live what you speak. And Jesus is the perfect example of this. Over 2000 years he has captivated people of all races and colours. There is something about this man that is like no other. He speaks words of life and he lived those same words. He loved his enemies, he walked the extra mile, he denied himself, took up his cross and lived a life of obedience to the Father.

Our lives speak, whether we like it or not, and whether we think so or not. We are either speaking life or we are speaking death. Everyone has a worldview. This is what the debate about religious education in Australian schools earlier this year was about. Some have been insisting on Christianity being taught because it provides an overarching view of existence. What the proponents of a secular view seem to miss is that they are equally supporting a worldview, one which is not based on a spiritual view of the world. They want values-based education, as if that is somehow less biased than a religious-based view. Everything in our lives speaks something, whether we realise it or not.

If we want to have impact in our lives we need to live out love. As has been pointed out by many wise people over the years, talk is cheap. This is much of the problem with our theology. In the end you can have all the theology in the world but if you have not love you are nothing. If you’re like me and you love theology, you need to be very careful that your theology doesn’t become your master. Because ultimately the best theology is born out of a life of love. Love is the bottom line, not theology. We don’t get our theology right first and then live out of that. Jesus says “follow me” and that is where we learn our theology.

Love is about sacrifice. We come closer to God by living it out a life of sacrifice, of denying ourselves, taking up our crosses and following Jesus. In terms of theology, ours is a ‘doing’ theology. It is more about orthopraxy than orthodoxy. This is how the theologies of liberation in Latin America started. They were born out of deep suffering. As Jayakumar Christian, National Director of World Vision India, points out in his book, God of the Empty-Handed, “this theology (liberation or Dalit theology) is a call for theologians themselves to be converted, abandoning their ways and entering into the life of their neighbours, particularly the poor.” Good theology is useless unless it is applied.

It may surprise some readers that it is in John’s gospel that the call to a ‘doing’ theology is emphasized most. In evangelical circles this gospel is usually the one given to new Christians to give them a grasp of what it is to have eternal life and to believe in Jesus. But while proper belief is (rightly) emphasised by most evangelicals, I wonder how many new believers are taught the fact that, all throughout John’s gospel, faith is a verb. In John, the phrase ‘to believe’ is mentioned nearly a hundred times, and not once is it mentioned as a noun. It is a ‘doing’ word. So when John finishes off his wonderful gospel by telling its readers that it has been written that they may believe that Jesus is the Son of God and that by believing they may have life in his name, what he is really saying is that believing in Jesus cannot mean anything else but living out your faith. For John, believing in Jesus has nothing to do with mere intellectual assent. If we believe that faith in Jesus means nothing more than accepting him as your personal Lord and Saviour, we are not believing the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Whilst John’s gospel is one of the more popular books of the New Testament for us evangelicals, the letter of James is possibly the least, mainly for its apparent over-emphasis on works. But the overarching message of James is, just like John, that faith is a verb. Both James and John affirm that faith without works is dead. James affirms John’s message that believing is more than intellectual assent by pointing out that the demons ‘believe’ too, and shudder. And John likewise affirms James’ message by emphasizing that the way to have life in Jesus’ name is by living it out, not by just saying you believe he is the Son of God. Both John and James believe in a ‘doing’ theology – a theology of love.

Belief and action can never be separated in the life of the real Christian, just as they were never separated in the life of Jesus. This was shown most beautifully earlier this year in the uprising in Egypt when we saw the inspiring images of Christians protecting Muslims while the latter were engaging in their daily prayers. Such an action would have no doubt been criticized by some Christians as heretical as it would be seen to be condoning idolatrous action. But, to the contrary, this was love in action. It was loving your neighbour and laying down your life for your friend. I have no doubt whatsoever that Jesus would have been right there with those Christians who linked arms protecting their Muslim brethren in those frightening days in Cairo.

A similar story to the beautiful one we saw in Egypt is told in the movie The Imam and the Pastor. This true tale tells of a Muslim Imam and a Christian pastor in Nigeria who were once bitter enemies, literally trying to kill each other, and encouraging their people to do the same. But after some time they saw the futility of their actions and instead wondered how they could resolve their differences and stop the killing. They eventually started to work together for peace in their battered country. They don’t agree with each other’s beliefs but they have matured enough to see past that and work for reconciliation between their people. When I first saw this movie, my blinkers went up and I struggled with the apparent ‘compromise’ the pastor was falling into by agreeing to work with a Muslim. Shouldn’t he be sticking to his beliefs and showing Jesus to this Muslim Imam? Then it dawned on me. He was in fact doing exactly that. He was putting his faith into action, just like John’s gospel says. He was loving his neighbour and living out his love for Jesus.

Our ultimate aim in life is to become more loving. Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love God and love our neighbour. As N.T. Wright says in Surprised by Hope, “Love is not our duty, it is our destiny”. This is the end of life. And it is only through living a life of following the greatest love the world has ever seen that we get our theology sorted out. It matters what we believe, and right believing only comes from following the One in whom we find the grace to love, the One whom we love because he first loved us. This is what love is, that he laid down his life for us. Love is action, faith is a verb, and only from this comes our best theology.

In the U2 song, Peace on Earth, Bono sings of his frustration about our constant talk of peace without it ever really happening. Peace, peace, when there is no peace is the cry of the prophet he is echoing. All around we see power corrupting and people in power getting their way at the expense of those with no power. Over and over again it happens.

I have no trust in political and economic systems. Ultimately I trust more in Jesus, whose power did not corrupt and through whom our desires for power are redeemed. John Smith asked a question many years ago which is a challenge for everyone who claims to be a serious follower of Jesus. The question is this: who are your friends and who are your enemies? The point he was making is that, when you look at the life of Jesus, his friends were overwhelmingly the powerless, the marginalised and the oppressed. And his enemies were overwhelmingly the rich, the powerful and the oppressors. If our friends and enemies are the same type of people who Jesus had as friends and enemies, then chances are that we are following Him and can claim the name ‘Christian’. If our friends are the rich and powerful, and our enemies are the poor and powerless, then it is pretty much certain that you are not following Jesus and cannot legitimately call yourself a Christian. Harsh words, but I defy anyone to tell me that what I am saying is not biblical.

Another question that John Smith has asked is along similar lines. It is a study of Jesus’ encounters with the powerful and the powerless, and whether they were positive or negative encounters. Not surprisingly with Jesus, his encounters with the poor and powerless were overwhelmingly positive, whilst his encounters with the rich and powerful were overwhelmingly negative. Jesus was constantly in trouble with the authorities, and at the same time, the common people heard him gladly (Mark 12:37).

Until the day Jesus returns there will be injustice and abuse of power in this world. Humanity is too sick to change itself on its own. Martin Luther King knew this. On the day that President Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas, King told his wife that the same would happen to him one day, because society is too sick to know any better. Tragically, this great prophet of the 20th century was right, cut down himself only five years later, one more person who stood up for the powerless being silenced in the ultimate manner.

I feel a deep sadness and frustration when I see the powerful abuse their power at the expense of the powerless. A clearly guilty white collar worker gets off because he can afford the best lawyers; executives give themselves huge bonuses while they decry any request for a pay rise by those lower down as dangerous for the economy, and politicians share the perks of office while their constituents struggle each day to make ends meet.

Who can we believe in any more? Who is trustworthy? And here is where I point the finger at myself. Am I trustworthy? Do I abuse my power to get what I want at the expense of those who don’t have the resources that I do?

It is at the times when I hear of power being abused that my faith in Jesus is strengthened. He is the only one who is ultimately trustworthy; He walked his talk, he lived out the courage of his convictions, and when abused himself, he continued to show the way of love. In him is our trust ultimately not misplaced. In him is our only salvation.

Conclusion

A book which takes on such a difficult topic as the relationship between God and natural disasters can leave one with a feeling of helplessness. This book however ends on a strong note of hope. As mentioned above, the promise of God is of a new heaven and a new earth where all suffering will be no more. Fretheim points out from the life of Jesus that while he stilled storms and healed people, he didn’t do this in all cases. He didn’t heal everyone in his vicinity for example. Instead,

“Jesus’ actions point to a future world, thereby signalling that the kind of world Isaiah envisioned is on its way. Jesus provided signs of a different future that God has in store for the natural world.”

The relational, loving character of God is what comes through most in this book. This is quite an achievement in a book about the relationship between God and natural disasters. From the very beginning, God has wanted us to be co-creators. This means that, to a very significant extent, the future is in our hands. As Fretheim says,

“The future is partly settled and partly unsettled. It is partly settled, yes: there will be a new heaven and a new earth. But the future is also unsettled: our words and deeds in our world will make a difference in the shape of creation’s future.”

The issue of God and natural disasters is one that has perplexed the most inquiring of minds for thousands of years. It has led many to faith and many away from faith. In the end there is mystery and we can never fully fathom the ways of God. What we can do though is trust, and, like Peter, when asked by our Lord if he wanted to join those who were leaving Jesus, responded, “to whom else would we go; you have the words of eternal life.” Fretheim’s book encourages us to trust in a God who is good, despite what we see around us, despite the indescribable pain of those in the midst of suffering. His explanations are biblical, well thought through and compassionate. I recommend this book to anyone seeking to understand how it is that we can worship a God of love in a world where disasters fall indiscriminately on the just and the unjust.

Recommended further reading:

• Christopher Southgate, The Groaning of Creation: God, Evolution, and the Problem of Evil(Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2008)
• Jon Sobrino, Where is God? Earthquake, Terrorism, Barbarity, and Hope (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2004)
• Terence E. Fretheim, God and World in the Old Testament: A Relational Theology of Creation(Nashville: Abingdon, 2005)
• John Polkinghorne, Quarks, Chaos, and Christianity: Questions to Science and Religion (New York: Crossroad, 1994)