Easter

In keeping with my last post, here is a video of N.T. Wright on the Resurrection:

492px-Rafael_-_ressureicaocristo01

Pope Francis’s Easter sermon apparently was based on Luke 24 and he talked primarily about women and change:

http://talkingpointsmemo.com/archives/2013/03/pope_again_surprises_with_easter_homily.php

Women at the Tomb Jesus Mafa

Michael Card has a song based on Luke 24 too called”The Pain and Persistence of Doubt”. “Why search for the living among the dead?”  The only YouTube clip I could find was a interpretive dance version, and its not Michael Card performing it, but you can find also the song on Spotify or something:

 

 

 

 

And finally “Known By the Scars”:

caravaggio-doubting-thomas

John 20: 19-29: 

19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 21Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’

26 A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ 27 Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ 28Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ 29Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’

Holy Saturday

A few things: First a video from N.T. Wright on Atonement and the importance of the cross.

Brief description of Atonement Theories:

  • Christus Victor (Gustaf Aulen): Powers of evil defeated by Christ’s death. Related to ransom theory in which humans are “bought back”– here’s a description from Philosopher Robin Collins as found on the wikipedia page

“Essentially, this theory claimed that Adam and Eve sold humanity over to the Devil at the time ofthe Fall; hence, justice required that grace pay the Devil a ransom to free us from the Devil’s clutches. God, however, tricked the Devil into accepting Christ’s death as a ransom, for the Devil did not realize that Christ could not be held in the bonds of death. Once the Devil accepted Christ’s death as a ransom, this theory concluded, justice was satisfied and God was able to free us from Satan’s grip.” 

  • Satisfaction Theory (Anselm): Instead of paying the devil, God is being paid. Satisfaction means “making restitution”– “Since one of God’s characteristics is justice, affronts to that justice must be atoned for.” God’s honor has been robbed when we sin, so hypothetically if we stopped sinning, we could pay for lost honor with our life. But we have nothing greater to give than what God already has– he gave us our life, we cannot give him anything more than he gave us. Penal Substitution (Reformers): Therefore, Christ, took on our guilt, but because he didn’t have to, he is able to pay back God’s lost honor through his willing submission to punishment. (There’s lots of varieties to this theory: wikipedia is actually really helpful for this topic!)
  • Moral Influence Theory (Peter Abelard): Positive moral change was brought to humanity not only in the inspirational martyrdom of Christ, but in his life and teachings.

Next, I saw this a few times on Facebook today. Underneath I’ll share the whole Oratorio from N.T. Wright (although it doesn’t have the music included):

On the seventh day God rested
in the darkness of the tomb;
Having finished on the sixth day
all his work of joy and doom.
Now the word had fallen silent,
and the water had run dry,
The bread had all been scattered,
and the light had left the sky.
The flock had lost its shepherd,
and the seed was sadly sown,
The courtiers had betrayed their king,
and nailed him to his throne.
O Sabbath rest by Calvary,
O calm of tomb below,
Where the grave-clothes and the spices
cradle him we did not know!
Rest you well, beloved Jesus,
Caesar’s Lord and Israel’s King,
In the brooding of the Spirit,
in the darkness of the spring.

-N.T. Wright Easter Oratorio 

And third, yesterday I shared with you two Michael Card songs. I would recommend the whole album “A Violent Grace” which reflects on the crucifixion and resurrection. I recommend listening to the version of the song on that album (it previously appeared on the album Soul Anchor, but personally I like it on this album better). The album “Soul Anchor” is a reflection on the book of Hebrews. Here is one of my favorite songs from the album (although I couldn’t find the more recent version on YouTube- this one is technically from  an earlier album), based on Hebrews 4:14 – 5:10 & 7:11-28. Let us give thanks that this high priest was heard.

He was Heard 

Michael Card and Good Friday

If you’ve never listened to Michael Card, you should. He has many albums that are inspired from Scripture.  I’ll share with you two songs for Good Friday, from the Psalms. I encourage you to read the passages themselves, both before and after listening.

Death of a Son (Psalm 22, 69):

Image

How Long? (Based on Psalm 13):

“Hiddenness and wrath are instrumental and intentional divine behaviors; they are means to the goal of reestablishing his betrayed love. When this instrumentality of hiddenness is overlooked, the danger lurks of making the biblical concept of God into a caricature” (i.e., the Old Testament God as one of wrath, and the New Testament God as one of Grace).

-God of the Living, by Feldmeier Spieckermann, p. 340-41.

Ordaining Women

inourownvoicesFor my Women in American Religion class, I am reading from In Our Own Voices edited by Rosemary Keller and Rosemary Ruether. In a chapter on Women’s Ordination, they include a document from the New York Times in 1947 when the PCUSA voted to ordain women clergy. Strange that in some circles, arguments almost verbatim to these words written sixty years ago are still being made:

“Let me first present the main reasons advanced against women in the ordained ministry. The first is a matter of women’s emotional balance, which many feel is not as stable as men’s... Now the pulpit has lived through a century of over-emotionalism, say the folks who feel that today restrained and accurate teaching is desperately needed. The world sits on a powder keg, and not sparks but sober and judicial advice is needed. This they feel, by and large, and with exceptions, men can better deliver

“… what about the young married pastor and her children? Must the church be closed for three months for a number of years while the pastor gets her own little flock? Or will the vows of celibacy be ordered as in the Church of Rome? Even birth control has not been developed enough to synchronize births with the summer vacation.

“Others think that there is a feminine overbalance in the average congregation now. They feel that women pastors would so feminize the church that men would frequent it in even smaller numbers. Women will listen to men ‘tell them off’ for their sins, but men will not seriously do the same for women…”

The author of the NY Times article (Lyman Richard Hartley) then moves to represent arguments for women in ministry, including this one:

“There is a strong point made by those who say that God combines the virtues of both mother and father. It might be that a woman could better depict the former. Just as in the home the balance of family influence is disturbed by removal of either mother or father, the church may be lacking that balanced ministry…”

And I’ll conclude with these encouraging words, given the progress of history since he penned them:

“I have tried to express the opinions of both sides as judicially as possible. I cannot keep a gleam of humor out of my eye when I speak for the negative. I feel that women get what they want, given time, and will get the privilege of the pulpit and the pastorate in the Presbyterian Church as they got the vote in the affairs of the nation.”

Pope Junkie

pope francis

I posted some of these links on Facebook, but I thought I’d compile them here for easy access (especially in my quest to move from Facebook to blogging). Here are some things around the interwebs I found interesting/helpful/ funny regarding the Pope election.

Looking for work? If you want to become Pope, here’s how: http://youtu.be/kF8I_r9XT7A

Here is Stanley Hauerewas on the new Pope: http://erb.kingdomnow.org/stanley-hauerwas-on-the-new-pope-francis-i-video/

What’s so special about being a Jesuit? http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/03/14/my-take-what-it-means-for-one-of-my-brothers-to-become-pope/

Where in the world are Catholics (Or what’s so special about a Latin American pope)? http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2013/02/11/world/europe/the-catholic-church-shifted-southward-over-the-past-century.html?smid=fb-nytimes&WT.z_sma=WO_TCC_20130314&_r=0

List of all the popes (which is more fun to peruse than you’d think): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_popes

Also, check out http://www.catholicmemes.com/ !!! Hilarious, and informative.

different name

Do you use Facebook… or does Facebook use you?

cutcoMy first job out of high school was working at Vector Marketing. You might know the product I sold as “Cutco Knives.” At first, I loved it! The knives are really great, and I use them to this day. The way the job worked was I would call my friends’ houses (back when people had house phones) and talk to their parents, and ask if I could come practice doing a demonstration with them for my job. That part was fun, except for the part when parents would slice parts of their thumbs off… but other than that I enjoyed hanging out with adults and feeling like my seventeen year old self had entered into the world of adulthood. I did really well too; I think my boss was shocked that this sheltered Christian school kid could sell thousands of dollars of knives right off the bat. But it was partly because I was so naive that I sold that much; I genuinely enjoyed hanging out with the adults, and if they bought something, that was just secondary to my enjoyment.

A few weeks into working for them, however, a few things began to plague me. First, I never stopped “practicing.” I would make calls in the office with other sellers around, and people who had been there for years would have the same script as me. The trick was, you get into people’s homes telling them you’re practicing, but then secretly you really want them to buy a bunch so you make a commission. So I began to see people as dollar signs. When I ran out of parents I knew, I had to start going to people who had been recommended to me that I didn’t know. I didn’t have a relationship with them, and as such, if they didn’t buy anything from me, I would get incredibly discouraged. It was literally like a roller coaster; days I would sell I would be high and excited; days I wouldn’t sell would be the lowest of the low.

This week, it struck me that I’ve had a similar relationship with Facebook. For years I have been pretty un-conflicted with how I use it. I have always been a proponent of how it allows you to stay in touch with people from all over the world. I appreciate that I can stay up to date on news, especially if I’m “friends” with the right people (twitter has been useful for that as well).

A few weeks ago, a friend in one of my seminary classes told me she always appreciated the posts I put up. A few days later, a non-Christian family member also told me she follows my posts, even if she doesn’t totally follow whatever I’m talking about. All of a sudden, I realized even if people weren’t “likeing” posts, they might be seeing them. NY Times came out with an article that said every facebook post is seen by 1/3 of your friends. This made me wonder: which third would see each post I wrote? All of a sudden, similar to what happened when I worked for Cutco, I wasn’t posting things for their own sake anymore. I was posting for the sake of how they were received. I wanted those likes.

So this week, I wrote a paper on the problem of evil that I was really jazzed about. “I’m going to put it into a blog, share it problem of evilon facebook, and then the whole world will be convinced of my (brilliant) argument!” I thought to myself. However, despite posting it multiple times, no one “liked” it. It didn’t even get that many views on the blogosphere.

My friend Daniel Camacho recently wrote an article  for the Colossian Forum in which he talks about how it’s been proven that Facebook contributes to higher amounts of envy and lower life satisfaction. This became really clear to me when I did a study on dating and marriage at Calvin College, and one person wrote:

“I have never been in a relationship and last week I was feeling bad about this because a great deal of my friends are in a relationship or are now engaged/married. I am sick of seeing Calvin girls post their engagement pic’s on Facebook.”

Facebook contributed to the culture’s perception that more people were getting married or engaged at Calvin than was actually true (I found that 21% of those in my respondents in the senior class were engaged or married, or about 1 out of 5 Calvin seniors). Those who weren’t in that camp then felt jealous or envious.

Another vice Facebook contributes to is vainglory (for an explanation of this term, similar to pride, see this). Daniel posted an article relevant to this as well, where in a class on Aquinas, they tried to practice counter disciplines to the vices, and for vainglory, the best counter-discipline is silence:

“Practicing silence made me learn new things about myself. Now that I wasn’t able to talk about myself so much (e.g. complaining about my day, bragging about an accomplishment), I realized how much I was captive to doing that very thing. I liked to show off to others, especially on Facebook. As a philosophy student, I liked to win arguments and get the last word in a debate.”

As I realized my need for people to “like” my contributions on Facebook, I realized that I had fallen into the trap of vainglory. Seminary is a difficult place at first (or at least it was for me). All of a sudden, there’s tons of brilliant people who are all well-versed in the same things you are. In college, I appreciated being on a floor community with biologists and sociologists and astronomers who all could share their knowledge with me; and likewise I could be the “Bible/Theology” person that shared my thoughts with them. But here, I have been plagued with self-doubt. Should I speak up in class? Are my papers rigorous enough? Etc. So posting on Facebook was to try and make myself feel confident.

But when no one liked my posts, my confidence fell. As I’m sure you all know, this is not a good system. Our identity should be rooted in God, not dependent on a social media site like Facebook. I wasn’t using Facebook anymore; it felt like Facebook was using me. I think this is especially true for teenagers, although not limited to them. Jamie Smith’s comments from his new book Imagining the Kingdom are helpful here:

“The advent of social media has amplified this [self-consciousness] exponentially. In the past, there would have been spaces where adolescents could escape from these games, most notably in the home… The home was a space to let down your guard, freed from the perpetual gaze of your peers…. No longer. The space of the home has been punctured by the intrusion of social media such that the competitive world of self-display and self-consciousness is always with us. The universe of social media is a ubiquitous panopticon. The teenager at home… is constantly aware of being on display… Her Twitter feed incessantly updates her about all the exciting, hip things she is _not_ doing with the “popular” girls; her Facebook pings nonstop with photos that highlight how boring her homebound existence is. And so she is compelled to constantly be “on,” to be “updating” and “Checking in.” The competition for coolness never stops.”

Imagining the Kingdom: How Worship Works, p. 145

So now, I’ve posted a blog about this. Perhaps it seems like I’m doing this just for likes and accolades once again. But here’s the difference: on Facebook, things are literally just there to be received by “friends.” They show up in people’s feeds, asking for their approval. Blogs, on the other hand, aren’t here today, gone tomorrow, as a post on Facebook is. A blogger can become popular, but doesn’t have to be. Blogs can be more for the sake of the person writing them than primarily finding their meaning and importance in how they are received.

So all of this to say: I am hoping to move from Facebook to blogs. Because I do find things interesting that I want to share with people. After this I’ll post some interesting things surrounding the Pope that I came across this past week. If people find them interesting, then good, but my identity will not be dependent on whether it’s received well or not.

Evil Does Not Exist

A few weeks ago, I reviewed Andrew Root’s four-part series that begins “Taking Theology to Youth Ministry.” He then picks specific theological doctrines to discuss: Atonement (the cross, book two), Revelation (and Scripture, book three), and Eschatology and Mission (book four). These are amazing books, and you can follow the hyperlinks to my two part review. My favorite of the four was by far book two, Taking the Cross to Youth Ministry. It drew me into a conversation of atonement that I had not been exposed to yet, but thankfully I have a seminarian friend who I could dialogue with about Root, who was more familiar with the theologian Jurgen Moltmann, who Root draws from a lot (follow Wes Ellis’ blog here). All this to say, in my review, I did not feel I had enough time to talk about book two in all its complexity.

This post won’t do that either, at least not directly. Instead, I recently wrote a paper on the problem of evil, and I drew from Root and his take on Moltmann near the end. The prompt was, “Is God responsible for the existence of evil? If not, how can he help?” My paper was just over 2,000 words, which is incredibly short for a topic people have been discussing for thousands of years. I will share it with you here, even though a blog format is not conducive to this length, hopefully you’ll stick with me and find this argument convincing. Please share your thoughts with me!! Theology is best done in the context of community.

The problem of evil cannot be discussed without establishing the notion of God’s providence. Evil does not become a “problem” until we assert that God is both omnipotent (sovereign Lord over everything) and good. Providence communicates that notion to us; God is a gracious and good creator of everything. But we also cannot talk about the providence of God without immediately giving rise to theodicy questions. Theodicy means the study of God’s justice. How is it just that a “good” God, in control of everything, allows evil to exist? This is a question that has been asked for thousands of years, so I am not going to be able to do justice to all the complexities of the arguments that have been made. However, I will do my best to succinctly give the arguments that have been most persuasive in my life to prove that God is in no way responsible for evil, and that Christians can be secure in their eschatological hope that one day sin and death will be defeated for good.

First, it is necessary to articulate what is meant by “evil.” Theologians usually separate evil into two categories: “…natural evil—the suffering and evil that human beings experience at the hands of nature—and… moral evil—the suffering and evil that sinful human beings inflict on each other and on the world they inhabit.”[1]

We know that “human life is not the way it’s supposed to be,”[2] when natural disasters kill and devastate large amounts of people, or cancer takes the life of a child. We also see evil that’s explicitly human: when someone is gunned down in the street, or a young woman is kidnapped and raped.

The advent of evil into the world, even natural evil, is believed by Christians to correspond to the advent of human sin into the world. The concept is referred to as “original sin,” and paradoxically “is a universal condition, but it is also a self-chosen act for which we are responsible.”[3] The logic of this argument would be, because human creatures brought sin into the world, they also brought evil, and therefore God is not responsible for the existence of evil: humans are because of their “free will.”

Personally, I do not want to go that route because I do not put as much stake in the notion of “free will” as it is commonly used. Instead, I think it is helpful to draw on Augustine here in his distinction between negative and positive freedom: “freedom is not simply a negative freedom from, but a freedom for, a capacity to achieve certain worthwhile goals” (William Cavanaugh, Being Consumed, 7-8). Free to “do whatever I want” in the words of the Rolling Stones, is negative in the sense that it is freedom from restrictions. Positive freedom, on the other hand, is when we are directed toward a certain telos (goal) that is in line with our true nature. On Augustine’s view, if we are left to our own devices to “do whatever we want,” that is the opposite of true freedom: “I sighed after such freedom, but was bound not by an iron imposed by anyone else but by the iron of my own choice” (Confessions, 140).

Granted, Augustine is offering a postlapsarian view of freedom in which sin has tainted our will and desires, but it seems purely speculative to try and imagine prelapsarian reality and lay responsibility solely on humanity because of their original free will.

Even with that said, this argument does not completely get away from culpability of God, since he created humans and their free will, and would be responsible, albeit indirectly. Migliore’s explanation of process theologians’ argument is relevant here: “God is responsible for evil in an indirect sense, because God has persuaded the world to bring forth forms of life that have the potential not only for great good, but also, because the creature is free, for great evil. While indirectly responsible, however, God is not blameworthy.”[4]

To me, making this differentiation is splitting hairs. If we just admitted God is responsible, albeit indirectly, why is he not also blameworthy? The very definition of the term responsible is, “being the primary cause of something and so able to be blamed or credited for it.”[5] We could argue over primary and secondary causation, and that could be persuasive to some people. But ultimately, here is the argument I want to make: God is not responsible for the existence of evil because evil does not exist.

To say that evil does not exist does not lessen the reality of a world affected by evil. I am not saying that evil is an illusion. I agree with Migliore: “As that which opposes the will of God and distorts the good creation, evil is neither illusion nor mere appearance nor a gradually disappearing force in the world.”[6] Instead, I am making an ontological[7] claim. Instead of viewing good and evil as two equally ontologically powerful forces, Augustine instead adopts from the neoplatonists the concept of the hierarchy of being. The concepts of being and non-being are not like an on-off switch, but instead are like a spectrum: God is the ultimate being, and created things fall somewhere on the spectrum. Angels are closer to God than humans in reference to their being, and saints are closer than sinners. A literary example from C.S. Lewis is especially helpful in articulating this. In The Great Divorce, Lewis has a bus full of passengers from the “grey town” (purgatory or hell, depending on how long you stay) arrive in heaven, but there is a journey each passenger must goes on. When the passengers first arrive, they are ghosts—and heaven is unyieldingly solid. Walking on the grass is unbelievably painful as their unreality meets the reality of heaven. But, as the narrator continues the journey, he finds himself getting more and more solid, or more and more real. His nonbeing gives way to being.[8]

On this model of a hierarchy of being, then, evil does not have its own positive ontological power, but is instead only absence, privation, distortion. Just like darkness has no physical presence and is only the absence of light, so evil is only the absence of good. It is a parasite, and can only take what was already created by God and twist it; if the good were to cease to exist, the parasite could not exist on its own. So far, I’ve just been paraphrasing Augustine:

For what is that which we call evil but the absence of good? In the bodies of animals, disease and wounds mean nothing but the absence of health; for when a cure is effected, that does not mean that the evils which were present—namely, the diseases and wounds—go away from the body and dwell elsewhere: they altogether cease to exist; for the wound or disease is not a substance, but a defect in the fleshly substance,—the flesh itself being a substance, and therefore something good, of which those evils—that is, privations of the good which we call health—are accidents.[9]

This is a persuasive argument because it does not compromise God’s sovereignty, nor does it make him responsible for the existence of evil because, as I said before, evil does not exist. Migliore similarly discusses Barth’s notion of evil: “Evil for Barth is the alien power of ‘nothingness’ (das Nichtige) that arises mysteriously from what God does not will in the act of creation.”[10] Barth does permit that evil has power, and his critics have accused him of allowing humans to be passive in the face of evil, since “evil is viewed as an alien sphere of power within the creation that God alone can overcome,”[11] leaving us to sit and twiddle our thumbs and hope God does something about it. Migliore’s response is spot on: “For Barth it is precisely confidence in the superiority of God’s grace that empowers believers to fight against evil and suffering in the world against seemingly impossible odds.”[12] Evil certainly seems very powerful from our vantage point. But because it is not ontologically primary, and because it only distorts the good, that means, through the power of redemption, the good can be fully restored and evil cast off. Cornelius Plantinga says it this way:

Given its source in God, goodness is original, normal, constructive. Evil is secondary, abnormal, destructive. In fact, evil needs good in order to be evil… evil is a kind of parasite on goodness… Badness can’t be very bad without tapping deeply into goodness. Badness is twisted goodness, polluted goodness, divided goodness. But even after the twisting, polluting, and dividing have happened, the goodness is still there. [13]

Can we be confident that God will, in fact, fully eradicate evil? We have established it is possible. It is not like the world of Star Wars where the force has a good and evil side, and either have the same chance of being victorious, so we are therefore left on the edge of our seat hoping good will win because that would make it a good story. In the real world, we can be confident in The Story, that good has the primacy, clearly, and therefore has the capacity for overcoming evil. But can we trust that God will eradicate evil, once and for all? For Christians, the answer is yes, and we know this because of scriptural witness of God’s work through Christ in the cross and resurrection.

To illustrate this point, Migliore directs us to Jürgen Moltmann. “Moltmann’s intention is clearly to couple emphasis on the suffering of the triune God with hope in the eschatological victory of divine love over all evil and the participation of creation in God’s eternal joy.”[14] This statement deserves some unpacking. Classical theology wanted to shy away from talking about God as “suffering”: to suffer means that God would change, and change would threaten God’s eternality, therefore he is impassible. Creatures change, God does not. However, orthodox Christianity asserts that Jesus was fully divine and fully human, so we then have to talk about the suffering of God: “…what Jesus does and suffers is at the same time the doing and suffering of God… Jesus’ passion and death for us is not just the martyrdom of another innocent victim in an unjust world; it is also God’s suffering, God’s taking death into the being of God and overcoming it there for our salvation.”[15] Not to mention, the scriptural witness is certainly one of a suffering God, which Bonhoeffer points out: “The Bible directs us to God’s powerlessness and suffering; only the suffering God can help.”[16] The suffering God can help his people because he shows solidarity with them by entering the nothingness of the cross.

Youth ministry theologian Andrew Root, drawing extensively from Moltmann, wants to argue that the suffering God on the cross is not an accidental occurrence; the cross is central for understanding who God is. “The cross is God’s very way of being and acting in the world. The cross reveals who God is; this is what makes the cross foolish.”[17] But how precisely does the suffering God overcome evil and suffering on the cross? Root argues:

The mystery of Christian faith is that in losing to death, in being overcome by it, God acts to overcome death.… How is the cross that penetrates and separates God from Godself good news? It is good news because God, in the person of Jesus Christ, has taken on nothingness, abandonment, and hell, and has made such realities the location of God’s presence and action (revelation). It is from the nothingness of death that the good news of the gospel breaks open. From nothingness springs new possibility; from death comes life. God has taken nothingness, abandonment, and hell into Godself as Trinity and, by overcoming them in the power of the resurrection… has brought forth a new reality where from death comes life. [18]

Ultimately, the cross cannot be understood without the lens of the resurrection. If Jesus had stayed dead, death itself would have triumphed. But Jesus did not stay dead, and through his sacrificial love offers us eternal life as well.  Migliore says, “The power of sacrificial love… is stronger than death…. Only a love that moves through the suffering of the cross to the promise of new life confirmed in the resurrection of Christ can be the basis of hope that does not despair.”[19]

Christians who are in the midst of suffering because of the forces of evil can cling to the hope that God has defeated death and evil in the cross and resurrection. But because the cross gives us insight at who God is, we know that God is in solidarity with us in our suffering. Root talks about our “existential ontological state” as being the struggle between possibility and nothingness.[20] As we said earlier, the fall goes all the way down. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said, “The line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”[21] If we are to have any hope of redemption, of the eradication of evil, Root argues that humans need:

a God who in Godself ha[s] entered this struggle, overcoming nothingness with the ultimate possibility of living in the relational love of God—a love that would give them their humanity, give them the dignity and freedom to be human. Because this love has entered death, it provides God’s very presence to all who honestly wrestle with their own impossibility.[22]

God’s triune presence is with us whenever we encounter evil, whether in ourselves or the world around us. The cross and resurrection and the promise of God’s coming kingdom give us the foundation for an eschatological hope that one day we will live in a new heavens and a new earth where evil will disappear from the world for good. It has already been completed: Jesus said on the cross, “It is finished.” Now, with the presence of God in solidarity with us, we can live in hope until the kingdom fully arrives.


[1] Daniel L. Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology, 2nd edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2004), 118-9.

[2] Cornelius Plantinga Jr., Engaging God’s World: A Reformed Vision of Faith, Learning, and Living (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2002), 49.

[3] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 156.

[4] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 129.

[5] Google dictionary, “Responsible,” http://bit.ly/Zw4T0v (accessed March 12, 2013), emphasis mine.

[6] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 118.

[7] Ontology is the study of being, what is real, what exists.

[8] Lewis, C.S., The Great Divorce (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2001).

[9] St. Augustine of Hippo, “On the Holy Trinity; Doctrinal Treatises; Moral Treatises,” in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3, ed. Philip Schaff (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, 1994). http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/npnf103.iv.ii.xiii.html (Accessed March 12, 2013).

[10] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 127.

[11] Ibid, emphasis mine.

[12] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 128.

[13] Plantinga, Engaging God’s World, 52.

[14] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 133.

[15] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 177.

[16] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: Macmillan, 1972), 361. Quoted by Migliore in Faith Seeking Understanding, 132.

[17] Andrew Root, Taking the Cross to Youth Ministry (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 65.

[18] Root, Taking the Cross, 67, 79.

[19] Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 135.

[20] Root, Taking the Cross, 51.

[21] Plantinga, Engaging God’s World, 49.

[22] Root, Taking the Cross, 80.