Lately I’ve been
wondering how much latitude God gives his servants in choosing how they go
about doing his work. If you read either Testament carefully, it seems like it
could be an awful lot.
Now, bear in mind that
from John Calvin’s perspective, it is really God doing everything that is done
in the universe. I don’t think he ever used the word “pawn” (which might have
been the most honest way to describe how he thought God treats his creatures), but in
effect he taught that sentient beings, good or bad, cannot really act contrary to
the will of God. God’s determinate counsel initiates and controls every transaction in the universe — “all events whatsoever”, as Calvin put it.
I’m not operating on
that wavelength at all, so disciples of Mr. Calvin may want to take a
pass on the following musings.
The Musing Stage
And I’m really only at
the musing stage at this point. Let me back up and tell you where I’m coming
from here: I have been convinced for years now at the most basic level that
importing determinism into the pages of holy writ simply does not work.
Never mind the thorny
theological problem of making God the author of sin. The theory has more
fundamental flaws built into it.
For one thing, the
presence of commands in scripture
makes no sense from a determinist viewpoint. Why tell us to do things or not do
things if all our responses are already preordained? For another, the frequent authorial
notations in the Bible that specific events or choices made by men occurred because heaven so directed. Such comments make no sense if, in fact, God already does absolutely everything
at every moment.
I’m not going to make
a full defence of my position here because others have done in better (not to
mention at book length), but I simply want to point out that my objections to
Calvin’s views on this subject amount to considerably more than a few divergent interpretations of a small number of New Testament verses having to do with foreknowledge and
predestination. They go to the most basic levels of interpersonal communication.
Actions and Consequences
I find objections to
determinism from Genesis to Revelation, and particularly as I observe how God
has distributed his authority throughout the universe both to sentient beings
(like angels, kings, elders and fathers) and into mechanical processes (like
gravity and the Second Law of Thermodynamics). Apart from the very occasional
divine intervention in response to prayer and the rare exercise of
executive privilege when his ministers fail repeatedly and egregiously to do their jobs, God leaves his agents to operate in the world pretty much as they may. Most
notably, this includes the “god of this age” himself, whose personal choices throughout history have been markedly divergent
from those that would please the sovereign God.
In other words,
actions have consequences, and sometimes those consequences are inconsistent
with the revealed will of God and certainly inconsistent with what we might
consider the most desirable outcome. I cannot escape the conclusion that
despite not desiring these things to occur, God allows them to happen anyway,
presumably because knowing and loving and being loved by created beings that
possess real agency is more important to him than the effects on us of guns,
knives, tidal waves and plane crashes, which — according to Christian theology —
though real and often immensely painful, are temporary.
The Way to Dusty Determinism
And yet, despite these
convictions, I’m afraid determinism still rents a little corner of my head that
I have not got around to dusting until recently; to be specific, in connection
with the prophets.
I think I have had it
in the back of my mind, quite inconsistent and unconsidered, that in granting
miraculous powers to men, God reserved to himself the right to overrule their
actions; some kind of last-minute veto over any unreasonable use of his power they
might opt to exercise in his name.
Something like
Christian prayer, when if we ask in his name (or, as I understand it, in accordance with his will, or “that the Father might be glorified in the Son”),
then we are assured God will act in answer to our prayers.
There’s kind of an
implicit divine veto there, isn’t there? Even if we forget to add, as the Lord Jesus did, “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done,” most Christians kind of accept that a request outside the revealed will of God
and inconsistent with his character is simply not going to be honored.
The Implicit Veto
One cannot truly ask
for a fling with the hot twenty-something next door “in his name”, or for the
violent death of an enemy “in his name”, or for a million bucks “in his name”.
How exactly would any such request glorify the Father in the Son?
There is an
implicit heavenly veto to all Christian prayers, and I have always kinda figured it applied
to the Old Testament prophets as well; that if a prophet asked for something
and received it, by definition both the request and the result HAD to be
pleasing to God. Otherwise, God would have just exercised his veto, right?
Maybe. But now I’m
wondering about that. Take Elisha’s bears (please). They’re theologically
difficult for some.
The Bear Facts
To set the stage here,
Elisha’s mentor, Elijah, has just been taken up alive to heaven in a whirlwind,
and Elisha has been granted a double portion of his master’s spirit. So he tries
this new endowment of divine power on for size: he parts the Jordan with the
cloak of Elijah crying out, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” and walks through the river on dry ground to the other side.
Wow. Whaddya know? It WORKS.
The sons of the
prophets are on the other side of the river, and they are suitably impressed
with this display. “The spirit of Elijah rests on
Elisha,” they say, and they bow to him. But they kind of miss the point of the
exercise. They want to send out a fifty-man search party to find the old
prophet, figuring that God’s chariots and horsemen may have dropped his body
into a mountain or a valley. Not likely, says Elisha, and he tries to persuade
them Elijah is really gone.
Of course they can’t find him. But you see
the problem. If even the sons of the prophets can’t quite grasp what’s
happened, how is the average person in Israel going to react to the fact that
God’s authority is now vested in Elisha? Probably with rank disbelief.
Bear With Me a Moment
And disbelief is what Elisha immediately
encounters. He has hardly left Jericho to go to Bethel when a group of boys come
out of the city and jeer at him. So Elisha turns and curses them in the name of
the Lord, and we read that “two she-bears came out of the woods and tore
forty-two of the boys.”
That’s some nasty payback there, and we might wonder if it was really justified. More, we might wonder if this was
really God’s idea — or if it was Elisha’s.
Personally, I am entirely persuaded that
God is neither trivial nor arbitrary in his judgments, but rather loving and
good. He cares about human life, and animal life to boot. He never uses the equivalent of a tactical nuke (or a couple of crazed
she-bears) on his enemies when something less will do the job, or when
repentance is an option.
So on one hand, the sneaky closet
determinist in me figures God would have exercised his divine veto if he viewed
Elisha’s curse as inappropriate, and that part of me accordingly prepares to attempt
to defend God’s reputation with a bunch of relevant details and apologia. On the other
hand, there’s another part of me that believes God fully respects and honors
the prophetic authority he has granted to men even when they might overstep their
mandate a little. That part of me finds itself balking at attributing the bears
to anything other than the prophet’s bad temper.
So tell me which of the following scenarios
you prefer.
The Closet Determinist Opines
First scenario: It’s not impossible God was fully in sympathy with Elisha’s curse.
I say this for a several reasons:
- First, the chant, “Go up, you baldhead!” may initially appear a trivial and personal insult to us, but what the crowd is really saying is that Elisha is a liar. They are mocking his testimony about the ascension of Elijah. They are denying God’s power and refusing to acknowledge Elisha’s (and therefore God’s) authority. As such, God had a strong vested interest in making it known in Jericho and throughout Israel — for the good of the nation, if nothing else — that he was unequivocally present in the ministry of Elisha.
- Second, the words “small boys” and “children” in the passage may be a bit misleading. These kids were probably not six, seven and eight. “Small” is frequently translated “younger” and “lesser”. It’s a relative term, not an absolute. “Boy” is also a relative term in Hebrew; it is used of Shechem, who raped Dinah and was probably close to twenty. And “children” has the broadest semantic range of all, primarily denoting family relationship rather than pinning down a specific age. The fact is, we do not know how old these kids were, but they were likely as responsible for their actions as the teens who fought for their countries in WWII.
- Third, they were thugs. If the bears tore forty-two of them, this was a pretty sizable gang. They vastly outnumbered and probably intimidated poor Elisha no matter what age they may have been. And when you go out in public to act as a mob, my feeling is whatever you get back in return is probably coming to you fair and square.
The argument can be made that Elisha’s curse
was an entirely reasonable response to a bunch of potentially violent,
unbelieving teenage thugs in desperate need of a serious spiritual lesson. But if I were to make that case, I’d really be doing it
because I think I need to; because I think God would have exercised his divine
veto if his servant’s request was … er … unprophetable.
Better and Worse Uses
Second scenario: God gave discretionary authority to his prophets, and sometimes his
prophets used it more wisely than at others.
This explanation is awfully convenient for
those who read the passage to suggest that Elisha sicced wild animals on a bunch of innocent little boys just having a bit of fun,
in that it eliminates the need to account for the fact that God didn’t step in
and overrule Elisha’s curse. This way God can remain ‘good’, while Elisha gets
to be the guy with poor impulse control. The very convenience of the argument makes
me reluctant to trot it out.
Moreover, other than this incident, such an
explanation seems rather unnecessary. Most of the miracles performed by Elijah (and
the other prophets, for that matter) were either illustrative or highly practical,
and some were a matter of acute necessity. There are simply not a lot of
miraculous prophetic acts to point to in the Old Testament that we might call
frivolous, or that might lead us to question whether they were actually consistent
with God’s will.
Still, God has a track record of standing
with his servants even when they don’t have their best day on the job. Moses struck the rock in the desert in a fit of pique, destroying the intended symbolism of the act and
disobeying God in the bargain, and yet God stood behind his choice despite
Moses’ sin. He brought water from the rock for the people despite the fact that
his servant had fallen short. His punishment was a private matter between him
and God. Samson was a train wreck who broke his Nazirite vow over a woman and
lost his God-given strength, yet God heard Samson’s request to be avenged against his enemies.
I’m not sure I’d rule this one out.
God’s Fellow Workers
Sometimes, let’s face it, God’s people are
a wretched testimony to his grace and glory. But I must confess I love the idea
that God uses us despite all our weakness, frailty, selfishness and frequent
stupidity. I love the idea that he can overrule us any time he pleases, and yet sometimes — perhaps often — simply doesn’t. I love that he allows us to serve as real, meaningful
co-workers possessed of genuine agency and not just pawns bumped about on a celestial
chessboard.
At least I think so. You be the judge.
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