I take it as part of human nature that we interpret the world through signs and symbols, and those of us with religious faith see events and images in the world as signifying the divine. We are also dangerously prone to see signs of God where none exist and, therefore, to draw dangerously false conclusions about God. I received an email yesterday containing a picture of ruins in Haiti in which a crucifix stood unmoved and undamaged after the earthquake. A caption accompanying the picture stated that God had left this crucifix standing as a sign that he remains in control. I can fully appreciate needing to take comfort in God’s presence amidst an overburdening tragedy and needing to find great hope in small comforts, but this well-meaning caption has it all wrong.
God didn’t leave the crucifix standing anymore than he left thousands to die horribly. I know this because the God I know doesn’t value a man-made image of himself more than he values those he made in his image and likeness. It makes no sense to say that God allowed a work of art to survive amidst mass death as a sign of his control. To say such a thing implies that God cares more for stone structures than for human life, more for signifying his control than for signifying his love. The truth is that God is not some cosmic engineer keeping the whole system in balance while disasters strike from left and right. God’s presence in the world isn’t so much that of control as that of love and shared suffering. He was present during the Haitian earthquake, but not in the undamaged crucifix. He was present in the heartbreak and the loss, in the struggles to survive and the impossible goodbyes, in every prayer and tear, broken body, writhing face, and suffering breathe. He was there in love and in truth, weeping with all those who cried out in horror and confusion. God may be in control, but not because he controls every event in the system. He’s in control because he’s in love – he is love – and he is lovingly and therefore powerfully involved in this messy and disastrous world.
While I do doubt the interpretation given to the crucifix in Haiti, I do think God does sometime preserve images for his own greatness. Just look at some of the miraculous icons and their history. But he does so in such a way they draw people together and end up leading to some great accomplishment.
I don’t doubt that, Henry.
Kyle
Good. Just wanted to have that caveat otherwise you know what will come next ;)
I should, perhaps, note that I do not deny God’s omnipotence or mean to imply that God never prevents disasters; my issue is with misleading figurative images of God such as “God as cosmic engineer.”
I think there is something about the commonly accepted notions of religion and particularly prayer that influences people to believe God is micromanaging human events. It is routine for religious people who survive a disaster to claim that they were saved by God, but it is almost unheard of for someone to claim that God saved them and allowed all the others to die.
While it is claimed that God did not cause an earthquake, or even allow it to happen, few would hesitate to pray for the victims, or pray that the rescue workers find their loved ones. Are we to imagine that God lets a house fall on a family and then leads rescue workers to dig them from the rubble and save them?
The great problem, it seems to me, is that we all are led to believe that by praying, we can convince God to do something other than he would have done.
The interview with the Tebows on the Focus on the Family website begins with Tim Tebow’s father saying he told God that if God gave him Tim (as yet unconceived), he would raise him to be a preacher.
Here is how we got St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital;
Now, did St. Jude help Danny Thomas so he could get a shrine of his own in Tennessee? And how did St. Jude help Danny Thomas? Did he cause him to do his readings better when he auditioned for the part? Did he sabotage the other actors? Or did he influence the person doing the casting to select Danny Thomas?
Few question the intervention of God or the saints and take the whole matter to its logical conclusion. But it seems to me the logical conclusion is that you can bargain with God, persuade him to “change his mind,” and when he makes the tornado veer across the street to avoid your house, he destroys somebody else’s house in order to save yours.
Interesting issues, David. My own position would be that God cannot “change his mind” because omniscience is all-inclusive; everything that God could change “from” and everything that He could change “to” is eternally present to God. Human expectations are infinitely changeable; but not the mind of God.
“Pluck a single blade of grass; use it as a 16-ft. golden Buddha.”
Signs of God’s presence are all around us; always given. All we need do is open our eyes and see them for what they are.
My take on all this is that Danny Thomas’ pledge had more to do with building his character than building a shrine and St Jude accepted his offer to intercede for him on that basis – its always about working out our sanctification and so we make promises in order to be accountable – Does St Jude care about a shrine in his honor? – don’t think so – does he care about converting souls to Christ? – think so – when we pray to God to save us from disaster and we are saved does it mean the death of others? don’t think so – that is human “either/or type of thinking – the mind of God is infinite – we have no idea in our present state of life of why some people die and some live and all speculation towards that end is what Jesus called “troubling ourselves in our hearts” – in other words foolishness….
A fine post, Kyle. And certainly a very thoughtful and sophisticated response to any, let’s say, non-Haitian who might, with a certain haughty sense of facile metaphysical optimism, brazenly pontificate that this is in fact a sign of God’s power even amidst this suffering.
But I wonder – what if we paint the scene thus:
a mother or father who had just lost his children in the quake, suffering physical pain that doesn’t come close to the emotional pain and heartbreak of losing his children, comes across this very crucifix. And suppose that he or she in her suffering reads this sign with the very interpretation you (rightfully) refuted. That is to say, he or she somehow finds immense comfort in seeing the most vivid (to this person) reminder of a God who comes so near as to assume even human suffering into Himself. And because of this, this person senses his or her suffering is not simply removed, but brought before the cross where he or she unites it to Christ and so can utter a “cold and broken Hallelujah” (as Leonard Cohen splendidly wrote).
Now, based upon the thoughtful manner in which you present your position, I am going to assume that if somehow you were to encounter this person, this suffering Haitian mother or father, your only response would be reverent silence (it would, I suppose, feel like being in the presence of holy person). Even if this Haitian were to ask you what you thought of his or her interpretation, you might be so moved to suddenly suspend your theological acumen and instead be-holden to this interpretation, coming as it would be from a much deeper place than either you or I could know vis-a-vis this tragedy.
I suppose this uncovers one important component of symbolism: symbolic meaning is in excess of any one interpretation, and even though there are good and bad interpretations (as I said, yours is good), the context – that is to say, the conditions in which those interpretations live – are just as, if not more, important than the theoretical analysis we may give them, no?
Anyway, just a thought that occurred to me while reading your fine post.
Brendan,
My thanks to you for the thoughtful and challenging comment. I can well imagine the scenario you describe. Were I to encounter such a person, I would not argue against his or her interpretation. There’s a time and a place to debate the significance of signs. Moreover, as the crucifix itself does mean something, does point to a sorrowful and glorious reality to which we profess belief, it can serve as a reminder of many truths and it can mean much subjectively but nonetheless truly to those who come upon it, and I would not dare to downplay the significance of true interpretations, especially by those offered by people in grief. Having myself tragically lost a newborn daughter, I imagine I might venture words of sympathy rather than reverent silence, though my choice here would depend upon what seemed right at the time. On the other hand, I would not likely affirm what I take to be presumptuous or false claims about how God is involved in creation, no matter how comforting such proclamations might be. If I were to offer words on the sign, I would stress my belief in a God humbly bent low in love for his creation, a God who suffers with us, not a God who watches us from a distance or who keeps suffering and joy at the right balance. Of course, my goal would be comforting those suffering, not defending a theological hermeneutics.
Reading meaning into coincidence is a common human activity. Grasping is apparently still preferable to reality – nature is indifferent. It’s not cruel, it’s not merciful. Pat Robertson opined that Voodoo is to blame for “God’s wrath” wrought upon Haiti (and lesbians for 9/11), others think “Adam” and “Eve” are to blame for, well, everything. I think indifference as explanation is less insulting than suffering for something someone else did. I understand why humans want to matter and have some influence on events out of their reach. In reality, it’s wrong place, wrong time. A tsunami wave may hit you, a CIA agent torture you, a drunk driver kill your pregnant wife – and except for “your world”, nothing has changed, no star fell from the sky, not even a rock rolled off another.
If you’re lucky, your death will be relatively easy and someone will mourn your passing. Of course, they’ll be gone, too eventually and not a trace or memory will be left of you. Will there be a “reunion” elsewhere ? It’s an undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns. “We’ll find out” is all I can say about it. Since this place is random and indifferent, another, if it exists at all, may well be just like that. But, since we didn’t exist at one point, it’d make sense that we won’t again at another. Scio me nihil scire.
I haven’t even stopped marveling about existing at all, not to mention on a spinning, racing ball in an endless universe, moving fingers on a Mac, communicating with other beings on said ball – and none of us fall off. As I type, three beings commonly referred to as cats (Augie, Benny and Spaz) are wrapped around me. This communion with another species is astounding. Of course they’d eat my eyeballs, but for the time being they’re snuggly. Maybe I’ll get to the ‘final things’ once I’ve stopped being amazed at the simple things.
Melinda MT,
Do you think St. Jude actually intervened in some material way to make Danny Thomas more of a success than he would have been without supernatural help?
Do you think there is any problem in praying, “Dear God, if I win $150 million in Powerball, I will donate $25 million to help widows and orphans?”
I believe that’s called the “Let’s make a deal” prayer ;-)
As far as interpreting/guessing is concerned, I’ve always liked Ecclesiastes 3:19-22 (turned into a monumental song by Johannes Brahms; he used the excellent Luther translation)
(King James Version)
For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity.
All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?