I killed God.

Some 2,000 years ago, the itinerant Israelite preacher named Jesus was put to death for claiming to be God. He was whipped, scourged, beaten, and then nailed to a wooden cross until he was dead.

Today–“Good Friday”– is the traditional commemoration of the barbaric murder of this one man. While churches around the world will fill to overflowing on the Sunday upcoming as a celebration for the miraculous events that occurred on the first Sunday after the crucifixion, many of those same churches open their doors on this eve to reflect on the somber occasion of the murder that happened that day so long ago.

The doctrines of the faith that bears the moniker of Jesus claims that it is appropriate to engage on solemn reflection on this day because its teachings assert that I am (and are you, too, dear reader) complicit in the execution of this innocent (and correct in all his claims) man.

My first reaction is to object; after all, his murder took place approximately 190 centuries before I was even born.

Yet, the Bible’s historical account of Jesus’ execution reports that when Rome’s occupying governor Pontius Pilate “washed his hands” of complicity for murdering the innocent man Jesus, everyone in the crowd cried out, “Let his blood be on us and our children! (Matthew 27:25)”

The crowd’s self-incrimination was not that they were calling down a curse upon themselves, but that they had assumed responsibility for imposing this death sentence upon Jesus. They were so certain of the appropriateness of what they were doing that they willingly assigned responsibility for this decision upon all the generations that followed them.

All the same, what does that have to do with me? I’m not Jewish and I’m not Roman (or even Middle-European).

Again, I go to the Bible to try to understand the evidence presented in my indictment.

There, I find:

  • that there is no difference between Jew or Gentile. (Romans 3:22, 10:10)
  • that I offend God and rebel against him. (Romans 3:23)
  • that I don’t have anything in me on my own that loves God. (Romans 7:18)

The logical, rational, human mind reasons that this evidence reveals me to be a rebel, but my defense is argues that to be guilty of rebellion doesn’t necessarily mean that I should take the blame for killing Jesus, as if I were the one who picked up the hammer and drove the nails piercing Jesus to the cross.

However, the timeless testimony of the Bible counters my protestations with the reminders:

  • If I break one command, I am guilty of breaking the entire law. (James 1:18)
  • Because I am guilty, I deserve punishment (Nahum 1:3)

It seems rather obvious that the simple solution to this mounting case against me is to simply deny the both the claim and the claimant. I could argue, “but I’m a good person” to the former, and, “the Bible’s untrustworthy” to the latter. Yet, its word overrules both with one reply: “God’s word is living, active, and sharper than any two-edged sword. It penetrates to the point that it separates the soul from the spirit and the joints from the marrow. It’s able to judge the heart’s thoughts and intentions. (Hebrews 4:12)”

And so I fall silent and I allow the Book to read me, which compels me to reflect upon my culpability in the events of Christ’s death-by-crucifixion.

I admit, I have rebelled against God. This confession is my statement of agreement with what God says about me and my conduct. More times than I can count, I have done things, thought things, said things and perceived things against, in opposition to, or contrary to God. Every time this has happened, my rebellion against him is tantamount to initiating to actions to murder God. 

You see, that’s what you have to do in order to be in control of your own life. You have to murder God. And it seems absolutely silly to suggest that such a thing is possible. But if God’s authority is absolute and his sovereignty is complete, anything you do independently of him or in defiance to him is nothing less than an attempted coup.

Today is an important day. It is the symbolic anniversary of the day that God allowed his creation to murder him. He did this voluntarily (1 John 3:16). I am part of God’s creation. I stand accused in the face of overwhelming evidence that convicts me.

I am guilty.

I did, in fact, kill God.

I deserve the punishment appropriate for these selfish, loveless thoughts, attitudes, and actions.

If all of life is simply the long delay in the passing sentence for my deeds, how sad and tragic life would be.

It is here that this same Bible that rightly judges my heart and intentions, also reveals that the innocent blood on my guilty hands for Jesus’ death is the same blood that covers my guilt for all my rebellion against God (see Romans 4:6-8; 1 Peter 4:8).

My rational mind can’t fathom it. I’m guilty. He is innocent. He willingly and willfully came, to lay down his life (John 10:17-18). He lived to die, so that the guilty could be forgiven (Phil. 2:5-11).

Good Friday.

Good God.

When the storm comes – God’s role (part 2)

 When disaster strikes, there are a few predictable negative responses, theologically speaking:

  • “If God is in control, he made this happen.”
  • “God (the cosmic clockmaker) isn’t in control, so he’s not worth worshipping.”  
  • “This is evidence that there is no God.”

Among the many shortcomings of us humans is our tendency toward dichotomous thinking. Black/white. Either/or. We presume that only two options are correct, that it cannot be somewhere in between…or somewhere completely outside of the two. We tend to think that if God exists, everything should be good all the time. So if something bad happens, the foundational thoughts on God are flawed. The reality of bad *must* mean that God is not good, God is not God, or that God simply is not real.

Yet, God’s role in adversity this not hindered by the limits of human reasoning.

Presuming God exists, if he is also sovereign, this means he is in control. In this respect, God bears the responsibility for any (and every) event that humans would label “bad,” “tragic,” or “disastrous.” If we lived in an edenic/idyllic/perfect world, this would mean that God is exceedingly cruel and is not at all good.

We don’t live in a perfect world.

The fact is, we live in a chaotic world. It is characterized by an ever-increasing frequency of earthquakes, destructive winds, demolishing storms, eruptions, and devastating waters. Ours is a world that is obeying the laws of thermodynamics and moving rapidly toward a state of increasing physical disorder. It exists in a universe that is perpetually expanding toward disorganization, too. It’s a world that appears destined for destruction and is growing increasingly unstable and volatile.

If we can agree that the world is becoming increasing disorganized and unstable, it’s appropriate to ask why this is so. There is no shortage of conjecture about human complicity in the not-small matter of global destruction, but I retrospect for the sake of maintaining focus on the question of God’s role

Two significant events changed the world from its original conditions to the ones within which we currently exist. Both are relevant to the current conversation; this writing addresses the first event’s role in explaining contemporary calamities.

The first event that changed the global environment is humanity’s original rebellion against God. Originally…according to the Bible…was created good, even perfect. God and humans enjoyed a close relationship. Yet, that relationship was destroyed when the first humans were deceived by evil, distrusted God and rebelled against him. The consequence of that rebellion was the eventual death of every person and, among other things, a curse upon the earth. This rebellion tainted the environment, altering the world from its utopian origin into a dystopian state, with ramifications and implications into the natural order that followed and is, even today.

Jesus reflected this reality in his teachings. He acknowledged we live in a world governed by natural laws. He didn’t blame God.  In Luke 13, he spoke of a tower in Siloam fell, killing 18 people. We don’t know if it was a natural disaster or a man-made mistake. We we do know that Jesus went out of the way to say that the people weren’t victims expressly because they were in rebellion to God. He refuted the “cruel God” argument. In the very next breath, though, Jesus said, “but unless you turn to God, you too will die!” In this, he undergirds the reality of God, not entertaining a notion that God is not real.

His point is that everybody dies in a broken world and the only hope for anyone is found through faith in God. Whether it’s by being crushed under a tower, swept away in a storm, or asleep in bed after a long, quiet life, death comes to every person….and every death is tragic. Furthermore, Jesus defuses the “uncaring God” argument with his declaration that turning to God is the sole means to escape the tragedy of death, and that it is available to every person, without exception.

The effort to reconcile God’s role in disaster is actually more about man than it is about God. The only way a person can lob accusations against God, suggesting that he is cruel or lazy, is if that person assumes that he sits in an authorized position of judgment. While this doesn’t mean that humans have no right to exercise genuine inquiry to ask “why?”, those who are asking should have a proper understanding about themselves before they can ever hope to have a right understanding about God. If people are intrinsically good and in right standing with God (or even in judgment over God), this explains the speculation and conjecture about tragic calamities and the implications thereof.

However, if (as Jesus taught and the Bible reports) that people exist in an intrinsic position of rebellion against and defiance to God, the question changes. Instead of asking, “Why?” the more reasonable question is “Why not?” If humans are, by their nature, in a state of opposition to God, and live on a realm barreling toward its total destruction, why wouldn’t there be regular, periodic, and increasingly numerous of escalating upheavals? Indeed, if humans live in a judged state of rebellion on a judged world of destruction, it makes sense that humans should expect to endure natural disasters on an increasing frequency. Accordingly, a lack of forewarning and the potential for each to claim any unpredictable number of lives is likewise reasonable. 

Because of the utter impossibility to prevent or avoid these natural disasters, the best (only) hope is to properly view the bigger picture with the perspective offered by the one person who authoritatively spoke with the divine insight. This is why Jesus said, “repent now!” when talking about the Siloam tower. He acknowledged that disasters will happen in a fallen world destined for judgment. Even so, death before reconciling with God is the biggest disaster. 

In men whom men condemn as ill
I find as much of goodness still,
In men whom men pronounce divine
I find so much of sin and blot,
I do not dare to draw a line
Between the two where God has not.

Joaquin Miller