A Personal Complaint Against Celestial Wisdom

I have a personal complaint against Divine Wisdom (God, if God there be) who manages our tiny solar system on the outer edge of the great Milky Way Galaxy. We have been taught in our religious myths of origin that God created the Heavens and the Earth and everything in it (Gen 1:1–31): male and female, God created them from the same bone and flesh (Gen 2:21–23); and in their coupling they become one (Gen 2:1; cf. 1 Cor 6:16), a supportive, symbiotic relationship. After living together for 60 years or so, couples have so completely bonded that they consider themselves two halves of one whole (at least I did). Such is the case with many happy marriages: the two, now united as one, expect to continue enjoying long lives together, for they have been gifted by the creator with eternity in their minds (Eccl 3:11). Yet one day the union unexpectedly ends with the untimely death of one or the other, leaving the surviving half to cope with life’s issues apart from the whole.

My complaint is this: the breaking-up of long-time intimate unions is wasteful in the extreme. Divine Wisdom should have made a better plan.

As one might surmise, my angry charges against the considerable powers of the universe have gone unnoticed and unaddressed. Complaints about the mismanagement of the universe, however, are not presumptuous for even Jesus complained about the actions of God as he was dying: “My God, My God! Why have you forsaken me.” (Mark 15:34/Matt 27:46)

In the Protestant Old Testament, biblical writers show no hesitation in complaining to the Almighty for perceived mistreatment at God’s hands (so to speak). The Psalter (Israel’s hymnbook), for example, has a type of psalm described as a complaint, or a lament, psalm. Here are few brief examples of complaints from the Psalms:

“My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me.” (Ps 22:11 RSV)

“O Lord God of Hosts, how long wilt thou be angry with thy people’s prayers? Thou hast fed them with the bread of tears, and given them tears to drink in full measure.” (Ps 80:4-5 RSV)

“Thou hast sold thy people for a trifle demanding no high price for them.” (Ps 44:12 RSV)

Job also complained bitterly of God’s mistreatment of himself and others (see, in particular, Job 9:20–24):

“God has cast me into the mire and I have become like dust and ashes. I cry to thee and thou dost not answer me. I stand and thou dost not heed me. Thou hast turned cruel to me; with the might of thy hand, thou dost persecute me.” (Job 30:19–21 RSV)

“If I sin, what do I do to thee, thou watcher of men? Why hast thou made me thy mark? Why have I become a burden to thee? Why dost thou not pardon my transgression and take away my iniquity.” (Job 7:20–21 RSV)

“I am innocent, but God denies me justice. Although I am right, I am considered a liar; although I am guiltless his arrow inflicts an incurable wound.” (Job 34:5–6 NIV)

God responds to Job’s criticisms (Job 38:1—40:2; 40:6—41:34), but God’s response never directly addresses Job’s specific criticisms of God’s behavior. God’s answer boils down to: I am bigger, better, and stronger than you, as Job’s responses seem to acknowledge (Job 49:3–5); so, Job acquiesces (Job 42:1–5).

            In the New Testament, however, the writers are more pious, or cowed, and defend God’s perceived mistreatments of people (Rom 9:14–23; Heb 12:3–11). In the New Testament, there are only two specific complaints against God of which I know; one, the evangelist attributes to Jesus, quoting Psalm 22:11 (Mark 15:34/Matt 27:46), and the other, John attributes to slain martyrs, who complain that God has delayed judgment and not avenged them: “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before thou wilt judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell upon the earth.” (Rev 6:10 RSV)

            Does God pay any attention to our complaints about his divine misbehavior, do you suppose? Clearly, in the Old Testament people believed their complaints could have an influence on divine behavior. In the New Testament, however, Paul’s answer to that question is: God does what he wants (Rom 9:14–18) and your perceived mistreatment at God’s hands (so to speak) depends on his mercy.

            That is not a very satisfying response! God’s inconsistent, erratic, or capricious behavior (as suggested by Paul) is a genuine handicap to trusting God to do the right thing.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

Curiosity, Critical Thinking, Skepticism, and Faith

Can a critical thinker also be a person of traditional religious faith? It is true that many are, or at least appear to be, but who knows what goes on in another’s mind. As a purely theoretical question, the answer must be: perhaps. Two variables skew the response: the thinker’s curiosity and the reasonableness of the article of faith. Faith may not demand that critical thinkers affirm something they know to be patently false. Critical thinkers by their very nature are curious. Leading them to evaluate and critique the evidence before making a decision, or making a faith commitment. Curiosity is the mother’s milk of critical thinking. Without it there will be little critical thought.

            Religion in Western culture is generally conservative and offers its propositional truths as paradigmatically absolute; they are the product of divine revelation, we are told, to be questioned only at the risk of one’s immortal soul. Nevertheless, critical thinkers are not typically so generous as to affirm without critiquing. Regardless of the stakes, an individual who suppresses curiosity and affirms a religious proposition without serious challenge is not thinking critically.

            The real difficulty with religious truths, however, is that the absolute religious truth of one group frequently refutes the absolute religious truth of another group. Here is an example of one divine truth canceling another. Catholics regard the wine and bread of the Mass as transformed into the actual body and blood of Christ. Lutherans reject this view but affirm that in some way Christ is truly present in the bread and wine of the Eucharist. Baptists and others, on the other hand, regard the bread and grape juice (for Baptists certainly not wine!) of the Lord’s Supper as only symbolical. The bread and grape juice only represent the body and blood of Christ. As long as such ideas as these are considered simply different “beliefs” between religious groups, it is merely an oddity prompting the response, “how odd. How can people in the same religion who use the same holy books believe such remarkably different things?” But when it is remembered that these three groups hold that their respective views are absolutely binding on their memberships as the product of divine wisdom, it should strike a critical thinker as a curiosity for further investigation, particularly into the rationale of each group. Of course, they cannot all be the result of divine revelation! But the solution is not as easy as determining which is the correct view and eliminating the other two.

            The problem really goes to the nature of “religious truth.” Religious truth is not objective like mathematics—like 2+2=4, for example. Rather religious truth is only subjective truth in every case. Like beauty, religious truth lies in the eye, or in this case mind, of the beholder. That the character of the propositional truth is absolute is only true for the one who believes it is true. It is unlike Einstein’s theory of relativity E = MC², which is universally true—although true believers are scarcely apt to agree. Such an uncritical perspective is apt to strike the critical thinker as suspicious—if not worthy of complete skepticism.*

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

*This essay first appeared in Charles W. Hedrick, House of Faith or Enchanted Forest. American Popular Belief in an Age of Reason (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2009), 39–41. It appears here newly edited and under a new title.