I wrote a short story featuring someone who was a key perpetrator in what I judge as the most traumatic episode of my life. Of course, I meticulously concealed this piece from him. So when he alluded to that story in a recent conversation, I was just petrified. Even more so as he reviewed the story, smiling and commending me for remembering the sacrifices he had made for me. What? Sacrifices? That was when I understood practically how literary critics are ever-ascribing different meanings (than the author intended) to texts. I often wonder how much of this occurs in our relationship with God, as Christians. 

When Milton wrote the famous epic poem, “Paradise Lost”, his goal was to “justify the ways of God to men.” This sounded impressive when I first read the poem, but lately I’ve been thinking if God’s ways need justification, and if so, by whom, in which ways, and to what extent? Can God not justify his own ways if he wants to?

No, it’s not lost on me that Christians have been commissioned to be witnesses (Acts 1:8), ambassadors (2 Cor. 5:20) and oracles of God (1 Peter 4:11). But I am also aware that in speaking for others, it is easy (even when we mean well) to misrepresent them, for instance, through omissions, additions, understatements and exaggerations. And if that is the case even in human relations, shouldn’t we reasonably anticipate that the issue will be more complicated in our dealings with an infinite God whose ways are beyond tracing out? I’d like to argue that because of God’s personhood and omnipotence, he is always capable of defending himself to anybody, if he so chooses. Thus, Christians can safely refrain from trying to defend God beyond the boundaries that God himself has established—given, also, the potentially negative outcomes. 

 I’d like to argue that because of God’s personhood and omnipotence, he is always capable of defending himself to anybody, if he so chooses. 

The Book of Job provides the most convincing Biblical support for my argument. In Job’s apology for his righteousness, he lamented God’s injustice, inciting his three friends (Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar) to holy rage. Disgusted by Job’s self-righteousness and denigration of God, these three men took upon themselves the noble task of maintaining God’s justice. Speech after speech, each of Job’s friends argued that God was just—merciful, even, since Job was being punished less than he deserved. Their contention was premised on the fact that suffering (as Job’s) was the inevitable lot of the evil man; and that Job’s claim to innocence was deceptive and sinful. But they could not have known this for sure, could they? By Job 42 when God speaks, he ironically expresses his displeasure with these men’s (mis)representation of him and asks them to have Job offer sacrifices on their behalf. God’s reason? They had not spoken right of him.  

Lest my argument be misconstrued as reductionist (scilicet, that it is wrong to speak for God), let me hasten to add that if the heavens are ever-declaring the glory of God, if the sky proclaims his handiwork (Ps. 19:1), if God’s invisible qualities speak for him, so that people are without excuse (Rom. 1:20), how much more should those who have been given charges to be witnesses, ambassadors, and contenders of the faith (Jude 3)? We must not shirk this task, but must be more intentional about approaching it with prudence.

Too often, we end up making a caricature of God by asserting our inferences about God’s causes and effects as though they were absolute truths and gospel fact.

Too often, we end up making a caricature of God by asserting our inferences about God’s causes and effects as though they were absolute truths and gospel fact. For instance, I once heard a pastor make the case that slavery and colonialism in Africa were a necessity for Africans to have access to the Bible. Really? Africa has still not fully recovered from the impact of such massive exploitations. Did God allow all this because there surely was no other way we could have had access to the Bible? I think I have modest understanding of the Bible and God’s character to interrogate such an answer. What also would the ramifications be for others, such as my atheist friend who heard, much to his dismay, a preacher explain that God allows pain and suffering (including natural disasters) merely in order to showcase his omnipotence?  

One cannot claim to justify the ways of God unless s/he takes it for granted that s/he fully understands God. But since God has set a cap on our capacity for knowing (Deut. 29:29), it stands to reason that God does not give us the responsibility of defending him beyond a certain point. Job’s friends’ fatal error was in speaking with certainty about things concerning which they had limited knowledge. Doubtless, you will quote me 1 Corinthians 2:10: “But God has revealed these things to us by His Spirit.” Touché. However, the text says the Spirit searches all things... not that He reveals all things to us. Besides, remember the writer Paul, to whom many mysteries were revealed, but who admitted that we do not yet know fully, since we see through a film, darkly (1 Cor. 13:12).  

This, my friend, is truly liberating. It means that I don’t need to answer questions, for example, about why the Titanic sank. There are those who say that God was responsible, since the vessel’s maker had claimed that not even God could sink the ship. I’m sure no one would ever make such a blasphemous statement again. But who’s to say that God was indeed responsible? If God reveals this to anyone, well and good. But if not, are we not being like Zophar, Bildad and Eliphaz in saying that God took the more than 1,500 people on the ship to their icy graves because of a statement the vessel maker made? No, pastor, there is no shame in admitting to your church member that you don’t understand her strange dream. Disciple-maker, it is perfectly okay to tell your disciple that you’re unable to make sense of their vision.  

I recognize that it can be painful to admit ignorance. But is it not better to admit ignorance (concerning things that God has withheld) than to mislead people?

This argument is lent credence by the fact that even in the Scriptures, many things remain unclear. For example, where was God before he created the world? Why does the Scripture not tell? With whom did Cain live when he left his parents? And with whom did he have children? How long did the Spirit of God hover over the surface of the deep before God spoke? I recognize that it can be painful to admit ignorance. But is it not better to admit ignorance (concerning things that God has withheld) than to mislead people? Do the prospective deleterious consequences not far outweigh whatever good intentions we may have? 

There is even more exciting news: we do not need to labour, as some do, to portray God in terms more pleasant than the Bible does. I say this because in their quest to vindicate God, some Christians have needlessly burdened themselves with finding alternative interpretations for the less pleasant acts of God, notably in the Old Testament. For example, some have elected to interpret Malachi 1:2 by saying that “Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated” is a wrong rendition of what should have been “Jacob have I loved more than Esau.” Others argue either that there is no hell or that hell is temporary/ metaphorical.  

Then there are those who are always trying to apologize for God’s “misdoings.” In juxtaposing the Old Testament with the New, they give the impression that God has now “grown up” and has regretted the things he did in the past. They invent a new and nice God in apologizing for God’s wrath, for God’s killing, God’s “insensitivity.” Drew Dery offers a superb refutation: 

We assume that God’s wrath is akin to [ours]…God’s wrath is a perfect and holy wrath, different from our sinful anger as night is from day. So when God kills someone in the Bible, we can’t accept that, because we imagine how wrong it would be for us to kill someone. But we fail to account for the fact that God has every right to take a life, because he gave it in the first place. As a culture we work hard to establish parity, equality among people, and that is very good, but then [the problem comes when] we project that toward the heavens and say: God, you have to play by the same rules we do.

If I may add to this, dear apologist, have we forgotten that the writers of the Bible were inspired by God (2 Peter 1:21), and that if God wished to hide those “unpleasant” parts of Himself, he certainly could have conveniently done so? I don’t see how it should be the responsibility of any Christian to conjure reasons to defend God in order to appease people who take offence with God’s character. If human beings have freewill to do certain things without answering to anyone, why shouldn’t God? 

It is not to a person’s credit to be more zealous than God would have them. It is actually dangerous and can lead to destructive errors. We have seen egregious expressions of this in the atrocities of the Spanish Inquisition and the Crusades. Joash gave the crowd an important piece of advice when they sought to kill Gideon for destroying the altars of Baal: “If Baal is God, let him defend himself” (Judges 6:31). The crowd must have recognized the wisdom in this statement, given that they reneged on killing Gideon. And I think we Christians can learn something from this too. Unless, of course, the defending God agenda is in fact a veneer for our own self-centred goal of winning the argument.  

A very basic distinction between witnesses and lawyers is that while one’s goal is merely to testify of what they have seen/ experienced, the other manipulates evidence to point to a desired deduction.

Now, if I may go to my title. A very basic distinction between witnesses and lawyers is that while one’s goal is merely to testify of what they have seen/ experienced, the other manipulates evidence to point to a desired deduction. If you ask a lawyer why a person killed another person, he might connect several pieces of information to arrive at a conclusion. If you ask a witness, she cannot go beyond what she has seen. In lawyers’ obsession to defend their client, they may go extreme by conjuring/ misinterpreting evidence (intentionally or not), sometimes even leading to the acquitting of the guilty and the convicting of the righteous. I think we can take a chill pill (as a certain mischievous student I had would tell me when I would fume at him), knowing that God is not our client, and that he hasn’t put on our shoulders the burden of justifying all of his actions, as if we fully understood why he did/ does everything he does.  

Reinke, T. (2014, October 25). Stop Apologizing for God. Retrieved July 30, 2022, from desiring God: https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/stop-apologizing-for-god