Bart’s Problems
God is great;
God is good;
Now we thank him
for our food.
And therein is the problem. If God is great (all-powerful) and if he is good, then why does this world so often feel God-forsaken? Why is there such great suffering? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why must infants suffer?
“If there is an all-powerful and loving God in this world, why is there so much excruciating pain and unspeakable suffering?”
This is the question that has haunted Bart Ehrman, a prolific writer and professor of religious studies at UNC, for most of his lifetime.
The result of his quest to answer that question is his newest book, God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question–Why We Suffer
He’s asking the questions I’ve been asking for many years. Those questions have led us in different directions, though.
Ehrman, once a student at Moody Bible institute and at Wheaton College and later a pastor of a Baptist Church while working on his Ph. D. at Princeton in New Testament studies, has decided that the answers for him do not lie in Christianity. “I now have lost [my faith] altogether. I no longer go to church, no longer believe, no longer consider myself a Christian.”
Then he explains, “The subject of this book is the reason why.” He had to finally admit to himself that what he was observing in life didn’t mesh with the claims of faith.
Ok, get ready for this: I like the book. I like it a lot. Maybe it’s not the kind of reading you want to give for May graduation gifts, but it strikes me as an honest journey — though a journey that ends in a very different place from where I am.
First, I appreciate how he honestly observes the pain and suffering in the world — from his personal experiences with suffering to the global agonies. Holocaust. Cancer. Starvation. Infant mortality. Tsunamis. Hurricanes. Diseases. Wars.
He remembers going to a Christmas Eve service during which they prayed for God to break into the darkness again.
Yes, I wanted to affirm this prayer, believe this prayer, commit myself to this prayer. But I couldn’t. The darkness is too deep, the suffering too intense, the divine absence too palpable. During the time that it took for this Christmas Eve service to conclude, more than 700 children in the world would have died of hunger; 250 others from drinking unsafe water; and nearly 300 other people from malaria. Not to mention the ones who had been raped, mutilated, tortured, dismembered, and murdered. Nor the innocent victims caught up in the human trade industry, nor those suffering throughout the world from grinding poverty, the destitute migrant farmworkers in our own country, those who were homeless and inflicted with mental disease. Nor to mention the silent suffering that so many millions of the well-fed and well-tended have to experience daily: the pain of children with birth defects, children killed in car accidents, children senselessly taken by leukemia, the pain of divorce and broken families; the pain of lost jobs, lost income, failed prospects. And where is God?
Sometimes when I’ve talked about suffering with my university students, I get the feeling that many of them — coming, perhaps, from comfortable, relatively pain-free lives — don’t yet get it. Darfur is too far away.
So, yes. I like his honestly. For me, it’s the great losses in my life; but it’s also the overwhelming flood of suffering in the world.
Second, I like his humility. Having read several of his other books, I think it maybe doesn’t come easily for him. (Couldn’t many of us say this about ourselves?) He points out that others who are equally aware and intelligent — including his wife, who is a distinguished prof of medieval English literature at Duke and a devoted Christian in the Episcopal church — come to different conclusions.
Third, I like his survey of how scripture attempts to answer the problems of theodicy, including these:
- The main voice of the Old Testament, which suggests that suffering comes because God is punishing us for being bad. At times, God is a fierce beast who rips his people to shreds for failing him (see Hosea 13 — the “prophet of love”). But does this really explain the suffering that we often see? Does that explain cancer that strikes godly people? How about babies who are perishing because they don’t have access to inexpensive malaria drugs?
- The implications of free will (emphasized in the novel The Shack, which I wrote about recently) — suffering as a collateral damage of the way we treat each other. But does this explain a tsunami? retardation? tornados? And if God SOMETIMES enters in to stop the suffering that might result (e.g., to protect a godly families from a drunk driver), then how do you explain that he doesn’t USUALLY seem to do that? If he EVER intervenes, isn’t that in some ways even more of a problem?
- The view that suffering is ultimately redemptive. “But I just don’t see anything redemptive when Ethiopian babies die of malnutrition, or when thousands of people die today (and yesterday, and the day before) of malaria, or when your entire family is brutalized by a drug-crazed gang that breaks into your home in the middle of the night.”
- The focus of some biblical authors that suffering is a kind of test. Think here of Job or Genesis 22 (God’s demand that Abraham sacrifice Isaac). Side note: his material on Job, and the important questions he asks, was worth the price of the book to me.
- The belief of some of the apocalyptic passages that suffering is caused by forces opposed to God. Ehrman says: “It is also rooted in a blind faith that eventually everything wrong will be made right — a nice thoguht, and one that I wish were true. But it is, at the end of the day, blind faith; and it can lead all too easily to social apathy: since problems won’t be solved until the end, there is no point in our working to solve them now.”
There is one biblical writer that he thinks gets it right: Ecclesiastes. In his reading of that book this means that suffering is mystery, this life is all there is, and that we should seek personal joy and joy for our fellow human beings as we live it.
Maybe you don’t want to read this book. I understand. It’s not for the faint of heart.
It’s called God’s Problem. But, as a believer in the Triune God, I have to ask this: does God really have a problem. Or do I?
So here, I think, are Bart’s Problems. (I say this with great respect for his scholarship. I’ve been blessed by reading several of his books.)
First, he believes that the earliest Christians didn’t understand Jesus of Nazareth to be God himself. Rather, he thinks that was a later development. For good reasons, I disagree. And if you disagree, that makes a lot of different. It does not solve the problem of suffering. I’m still confounded. Still searching. Still upset and flummoxed. But it matters deeply to me that I believe God came among us and suffered with us.
Second, despite his disclaimer in the beginning, it feels at times that he forgets that people with equal intelligence and courage have looked right into the monster of pain and have continued to believe. Even with questions and mystery swirling about them. Remember the story of Dr. Diane Komp? A pediatric oncologist, she actually came to faith in the midst of horrible stories of suffering. It wasn’t charismatic healing that convinced her; it was courageous, faith-filled suffering.
Third, and I know this is just kind of pragmatic, I think he’s advocating a view that won’t work for you when you die. Not after you die — but as you face your mortality. The end stories of unbelievers tend not to be pretty. Something in us insists that there is more. Our souls are, indeed, restless until they rest in him.
My journey to understand continues. I’m so thankful for Bart Ehrman as a conversation partner. If my son winds up doing his residency in North Carolina, perhaps we’ll have a chance to sit down some day and chat about it.
Mike, I don’t know if I will read this book or not…I confess I don’t seek a huge mental exercise–I need all my energies for an extra full life right now. Mine is a simplistic faith, I believe in simple things: “Keep it Simple” and other such trite sayings that AA and Alanon espouse. I was critical of these tacky little signs placed around the meeting rooms until I saw them lived out in in changed lives…that’s about the limit of my critical reasoning. I saw, I knew. Reason and evidence. Some alcoholics did not stay sober, some did. I chose to believe in GOD and His promise of eternal life with Him through Christ.
And, Jeff, yes, there is a difference between my life lived in hope and the Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist or Hindu. That difference is not in their personal conviction of what they believe to be right, it is in the one who established their faith and how that leader impacted their world–especially the entire world today–as a result. Mohamed with his sword said he was pointing to the truth, Buddha, at his death, said he was still seeking the truth; Jesus said he WAS the truth. I choose Jesus, simpler for me because I was raised in a loving, Jesus-believing home. Early deaths of mother, father, and many loved ones including my first-born son have shaped my desire to continue choosing Him and to live as He lived, caring about our world and the suffering as much as it is in my power. Bottom line, even if GOD and Jesus are myths, and there is no eternal life with them, I am grateful that “whatever it is that lives in me” even through deep and continuing suffering (and, yes, even doubt), has enabled me to live simply with a cupful of joy and a boat load of love.
To Carolyn:
1. Myself and others are seeking what is real, not necessarily what is helpful. By yourself saying, “Bottom line, even if GOD and Jesus are myths…”, it sounds like you’ve opted out of this search and have settled for the consolation prize (literally)…
2. There is no denying that Jesus is a powerful and consoling figure.
In fact, 25 years post-Christian, I find myself meditating on something or other that Jesus said almost every single day. My problem with Jesus is that his claims to be “the only way, the only truth, and the only life” are unproven, and in fact unproveable.
3. Carolyn, you appear to be a person who has suffered a great deal, has made some tough choices, and has shown much courage in your life. I can see that in your writings. Yet, I would gently submit to you that, if we were to peruse the devotional writings of Muslims, Hindhus, Buddhists, etc., we would there also find testimonies that would impress us with their faith and courage.
Something to think about.
Martin, if your assertion is that faith discourages thinking, and that there is no process to it…..then you are wrong. You need not look further than this blog (not to mention this very thread) for your “proof”. I do know the foundation of faith (hope, love, grace, etc) is solid and unchanging. While the environment of science has the element of error and re-proof, I’ve never known the elements of faith to be similarly challenged.
Martin, give us a shout when you come up with a self-contained rational framework that yields (a) a means of discovering unassailable premises on which to build a coherent ethical theory that (b) results in a just world. And go by your own rules, which is to say: avoid invoking authority at any point along the way.
shameless qb, without answers to theodicy
I’ll definitely be picking this book up. I’d be interested in hearing more about how Jesus’ (God’s) suffering on Earth changes anything for you.
That doesn’t do anything for me. He created a world in which there is a lot of misery (I’ve spent time in East Africa and I currently work at a mental hospital). My instinctual call for justice says that God should suffer for causing so many innocents to suffer.
I disagree with any statements that we are all guilty. Stand in front of a little boy who is bloated because of all the parasites in his stomach and tell him what he did to deserve it.
Even if innocent suffering is collateral damage of human evil (which I am not conceding in many cases), I still don’t think that gets God off the hook because he made us. As far as I know none of us asked to be here – it wasn’t our idea.
This is a wonderful blog, Mike.
C,
Your “foundations of faith”, hope, love, and grace are human constructs that mean totally different things to different people. How can you say they are “solid and unchanging”? Most people would have trouble even defining those.
qb,
Ethical theories and a “just world” are total human constructs, too. I suppose, qb,you could build a “self-contained” whatever? So could every other religion and philosopher from the past 8,000 years and they would all be different. qb, why would yours be better?
Martin, they are non-human constructs with spiritual overtones. I will grant you the fact that not everyone defines them from a Christian perspective. Perform your scientific process and gather data on the all the various meanings of hope, love and grace. You’ll find a similar thread that runs through each, therefore proving their solid and unchanging nature.
Leland
Feb 25th, 2008 at 10:07 pm
“I do believe in a “God” but not the one defined by the Christian, Jewish or Muslim “Bible.” I do believe in Jesus’ life well lived and his death.”
I’m not sure I understand this statement, especially where it concerns the “Jewish Bible.” Which bible are you referring to?
Also in response to the “big bang” theory . . . God could have created the world in any manner he chose, including the “big bang” theory . . .
I haven’t read your blog for a while, Mike, because your posts are usually too thought-provoking:) Not that thinking about such things is a bad thing at all, but I generally find myself so preoccupied with them that I have a hard time going about my day to day business without running back and forth to the computer to update myself with the comments. Anyway, I decided to check in today and feel I can respond without getting knee-deep into it.
About trials/suffering, etc.: I have led a quiet, fairly sheltered life and can’t speak first-hand to huge calamaties. But I do remember when I had my first real adult ‘trial’. I lost a pregnancy and was faced simultaneously with a possibility of cancer. I remember being in agony over the turn of events and went desparately to God’s word and what I found has held me in good stead.
I Peter 1:6-8
“In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.”
I take joy in knowing that the trial I underwent then (and subsequent ones since) have been to let show my faith genuine and that He values it more than gold. Growing up in the church I always ASSUMED I had genuine faith, but you just never know until it is tried.
Now about faith:
I am like a previous poster who likes to keep things simple. Perhaps it is because I don’t have a ‘need to know’ mentality, I do accept quite a bit on faith. Call it blind faith if you want to but really, what other kind is there? If you can see and touch and prove, where is the faith? Christ said that he welcomes those who have faith like children…that means to me that you don’t have to have answers to the BIG questions. He honors those who trust enough to come to him.
Oh yeah, and to Jeff
I think it’s great to ponder the words of the Christ on a daily basis. However, if you don’t think he is the Only way (as Jesus himself said (No one comes to the Father except through me) why would you bother? I mean, if you believe his own declaration about himself is a lie, then why spend your time on the words of a liar?
Happy chatting out there, everyone. Have a great week
Happy chatting out there everyone. Have a great week
To bqb,
This is why I put “Bible” in quotation marks. Whatever they consider to be their guiding ideal.
To Jeff:
1. “Myself and others are seeking what is real, not necessarily what is helpful.”
By all means, keep searching…And, GOD is not through with me yet, nor with you. I haven’t “opted out” of the search, I have chosen through the search and, ah, what a lovely option! (and helpful)
2. Faith is a gift, no proof required. I submit we are likely all a little wrong in ways we cannot even imagine. GOD knows. Keep on searching.
3. I am vitally interested in Eastern/Middle East literature (Muslims, Hindhus, Buddhists, etc.), even works of fiction such as A Thousand Splendid Suns give strong testimonies of faith and courage because we are all created in the image of GOD. You are His whether you like it or not. If you are “Post Christian,” Maybe I’m preaching to the choir.:-) Keep on searching.
Suffering Sucks!!!!!!
Praise God
Why blame God for suffering when Satan is still roaming the earth like a roaring lion, seeking those he may devour? God has already overcome the power of Satan in the resurrection. It is only at the end of time that Satan will be completely bound, “out of our lives,” that the suffering of the righteous will cease, and we will live where there are no more tears and pain.
I have been dealing with this, like many Christians and others, for quite some time now. One book that doesnt begin to answer the question about why we suffer, but still gives me a great deal of hope and belief that God is somehow at work in this madness and savage chaos, is “The Hiding Place,” about Corrie ten Boom. If anyone ever looked into the very pits of hell and still managed to find the face of God all around her it was this lady.
May the God who has and still suffers with us guide us as we look the Suffering Servant who hung on a criminal’s cross as he joined us in our humanity and continues to rescue us from it.
Martin,
You’re plainly conflating reason and empiricism. I try to be reasonable, but I don’t subscribe to empiricism because I think that the empirical road has been followed to its dead end. I don’t subscribe to any kind of foundational epistemology; as qb hints, such systems have to appeal to authority (usually tacit social tenets) to find their bootstraps.
You wrote of “proving” things with scientific method. That’s a pretty poor understanding of science. You need to spend some serious effort learning about the history of epistemology and the philosophy of science. A decent exposure to those things ought to convince you that (1) scientific method, at best, falsifies propositions and (2) all systems of reason and all methods of science are human systems to the core.
There are, alas, a lot of scientists who don’t understand this. You’ll find lots of professional scientists who are amateur philosophers who reject this view of scientific method; their number doesn’t make them right, nor does it make their arguments convincing to me.
And I make all these observations and suggestions as one who holds to the Christian faith. With my epistemological views, I cannot hold to Protestant fundamentalism or the Roman Catholic doctrine of papal infallibility (even though it’s really small in scope), but I can hold to a Christianity that is more true to its Jewish roots than are these modern contrivances. My faith rests in a beset community that, in Egypt and Babylon, found its identity in plain, unblinking view of great suffering. The core questions of the Jewish faith were existential, and I find that the birthplaces of Judaism offer much to a present society that has exhausted the Modern Way and is yet left with great existential questions. When we see for ourselves that modernity is vain, we are freed to pursue the existential questions without being beholden to the premises, methods, and objectives of modernity.
Theologically informed, my critique of modernity becomes a recognition that it rejects the doctrine of creation: modernity is a human quest for certainty that God has never offered us or has claimed is possible for us or has even suggested is good for us.
So, Martin, learn about these issues of epistemology and science, and then consider why what I say about existential approaches to the Christian faith might be a reasonable response.
Jeff W
I don’t have a clue what you just said, but I like it!
Jeff W.,
I gotta tell you, your “existential approaches to the Christian faith” really has me confused. I guess I just don’t understand what you are saying. How can there be an existential approach to the Christian faith? (Does that have something to do with Kierkegaard? If it does then I’m totally lost b/c I’ve never understood him.) In a way I have to echo Brad, the previous poster.
About my use of “proving” being a “pretty poor understanding of science”: probably so. Maybe I could use the word “predicting” instead. As far as predicting future observations, the tools employed by science work by actually predicting future observations based on past observations. One goes to the doctor for medicine b/c science has proven or can predict what the chemicals in the medicine will do. And doctors can do that by using the tools of science. Faith can’t aspire to anything so grand. Jeff, your own “existential approaches to the Christian faith” might be a pleasing paradigm to you as far as your understanding of the world you inhabit, but it is ultimately hollow b/c it is based on Christian faith which cannot be used to predict or prove anything about the world we live in. My visions of the flying spaghetti monster are as certain as yours of whatever kind of god or reality you wrote about in your post.
And while “modernity may be vain” to you, it isn’t to everyone. Some of us actually enjoy and thrive by accepting our humble place in the universe without expectations of a pearly-gated after-life.
One question to Martin…I understand where you are when it comes to suffering but what I don’t know is….where do you find joy?
I work in the medical profession and I don’t have the trust in it that you do. There is so much that we don’t know and every patient should know that. The human body can be baffling and there are so many out there suffering with no one to pave the way to a cure for what ails them. I think that I would put my faith someplace else…not in the hands of man.
Julie,
I think you have an excellent point. Our understanding of the world we live in is not complete, even though humanity is understanding it more and more. I do, though, think it is amazing how much more we know today compared to what we knew 100 years ago. Julie, since you work in the medical profession, haven’t you ever seen medical knowledge do a few fantastic things? If you were sick, wouldn’t you seek medical help and expect at least something?
But about joy, where does anyone find joy? In their children’s smile. In a cold glass of water on a hot day. In Saturday evenings with friends. In the arms of a lover. In hatching plans for the future. Many Christians think that they are the only ones who are happy (strangely, most Christians that I know really aren’t happy) but the Christian worldview certainly has no corner on happiness. I think happiness/joy can be found in accepting your lot; accepting your place; accepting your destiny; accepting your death; accepting the universe as it appears and enjoying the moments pregnant with possibility. Crutches (faith in unreasonable things, hope in impossible futures, belief in mythology) does not, I don’t think, lead to happiness. Crutches just lead to sore underarms.
I hope this helps you understand.
Martin, the objective of the modern philosophical program was certainty. In that, it utterly failed. What we got from modernity was
(1) a mathematics that judges all logic systems to contain either inherent contradictions or unprovable theorems — and you can’t know which is the case;
(2) a quantum mechanics that posits uncertainty at the heart of all physical reality; and
(3) a psychology that offers a sparky chemical sack in our heads as the driver for observation and reason.
Indeed, it is modernity that failed to be humble, trying to make Objective Observer Gods out of humans. Modernity is truly vain to me — and to a host of others with far more qualification than I to pronounce it so. The critique of modernity, starting no later than Hume, has been in full swing for 120 years now. Lots of us consider the matter pretty well settled, the obit justifiably published. That number tends not to include, by the way, most pearly-gate, care-nothing-for-this-world Christians; you’re barking up the wrong tree there.
So, it’s your preoccupation with proof that strikes me as empty: I know it’s impossible, and I know the quest for it leads down the road to nihilism, and fecklessness, and uselessness. And to the heart of darkness. And even to Auschwitz.
That’s why I ask you to investigate epistemology and the philosophy of science (Richard, here, might well ask you to learn psychology) and face the problems that they pose for modernity. It’s in the face of what’s at the end of modernity’s road that I found myself looking for a new way to understand life. And there I found that Abraham’s people were telling me that they’ve been facing that vanity since long before modernity showed up.
In my previous post, I called that viewpoint an existential one; indeed, it was born in crises of existence for the Hebrew/Jewish people. I really prefer the term humanist, though that freaks out most of my brothers and sisters because they don’t know how I mean to use it. By it I mean human-centered, because the death of modernity has taught me that the beginning point for understanding the world is humanity, and this is so precisely because we are a humanity, and we cannot be anything else. By it I also mean humane, because I know that human suffering is as real as anything in the universe, and it’s impossible to ignore when you’re in it’s grip: you cannot help but feel the hurt.
Taking humanity seriously is non-negotiable for me in my attempts to understand the world. I’ve told you some about the road that has led me here. I hope that you can follow that road in part and see some of the merit in my present position.
Martin, thank you for your quick reply. Strangely or maybe not so strangely, we find joy in many of the same things. I do not profess to be smart or even theologically sound but there are some things that I know from deep down inside that cannot be explained. I know that there is a God. I have known that since I was a toddler. I can’t really rationally tell you why…only that the presence of God was real and warm and comforting…true love and the force of it. I don’t know why for me it was real and some search forever and seem to never find it. I would not go so far as to say that I know the only way to God or that my understanding of God is the only way to explain…in fact, probably to some head shaking from those who know me, I am quite sure that my understanding of God is not the only way. I know that in the midst of worship my heart and my mind are engaged in something that defies understanding and no other place on earth feels as at home to me as that place.
Okay, maybe none of that made sense but just thought I should respond to your honesty with honesty.
Yes, I have seen medicine work well but I have to admit that usually the heart of the physician was also in the right place for it to work well also…medicine isn’t all knowledge and practice…it is also about heart and compassion and belief and hope. I have seen it from all sides.
mike,
thanks for taking the time to blog this book. most pastors are usually too afraid to admit that they like a book/author that is almost an antithesis to orthodoxy. this book (and bart’s other books) have ment alot to my journey.
Mike,
Thanks so much for your eloquent introduction to Ehrman’s new book. I want to check it out. The last year and a half has given me some of my darkest moments, closest exposures to suffering, and deepest contemplations of God. These questions are present, though I can’t follow his line to his conclusion. A coulple of books that have been incredibly influential for me have been “The Crucified God” by Moltmann, particularly his exposure of the early premise and adaptation of theism, the premise of a theologia gloriae, and the integration of Platonic and Aristotelian concepts of God into the church. The result of the integration of the life and teachings of Christ with the concept of a God primarilly seen through the lens of “omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience,” the Unmoved Mover, can hardly lead to anything other than atheism or sensational theories of theodicy.
On a more personal note, “Lament for a Son” by Nicholas Wolterstorff, offers an invitation to the heart of grief, loss and suffering. He lost his son in a rock climbing accident and reflects on the relationship and nature of God within both the particular and universal natures of his situation.
I include these references not to contradict, for I am sure that you and many of your readers are intimately familiar with them. I include them in the hopes that those who are familiar with them may draw some comparisons and further illuminate the trajectories of these books that lead in such different directions. For those that are not familiar with them, may they be a blessing.
I find myself tracking along with Ehrman right up to the final question. It seems to me that Ehrman’s problem isn’t so much with God, but with those of us who are called to be God’s people; not with Christ so much as with the Body of Christ. His anger is justified, but his aim is off. The better question, my own question, is “where are we?”
It’s posts like this.
Thanks again.
I don’t know how many people saw the editorial a few months back about the former religion reporter for… the LA Times, I believe? He was a recent convert to Catholicism when he asked to cover the faith beat. After some time on the beat, he lost his faith because his investigations into the sex scandals showed him so much darkness and suffering in the very center of his faith community.
When I read about Ehrman, I think the same thing that I thought about that reporter. Phillippians 4:8 instructs Christians very clearly to think on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. It’s OK to think about the problem of suffering, and read a book about it occasionally (although if you really want a good one, go straight to C.S. Lewis in _The Problem of Pain_). But when you *brood* on suffering and darkness, you will risk your faith. As Lewis points out, there is no such thing as the “collective weight” of suffering in the world for any of us. Only one person has ever felt that collective weight; the rest of us each feel only our allotted portion, and, no matter how horrible the life, that suffering is brief when we can look forward to the joy ahead.
I write not as an anti-intellectual–I have an advanced degree in the humanities–but as a former agnostic, and as someone who knows firsthand the dangers of brooding on the darkness. I feel compassion for Ehrman. He made a mistake, like many intellectuals, in thinking that we don’t need to exercise strict discipline in keeping light in our thoughts–even when engaged in scholarship, even in full awareness of the worst atrocities (which we are largely spared by living in a peaceful, wealthy country).
writerlogos!
I SO agree with you!
To Writerlogos:
Telling us to avert our eyes from the darkness is not the answer…
To Writerlogos:
…because there are people trapped in the darkness, and we have to go in and get them…
…because there are people trapped in the darkness, and we have to go in and get them…
IMO, Jeff – that’s a totally different scenario than living our lives as though WE were one of those trapped in darkness. Kind of a hard sell if we talk of the joy of the LORD and carry a dark, unhappy countenance with us into their dark places. I don’t think either writerlogos nor I are talking about superficial silliness.
Interesting article on Ehrman here: http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/05/15/bible.critic/index.html.
According to the article pointed out just above, Bart has more problems than with understanding suffering.
Mr. Ehrman’s parents have my utmost respect, and sympathy. I know their hearts must be broken. I guess Bart can’t see/doesn’t care that he may cause others to suffer…
I would not want to be him when Jesus returns.
Thx, this has definitely made my day!
_______________________
wtf