Death and the Justice of God

A friend and coworker recently lost his 19 year old daughter.  She was a very happy, energetic young woman with her whole life in front of her.  She had only three months before graduated from college, played for  a championship softball team at her college, was engaged to be married, procured a job right out of college with the potential for advancement, was about to buy a house where she and her future husband would live, etc.  Despite such a great future ahead of her, she was taken from this life.

At the visitation, the sheer number of people there was overwhelming.  This young woman had clearly made an impact on those around her.  There were friends from her high school and college, friends of friends, coworkers and friends of her parents and siblings.  It was inspiring though under tragic circumstances.  While waiting to see the deceased''s father, I overheard some people talking about how this young woman's death was tragic and unfair and how could God do this.  As a parent myself, I probably would ask those same questions should I find myself (God forbid!) in the same situation.

In the movie, Rudy, a disheartened Rudy Ruttiger, upon learning yet again that he was denied entrance to the University of Notre Dame, tries to get some comfort and counsel from the priest.  The priest says that in his life he is only certain of two things:  there is a God and he is not Him.  I know from the Scriptures that the Lord says "My thoughts are not your thoughts; My ways are not your ways." (Isaiah 55:8).  I don't know that would be much of a comfort to me if I were to find myself in this situation, but if I were to understand the reasons why certain things, especially bad things like the death of your own child happen, I know that then I would be God.  But I'm not.

When studying the mythology of the Ancient Greeks and Romans and examining just how petty and emotionally insecure the gods and goddesses appear to be, I ask my students if it is possible for the gods or God to be moral in our sight.  They most often respond with a unanimous "no."  When I ask why, they reply something along the lines about how we humans operate or try to operate on a system of fair play.  And we do.  Then I ask the question, do you want life to be fair?  At this point, the class is pretty silent not knowing how to answer, though after a few seconds of awkward silence a few chirp up and say, "Absolutely!"  I then challenge them to consider about how many things they have gotten away with in their life:   How many times they screwed up and no one noticed, how many times they broke a rule and didn't get caught, how many times they got away unscathed without any punishment.  If life were truly fair, you would get what you deserve for everything you do.  And I know what I would be punished far more than rewarded.  When I bring this up, most students then grudgingly approve of the system we currently have in place.  There is a God and I'm not Him.

God will never get a fair shake from us mortal men.  He will never play fair.  If God were fair, this sweet young woman would not have died.  Truth be told, God shouldn't give us a fair shake either. And he doesn't; he goes way, way, way beyond that.  While we deal and try to rationalize the world in terms of fair play, God does differently.  His ways are not our ways.   If the justice of God were paramount, then there would have been no incarnation, no Crucifixion, no death and surely no Resurrection. But those things did happen, not because it satisfied some notion of justice, but because it was done for God's love of His creation.

God will never be just in our sight.  God's ways our different than ours.  Nevertheless, as  humans we continue to want God to be human rather than us to be more like God.  A Christian life is not a guarantee to be free from suffering in this life.  That's one of the reasons that the "Prosperity Gospel" is a false gospel.  There will be suffering.  But that does not mean we should be morose.  If anything we should be joyful because God's justice, at least for the time being, has not come.  It will eventually, at the Last Judgment, but for the here and now, the Compassion and Mercy of God reign supreme.

Is this fair?  No and I would really be afraid if everything I see and do every day of my life is the result of fairness.

Reflections on Father's Day

This is now my third father's day.  Being called "daddy" by my soon-to-be-three-year old is something that 15, 10 or 6 years I would have deemed highly unlikely to impossible. Whenever my son says "daddy", it is at times difficult to hold back tears.  Here is a little boy who depends upon me and his mother for basically everything in his little life.  He is starting to assert some independence, but when it comes to the basics, he still needs me and will probably need me for a few more years before it becomes "uncool" or "embarrassing."  But, for the time being, I'll take every utterance of "daddy" with great joy.

My reasons for thinking that I would never become a father, let alone married, were myriad.  Chief among them was that I thought I was pre-declined for any possible date considering that when I started (very late when compared to most people), I was consistently rejected.  Then there was the possibility that I thought I would join the monastic life.  But, like I tell my students who think that they too will never have kids, things always change.

And what changes that being married and having a kid have made.  Perhaps to people who only know me on a very limited basis, I don't appear to have changed very much.  To those who are on more intimate terms, they see the change far more profoundly.  However, in self-examination, I tend to dwell on those areas I need to change but have not, for whatever reason.  But the changes that I and others have noticed were for the better.  Here are some general things I have learned over these past few years.

Parenting does change you because it requires sacrifice of self.  It requires you to forget about your own needs and wants and put the kid first above all.  Even though my wife and I were told by my priest during our premarital counseling sessions that we should not put our kids above our marriage, I find it difficult to impossible to do that.  My wife and I do spend a lot of time together in the presence of our son.  When we do get some time to ourselves, it's mainly to recharge or rest or sleep or get caught up on things that we simply need to do.  Date nights are scarce but they do happen.  But our kid always comes first.

Parenting is tough.  Duh!  I think the only people who would say otherwise are not parents themselves or just produced the kid and didn't do anything to raise him.  No more explanation needed.

Parenting requires you to be inventive.  I've found out just about every free thing a toddler can do around this town so he's entertained and we are not scrapping by.  

Parenting can also be low tech.  Do you want to know how far a tickle session can last?  I don't know what the record is but for the past 30 minutes before he went upstairs for his nighttime routine, I chased my son around and tickled him which he kept asking me to do!  It can grow tiresome, except for him.

When you get past one hurdle, another gets in the way immediately.  Our son has made great progress in his speech and vocabulary acquisition this year.  Now, we're on to another fun chapter:  Potty training.

Kids aren't going to sit still even at church.  I have to admit that I get frustrated taking my son to church because I spend a great deal of the Divine Liturgy out of the church tending to him and chasing him down.  He wants to get around and explore and play.  Sometimes this causes groans and moans from others in the nave who, I think, have forgotten what i is like to have young children.  As much as I try to prepare him to sit still and emphasize the importance of being quiet, when we get there, nothing of the sort happens. 

The faith resonates with him.  He doesn't understand the whys, the hows, the whats and the wheres, etc.  But, at home, he honors his icons, even saying "Pray for me" before his icon of St. Eleftherios and "have mercy" before his Christ icon.  He can make his sign of the cross (though in the Roman Catholic manner; nothing wrong with that. We can change later).  And he knows to say "Amen" after prayers in the evening and at meals. 

I've learned much over these past three years.  I've still much more to learn.  There is one thing, however, that I have only started to being to think to understand. This is something I would have had a hard time of doing without being married and having kids.  That thing is compassion.  I don't think that anyone can really even define compassion before they have kids.  And I don't think we can even begin to understand just how hard John 3:16 hits home until we have kids. 

To all the fathers out there, Happy Fathers Day.  To my father, in particular, thanks for showing me what I need to do to be maybe half as good a father to my son as you were to me.

Starting to Understand the Compassion/Loving Kindness/Mercy of God

I was once told that the only way to begin to understand, even in the most basic of terms, the compassion/loving kindness/mercy (choose alternate noun) of God was to become a parent.  No child, no matter how well he or she is raised, no matter how good his or her intentions are will never ever love his/her parent as much as the parent loves him/her.  At the time I heard this I was single and was not planning on marrying, let alone have kids, but it stuck with me.

Fast forward several years and I am now happily married to a beautiful woman and am a father to wonderful little 16 month old son who is the light of every day.  His giggle alone is enough to forget everything that happened on the worst of days.  My son is at that age of temper tantrums and not taking a liking to the word "no."  He's also in the habit of throwing things which can really hurt you if they get you in the right spot.  I was sitting down next to my son who was playing with his toy piano.  He's able to hold it one hand and with it, he just smacked me across the cheek with it.  I went down.  That blow really hurt.  I immediately corrected him and took the piano away and then went to get some ice to counter any bruising or swelling that may ensue.

I sat in my chair for awhile icing down my cheek and for the rest of the evening, my son would come up to my chair and put his head down between my legs while grasping my knees.  When he came up to me, his expression was not a happy one, but almost as if he was experiencing some regret.  I wasn't mad at him; he simply doesn't know better at his age.  Nonetheless, it still looked like he was apologizing to me and feeling guilty about what he had done.  I didn't want my son to feel guilty or bad in any way so I picked him up and held him, assuring him that I was not angry and that I loved him.

At that one singular instance, I understood, as much as any human can, the compassion and mercy of God.  Here was this little boy, feeling bad (and it may not have been due to his hitting me, but this was too much of a coincidence) and coming to me.  And I, sitting in my chair, nursing my wound (which turned out to be nothing), was not angry in the least.  Would I have felt the same if my son didn't come up to me like he had?  I believe so.

We all wound God every day in our sins.  Does He still forgive even if we don't come up to Him and look like we're sorry?  Yes.  Do we understand why?  No.  While we dwell on earth, we cannot just openly look upon the majesty of God, but can only perceive Him and His Energies piece-meal and opaquely.  I started to understand.  God doesn't forgive because we're repentant (some of us; most, probably aren't), but because He loves and out of love created.  In the same way, I did not harbor resentment towards my little boy nor want him to be punished, but forgave him, not because of his act, but because he is my son.  A tautology, I'm sure and circular reasoning.  But if there is a better reason to forgive because I am someone's child, I don't know what it is and I don't want to know.