Complexity as Mystery

I love and hate theological debates. I love analyzing information, sifting evidence, testing assumptions with the tools of logic, seeking truth. But when it comes to the Bible, the variety of types of literature and the vast spectrum of cultures and time can make the evidence very complex. There are certain questions that seem like they ought to deserve a black and white answer, and many people come down on one of two main sides or schools of thought. Predestination, for example. Is it by God's will or by our choice that we believe and trust God, entering into his eternal family and life? Or suffering. Is it God's choice or Satan's affliction that brings death through cancer to a loved one? I hate these debates because I think the answers are complex beyond our understanding. This is not to say that we should stop trying to understand, learn or explore the depths of God's character and his Word. Quite the opposite. In fact, I would say the older I get and the more I know, the less certain I become about a simple and sure answer on any subject. Abortion, for example. It is an act abhorred in Christian circles. But the circumstances facing those who seek it are among the most difficult in this life. Indignity. Poverty. Isolation. Mockery. Disgust. Suicide. Resentful bitterness toward ones own child. All are potential outcomes of choosing to have that baby. How can I just say, "Make abortion illegal," and feel like I have done right? I have tried to take away a desperate woman's (albeit false) hope while offering nothing of myself, no sacrifice of love or compassion or even understanding. The point is, nothing meaningful in this life is easy, and few things are simple. To act otherwise is usually a way to make ourselves feel better about difficult issues we don't really understand. I've found that the truth between these debates is usually "some of both, and more." Does God predestine or do we choose? Yes, and more. Does God choose pain or does Satan afflict? Yes, and more. I recently thought of a good analogy while watching the beautiful face of my sleeping four-year-old son. This kid is his own man. I mean, you can see bits of me and bits of my husband and some of our personality traits have rubbed off on him, but all in all, he is quite unique. He doesn't really look like either of us. He is very very strong willed and has his own vision of the world. He is a fighter. If someone were to say, "Well, he comes from you and your husband, which does he take after? What has he inherited from you and what from his father?" my answer would be, "uh...Well, he has my eyes, and maybe my mouth. Dad's hair mostly, but it's straight instead of curly, and his jaw. He's as rascally as a windy day, which he gets from who knows where. And if he ever runs into a bad guy he's going to run up and try to punch him in the face. Oh and he loves to tell stories...maybe that's from me. And he loves to pretend and climb and... he's really his own person. He's a little of me and a little of his dad and mostly himself." That's how I feel about God's truth. When I try to come at a scripture to figure out which school of thought is "right," I usually end up pretty frustrated. But if I let the truth wash over me, it feels...big. Pure. A little scary. Weighty with the glory of God. And definitely not fully comprehensible. So let us put complexity into words, let us seek truth. And then let us admit our ignorance and smallness and revel in awe at the great mystery of God. Job 42:5-6 I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.