Christ had to be rejected and killed before he was resurrected and glorified.

Similarly we must reject elements of our life and die to them, to experience spiritual growth.

Sometimes dreams must die because they are unhealthy. Sometimes dreams must die because we are called to a different task.

I seem to have a life like anyone else’s life, rejecting what God offers. The believers and non-believers I know experience the good, the bad, and the ugly in life pretty similarly.

If this life was all there is to existence itself then I might be convinced to join you in rejecting what God offers, because it seems as if I don’t need it. There’s a lot of philosophy in that one sentence, and a lot of historical knowledge/experience that suggests it isn’t correct. That historical knowledge/experience comes from many sources, not just Christianity.

It’s almost game time, so time to log off and go prepare the food.

The first good, the fundamental good, is God; and the first good for humans is to know and to love Him.

It’s not that God does no good for those who do not love Him. He gave His life for His enemies! But those who will not accept the fundamental good will not experience the other goods that He offers. The first step toward this fundamental good is to recognize that He exists, that He is good, and that we need Him. Rejecting that, one rejects everything else God may offer.

[Philosophical theology] would not affirm that everything has a good outcome for every person. It would, however, affirm that for those who love God and are called according to his purpose, God works all things together for good. (italics added)

and

God can and does work everything to the good of those who love and follow Him.(italics added)

What kind of loving God is this, Tom, who only acts for the benefit of Christians who believe exactly as you do? This is a God I can’t believe in, a God I want nothing to do with.

You raise a significant issue. Yes, bad things happen, and the Bible still says that death is an enemy, not a good in itself.

Could I say to grieving parents that God’s plan is just what they would want for themselves if they knew what it was? There is a difference between philosophical theology and pastoral theology. They both understand and agree on the same truths, but they hae different purposes.

Philosophical theology would affirm that God is always good, but that situations and experiences are not. It would insist on the reality of loss, pain, and evil. It would not affirm that everything has a good outcome for every person. It would, however, affirm that for those who love God and are called according to his purpose, God works all things together for good. That passage goes on to explain God’s goodness in every circumstance. It reminds us that His own Son was brutally murdered. God has something powerfully in common with every grieving parent.

Even this passage, though, does not affirm that everything is good. Rather, it says that God can and does work everything to the good of those who love and follow Him. This is God’s awesome redemptive work, best exemplified in Christ’s resurrection.

That’s the philosophical theology side. The pastoral theology side affirms exactly the same truths, but it would not likely do what you said:

Tell a parent who’s just lost a child that “God’s plan is exactly what you’d want for yourself if you knew what it was.”

If I were in the position of ministering to a grieving parent I would first listen, support, and cry with them. If they asked “why?” I would say, “I don’t know. I know that God is good, but I don’t know why this happened.” I would try to tune in to where they were in the grief process, what their needs were, and what they were ready to hear. At some point, perhaps early but probably later, I would help them look for God’s redemptive purposes. I would expect it to be a slow process taking perhaps years, and I would expect it to be their process of discovery, guided by truths from God’s word, and not my process of making pronouncements for them.

This is not just theoretical. I have not lost a child, thank God, and I would never, ever hope to go through that pain. My experiences of loss do not measure that high. I have friends who have been through that, though, and they still strongly–very strongly–affirm God’s goodness.

Two authors have written very eloquently about the loss of their wives, and how God worked good in them in spite of the loss. I recommend to you A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis and A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken.

Humans built the home I bought, they advertised it, I happened to be looking, and I happened to be first, the builders made a profit, and I got the home I was looking for. No god was needed for this transaction. What was needed? A buyer and a seller, desires, and chance.

If I ever have a son, I’m gonna name him Chance. He’ll be able to accomplish anything without even trying.

I didn’t mention it again this time, but a couple of times before this in this series I said this is not about proving points, but rather about explaining what Christianity is. This post was not intended to prove Christianity or miracles, but to illustrate how the resurrection principle applied at one point in my life. If I were trying to prove to a skeptic that this was God at work, I would have written it differently, but that was not my purpose this time.

Thanks, though, for the encouragement about the writing.

I looked further afield, and found some really great, spacious homes that were inexpensive, and new construction. But due to the distance, it was not going to work for my family. I tried to find a way to make the commute a practical one, but I could not do it. When the realization hit, I felt pretty awful. It felt like my dreams of living in a really nice home were dashed.

But then I found a small new subdivision that was local and in a perfect location. When I went into the sales office, I was stunned to find the best home still available. It was such an incredible find that I joked that the home must have been built on an old native American burial ground, and we were the only ones who didn’t know it. We bought the home, and lived happily ever after.

The only difference between this story and yours is that I didn’t pray to God to find the home, and I didn’t subsequently believe that God put the ad in the paper, and I didn’t believe that God allowed me to be the first to put the down-payment on the home, etc.

Humans built the home I bought, they advertised it, I happened to be looking, and I happened to be first, the builders made a profit, and I got the home I was looking for. No god was needed for this transaction. What was needed? A buyer and a seller, desires, and chance.

What you are describing is superstition. I know you don’t like the term superstition because you think it equates your entire belief system with tarot or something. That’s not what I’m saying because Christianity is not reliant upon (nor always a case of) superstition.

But what you are doing here is engaging in a scheme that admits confirmation, but never falsification. Tarot works in the same way as your type of prayer. You assign the good events to the bin for the obviously good works of God, and assign the bad events to the obscure or not obviously good works of God.

So, I don’t think God made you a writer, Tom. I think you made you a good writer.