“Vanity of vanities, said the preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.” (Ecclesiastes 1:2, LXX)

Last May, I voluntarily admitted myself to a psych ward after a suicide attempt left me questioning my place in this world. They had about five books available for patients, including a shoddy translation of the Bible. After a few days of being stabilized on medications, I picked it up and turned to Ecclesiastes. I had just survived an overdose; needless to say, I possessed quite a somber mindset. I found a slight sense of relief in knowing that the biblical authors were not exempt from the feelings I experienced at that time.

I felt that I had let myself down. Moreover, I felt that God had abandoned me. While in active psychosis, I experienced severe auditory hallucinations. Specifically, I heard the voice of God telling me that I needed to end my life. Earlier that year, after reading Amos and determining that the God of the Bible is a monster, I became an agnostic. Because I had rejected the God of Christianity, I carried the guilt of apostasy. This guilt, along with severe alcohol use and medication withdrawals, led me to believe that God was punishing me for rejecting him.

In the weeks and months following my attempt, I carried the burden of being a moral failure. I found consolation in Ecclesiastes’ message that human beings possess a strong moral standing, while the divine does not. In this post, I wish to survey the Ecclesiastical theodicy that, in many ways, saved my life.

All is Vanity: An Overview

The book of Ecclesiastes may be considered a long list of grievances its author holds concerning God, the world, and human life. At the core of Ecclesiastes, as with much of the ancient didactic wisdom literature (especially in the Bible), is the human experience of suffering. The author of Ecclesiastes, without a doubt, understands the impact suffering has on all breathing creatures; this pain, he understands, is vanity.

The book begins with the repeated use of the word vanity. The Hebrew word he employs, hebel, literally translates to “vapor.”¹ This term indicates that which “is lacking substance, ephemeral, without any result.”² The author does not refer to one singular item or belief, but that all or everything lacks substance. This opening phrase sets the tone for the remainder of the dialogue.

Theology as an Ancient Coping Skill

In antiquity, suffering humans did not have access to resources such as therapy or psychiatry. The field of psychology would not develop for millennia. But trauma is certainly as old as life itself, as is the belief in beings greater than ourselves. People needed a way to cope with suffering, and the greatest help available resided in the hands of the divine. To this day, belief in deities remains a coping strategy in times of hardship.

The picture I have painted in the preceding paragraph is exactly why the question of theodicy is so important. Those of us who believe in something(s) higher than us find it hard to rectify our suffering with their existence. It was no different for the ancient Israelites. To understand what these ancient texts mean, we must consider the framework of the authors’ psyches.

As one researcher says, “[T]here was a common tendency in Israel and Mesopotamia to understand human suffering and trauma in terms of divine punishment and human flourishing in terms of divine favor.”³ …or “both Israelite and Mesopotamian cultures operated within a worldview in which sin—whether disobedience to God/gods or failure to complete a religious ritual to the deities’ satisfaction—resulted in human suffering.”⁴

This concept is seemingly instinctual. We suffer, then we wonder why we are suffering. We ask questions such as, “What have we done to deserve this? Why is God doing this to me?” As I mentioned early on in this blog, such questions alone beg the problem of suffering. The idea that God inflicts suffering upon a person due to that person sinning is known as retributive theology. I think we can all acknowledge that this branch of theology does not provide a satisfactory resolution for the problem of suffering.

And neither does it for Qoheleth.

Retribution Theology Cannot Explain All Suffering

The book of Ecclesiastes is probably the least theological and most philosophical book in the Bible. The key belief behind Qoheleth’s monologue is, “Life is meaningless because actions fail to correspond with their consequences.”⁵ I think our modern translations are flawed in that meaningless carries an overwhelmingly pessimistic connotation. We all know that life is not meaningless. That life is a vapor, and thus it is fleeting, seems to fit better with the overall message of Ecclesiastes.

As I have heard the great biblical scholar Bart Ehrman explain in many debates on suffering, “vapor,” the literal transliteration of hebel in Ecclesiastes, means something that is here one moment and gone the next. That is life. We never know when our last day will be. We never know what tomorrow will bring. Life is not meaningless; our English Bibles do a great injustice to the original text with such translations. Life is a vapor—we need to enjoy it while it lasts.

We cannot live our lives believing what the church says. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). Yes, this verse is true; but it is not the end of the story. There is no need to spend each day worrying that our pasts sins will result in hardships. We need to accept that we are wrong, we sin, and we can still enjoy life. As Qoheleth observes to be true, “A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God” (Ecc. 2:24).

Coherence, Significance, and Purpose in Ecclesiastes

Ecclesiastes is certainly a grim book; however, it is also extremely hopeful. It is truthful in the sense that it acknowledges the pain and misery we face in life. But it also serves as the example of one who, seemingly hopeless, hopes to find the meaning of life. And in my honest opinion, Qoheleth achieved his goal.

We as humans are instinctively inclined to seek out the meaning of life with hopeful hearts. Everyone hopes to see the sun rise another day. It is basic human psychology. In our quest for the meaning of life, psychologists have determined a “threefold scheme comprised of coherence, significance, and purpose.”⁶ Qoheleth, even if indirectly, addresses each of these in Ecclesiastes.

Coherence

We all long for coherence. We become frustrated when life does not make sense; the righteous suffer and the evil receive blessings. This, truly, is meaningless. Being upset when life is illogical is only part of being human. We know that we cannot change this, but we hope that it will all work out in the end.

Significance

We all crave significance. Nobody wants to simply lie down in isolation until the day we pass on. We want to forgive our pasts, make the most of the present, and hope for a better future. It is without a doubt that death is evil, but also inevitable. We all have that same ultimate destiny (Ecc. 9:3) and we hope that when that day comes, we can look back and appreciate our achievements.

Purpose

Lastly, we desire purpose. Whether our goals are to have a great career, find the love of our lives, or provide hope to the hopeless, we desire to know that our efforts are not in vain. We want to know that, at the end of the day, we have done something to make the world a better place. This, too, is not meaningless; it is being human.

Conclusion

Life is fleeting. Qoheleth knew this to be true, and you and I know it to be true. Ultimately, we desire to find the meaning of life through coherence, significance, and purpose. There is no sense in regretting the past, hating the present, and dreading the future. Of those three, the only two that are certain are the past and present. Tomorrow is never guaranteed.

Live each moment like it is your last. Do not waste your time beating yourself up over not going to church that one Sunday, or not making a donation to United Way (it’s only going to their CEO, anyway). We sin. Christian or not, it is important that we correct our ways of wrongdoing, but we cannot forget that life is only a vapor. It is here today, gone tomorrow. We must make it count.

1. Fox, Michael V. “Ancient Near Eastern Wisdom Literature (Didactic).” Religion Compass 5, no. 1 (2011): 6, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1749-8171.2010.00251.x

2. Murphy, Roland E.. Ecclesiastes, Volume 23A. Grand Rapids: HarperCollins Christian Publishing, 2015, 88.

3. Meek, Russell L. and Elizabeth Mehlman. “Resilience through Disclosure and Meaning Making in Qoheleth and the Babylonian Theodicy.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 47, no. 3 (2023): 292. https://doi.org/10.1177/03090892221149047

4. Ibid.

5. Keefer, Arthur. “The Meaning of Life in Ecclesiastes: Coherence, Purpose, and Significance from a Psychological Perspective.” Harvard Theological Review 112, no. 4 (2019): 453. Gale In Context: Biography (accessed June 23, 2024). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A603404458/BIC?u=vic_liberty&sid=summon&xid=605c1299.

6. Ibid., 450.

How long can you stand the pain
How long will you hide your face
How long will you be afraid
Are you afraid
How long will you play this game
Will you fight or will you walk away
How long will you let it burn
Let it burn

Red, “Let it Burn,” track #4 from Until We Have Faces, Essential and Sony Records, 2011

Introduction

Verse 14 harkens back to verses 2-3 and 10, where the psalmist describes his ardent devotion to Yahweh. As the author draws the psalm to a close, he paints one of the most vivid images of hopelessness in the entirety of Scripture or even human literature as a whole. The final line, from whence I have taken the name of this article, is one of the hardest, yet most relatable verses in the Bible. Here, as I will discuss later, the less accurate translations of the Bible (NLT, NIV, ESV, etc.) provide a beautifully creative distortion in the English text.

We do not find the words “happily ever after” at the end of Psalm 88. Instead, we depart from the psyche of a man who has lost it all; hope is not only diminished, it is foreign to him. God has let him down. People have let him down. He has let himself down. And now, he lies on his death bed, possibly composing his final words. They are tragic. The ending alone is part of what makes Psalm 88 the most unique chapter of the Bible.

Psalm 88:14-15 and Divine Hiddenness

But I cry out to you, Adonai;
my prayer comes before you in the morning.
So why, Adonai, do you reject me?
Why do you hide your face from me?

Psalm 88:13-14, Complete Jewish Bible (CJB)

I have already mentioned that the author returns to expressing his loyalty to God in the midst of anguish. Now, this is the third time the psalmist speaks of his prayer coming before God. In verse 2, he cries out to God at night; the second time, in verse 10, his prayer comes before God “every day.”

In verse 14, his prayer comes before God in the morning. What is the significance of this? According to Hebrew tradition, morning is a “time of new beginning when God was expected to demonstrate anew his steadfast love for his people.”¹ Another commentator believes this is a metaphorical reference to the pagan sun god, who puts an end to evil “in the morning” and restores justice.²

A Return to Interrogating God

In verse fifteen, the author again interrogates God. Like the previous questions in the psalm, the author’s goal is to provoke God to act. Unlike the earlier questions, these two are not sarcastic; they should be taken literally. A good comparison, again, would be Job. The entire purpose of Job’s plea is to get answers from God. As we know, the answers Job receives are unsatisfactory; in Psalm 88, there is no answer at all. The two pieces share common ground in that the “supplicant wants God to account for his contractual breach.”⁴

It is also imperative to note the author’s choice of words in questioning why God hides his face. The reference to God hiding his face occurs numerous times throughout the Hebrew Testament. And it is never a good thing. A thorough article on this phrase, as it relates to Psalm 88, contends that it denotes either divine hiddenness with hostile divine presence or divine hiddenness with divine absence.⁵

Job and Psalm 88 are excellent examples of the former. While God is not entirely absent in either, he remains hidden except to provide hostile intervention. Think of it this way: God is either acting passive-aggressively, as he does in Job and Psalm 88, or he is completely invisible and silent.

Psalm 88:16-18

Since my youth I have been miserable, close to death;
I am numb from bearing these terrors of yours.
Your fierce anger has overwhelmed me,
your terrors have shriveled me up.
They surge around me all day like a flood,
from all sides they close in on me.
You have made friends and companions shun me;
the people I know are hidden from me. (CJB)

Psalm 88:16-18, CJB

From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
    I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
    your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
    they have completely engulfed me.
You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
    darkness is my closest friend.

Psalm 88:16-18, New International Version (NIV)

For the conclusion of Psalm 88, I have included a textually accurate translation (CJB) and a popular English translation of the Bible (NIV). As you know, I almost exclusively use CJB or NIV, though I often feel the CJB is the superior translation. In Psalm 88, however, I think the NIV translation succeeds in providing an artistic translation, if you will.

Once again, the psalmist decries God’s wrath and identifies him as the enemy who has inflicted him with suffering. He formalizes his final grievance against God, not holding back in his reproach. Heiman is no stranger to suffering; he complains that it has marred his life, since his youth. For the length of his existence on earth, up until his deathbed poem, he has experienced the wrath of God.

Divine Terrors

The writer accuses God of forcing him into situational pain throughout his life, unloading his “divine terrors” that leave him in despair, the wrath that has smothered him, and, again, terrors that have destroyed him. God’s horrors have engulfed him as a flood that consumes everything, with the waters representing the chaos God has caused in his lifetime.⁶

Here again, God is not only the psalmist’s reverent enemy, to whom he makes his plea but also the subject. Heiman acknowledges that God has always terrorized him, but now these terrors have intensified and pushed him to the brink of death (v. 15).⁷ The author again relies on the imagery of drowning, climaxing in the final word, “darkness.”⁸ He is drowning in God’s wake, reaching for his help but being ignored, and finally sinks to the bottom of the sea, encapsulated by darkness.

Most psalms end on a positive note; Psalm 88, on the other hand, contains the most tragic ending of all. Once again, to top the pain and suffering God has caused the psalmist, he has abandoned him in social isolation. Not only is God not actively present, but he has taken friends, family, and neighbors away from this man. He is eclipsed by darkness. And despite the increasing pain and suffering, the psalmist knows he must suffer alone.

Everything he loves is gone. As his life draws to a close, he has nothing but himself and the God who has both hidden himself and tortured him. He cannot even reach out to his friends; they have abandoned him. This is precisely where I prefer the NIV translation, but not under the standard of accuracy. For portraying the picture in full. His friends are gone; the only friend that remains is darkness. As some scholars argue, the final word, “darkness,” sums up Psalm 88 perfectly.⁹

Conclusion

This concludes my in-depth study of my favorite psalm, Psalm 88. As I mentioned in the first entry, this psalm helped me through the process of grieving my mother’s death. I watched a sermon on it a week or two before her passing; never before had I found a scripture that so clearly resonated with my soul. Like Heiman, I could see nothing but the darkness; I had no reason or desire to seek the light because the light had abandoned me.

I did not need positive, Christian affirmations when I lost my mom. I needed to know that it was okay to feel abandoned by God. It was okay to be angry, depressed, and sorrowful. There was no use in finding the goodness of God at that time; it was far more important to search for the significance of self. God had forsaken me. His face was hidden. I did not have time to thank him for making me suffer. I needed nothing more than to know my darkness so that I could defeat the darkness. God made it clear to me that he would not help with that.

The message that I take away from Psalm 88 is that it is okay to call God out. Sometimes, as Psalm 88, Job, and Amos make crystal clear, God causes our suffering. In these moments, while Christianity encourages us to be ignorant and continually praise God, the Bible instructs us to be upset. If God can be upset with us, we can be frustrated with God.

On a more personal note…

I do not believe the God of the Bible is perfect or entirely moral. This is a controversial position to hold, but I cling to it. I encourage everyone to think and believe for themselves, without the aid of church or religion. My beliefs are not perfect; but beliefs in the supernatural cannot be proven correct, at least not in this lifetime. My goal in this project has been to present my beliefs of God, which are significantly based on Psalm 88.

I hope you have enjoyed these posts. I hope that you will find the light in any darkness you face. I hope that light will overcome the darkness. It happened for me, although not in the way I expected. I learned that I could not accept the God I was forced to believe as a child. Despite this lesson, I found one thing for certain: there is always hope.

1. Thornhill, A. Chadwick. “A Theology of Psalm 88.” Evangelical Quarterly 87, no. 1 (2015): 52.

2. Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar, Erich Zenger, and Linda M. Maloney. Psalms 2: A Commentary on Psalms 51-100. Edited by Klaus Baltzer. 1517 Media, 2005. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctvb6v84t. 396.

3. Mandolfo, Carleen. “Psalm 88 and the Holocaust: Lament in Search of a Divine Response.” Biblical Interpretation 15, no. 2 (2007): 164.  https://doi.org/10.1163/156851507X168476.

4. Ibid.

5. Fabrikant-Burke, O. Y. “Rethinking Divine Hiddenness in the Hebrew Bible: The Hidden God as the Hostile God in Psalm 88.” The Harvard Theological Review 114, no. 2 (2021): 178.

6. Longman, Tremper, III. Psalms: An Introduction and Commentary, InterVarsity Press, 2014. 418.

7. Thornhill, A. Chadwick. “A Theology of Psalm 88.” Evangelical Quarterly 87, no. 1 (2015): 53.

8. Grogan, Geoffrey W. Psalms. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2008. 134.

9. Ibid.

Psalm 88 is a chapter of the Bible that evangelicals and fundamentalists prefer to skip over. Whereas much of the Bible is full of people singing God’s praises and speaking of his perfection, Psalm 88 does the opposite. The author of this psalm is so entrenched in suffering that he cannot speak of God the way his biblical counterparts do. The result we have today is one of the rawest, most insightful, and most human chapters of the Bible. And it is absolutely beautiful.

I first stumbled across this Psalm during my second semester of biblical studies. It was also two weeks or so before my mother passed away from liver cancer. One of the few pastors I have ever appreciated, the late Timothy Keller, preached a sermon on living through dark times. His source for this sermon, the greatest sermon I ever heard, is Psalm 88. When I heard him read this chapter, I was stunned. This biblical author did not sugarcoat his struggles. He radically questions the goodness of God. Can we not do the same?

Hearing this sermon, which I have included the link to in the footnote, certainly changed my life.¹ Had I not heard this sermon or read this Psalm, the process of grief would have been much darker and strenuous than it already was. Whereas Christians have always answered my question of suffering with “God works in mysterious ways” or “Everything happens for a reason,” Psalm 88 opened my eyes to the need for skepticism of God’s “mysterious ways.”

Those of us who have departed the church, or are still involved to some degree, have all been told that it is wrong to question God. After all, he is always right, just, and moral, correct? When somebody is going through a crisis, we do not need to tell them that they are in the wrong to question God. We should encourage them to ask these questions. Repressing our true feelings of God and the world cause nothing but more harm.

Background: An Anonymous Psalmist?

We do not know much about the author of Psalm 88; unlike most psalms, it is not attributed to King David or Asaph. Verse 0 in the CJB reads, “A song. A psalm of the sons of Korach. For the leader. Set to ‘Sickness that Causes Suffering.’ A maskil of Heiman the Ezrachi.” This is the only contribution attributed to Heiman in the Hebrew Bible (whether he truly wrote it or not). Heiman is mentioned in 1 Kings 4:31, described as a wiseman and poet during the time of King Solomon.²

Throughout the psalm, Heiman speaks as though he is on his deathbed. Scholars debate whether this is literal or figurative; suggestions include that he is indeed dying, he is struggling with spiritual depression, or the psalm is a reflection of the biblical character Job.³ Whatever the case may be, one thing is for certain; whatever evil circumstances the psalmist is facing, he struggles with knowing that it is all God’s fault.⁴

Psalm 88:1-2

Adonai, God of my salvation,
when I cry out to you in the night,
let my prayer come before you,
turn your ear to my cry for help!

Psalm 88:1-2

The psalm begins with an honest, sincere cry to the God of the author’s understanding. As one commentator denotes, “Indeed, by the end of the psalm, this one line will scarcely be remembered for all of the pain that pours out.”⁵ Another writes that verse one is the “only clear statement of faith” within the psalm.⁶ The psalmist is both angry and depressed throughout the remainder.

There exists plenty of quality research exploring the psychological connotations of the psalmist’s plea in Psalm 88. Humans behave and react in psychological manners as a result of trauma.⁷ The Kubler-Ross model, for instance, offers behavioral responses to times of distress including denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Each of these emotions is present in Psalm 88 except for denial and acceptance.⁸ In verses 3-5 particularly, which we will explore below, the author clearly expresses depression.

Psalm 88:3

For I am oversupplied with troubles,
which have brought me to the brink of Sh’ol.

Psalm 88:3

After the psalmist’s singular thought of adoration, the tone immediately changes to death and despair. Heiman speaks of being troubled to such an extreme that he is close to Sheol (death). Richard D. Philips believes that, if composed today, the author would likely be battling cancer because he continually grows weaker and knows that death is imminent.⁹

Now, I of course want to comment on the psalmist’s statement that he is close to Sheol. I have previously discussed the concept of Sheol as it pertains to the afterlife. Sheol is not our contemporary concept of hell. It is simply the grave. It is the place everyone goes after death, according to the Hebrew Bible.

Psalm 88:4-5

For I am oversupplied with troubles,
which have brought me to the brink of Sh’ol.
I am counted among those going down to the pit,
like a man who is beyond help,

Psalm 88:4-5

When fraught with suffering, we tend to question where God is. The church tells us that God is everywhere; he is omnipresent. But in this Psalm, God is not absent from the psalmist’s suffering; he is actively present, but in a hostile manner.¹⁰ Much like in the book of Amos, God is the direct cause of the psalmist’s suffering. Contrary to another modern theodicy, the psalmist’s suffering does not come from a satan figure. It comes from the God he serves.

Now, let us examine the feelings this psalmist is conveying. He speaks out of great anguish and despair. In verses 4-5, he identifies himself as: one cast down to Sheol, one “going down to the pit” and “like a man who is beyond help.” Whereas much of the Bible states that God is present during times of suffering, Psalm 88 is marred with images of abandonment, divine hostility, and lostness.¹¹

Another focus in this psalm is satisfaction with life. Throughout the Hebrew and Greek Bibles, we read stories of characters who depart from life having lived a successful or fulfilled life or finding the favor of God before death.¹² However, in Psalm 88, the author recognizes that he has achieved neither of these. Instead, he accepts that he must find satisfaction in the pain and misery that has marked his life; that is his greatest accomplishment, which he is forced to reflect upon on his deathbed.

Conclusion

The composer of Psalm 88 has every right to protest the goodness of God. In what I have described of Psalm 88, the psalmist paints a picture of the suffering through which he is living. Verses 1-5 describe the psalmist’s suffering; the remainder of the psalm consists of his rebuke of God. What we understand thus far is that Heiman is dying. Whether is death is physical, mental, or spiritual, we know that he is at his end.

He has faced the wrath of God. For what cause? For any cause at all? We will explore this more in future posts. We can acknowledge that the suffering Heiman faces is not the direct cause of Satan. It is not the cause of physical enemies. It is God’s fault. It is God’s fault that that Heiman is in such agonizing pain. And we shall soon see what the biblical author has to say about the inflictor of his suffering.

1. Timothy Keller, “How to Deal With Dark Times,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulmaUtbayGY

2. Phillips, Richard D. Psalms 73-106. Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 2020, 154. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/liberty/reader.action?docID=6470298

3. Ibid.

4. Laha, Robert R. “Between Text and Sermon: Psalm 88.” Interpretation (Richmond) 69, no. 1 (2015): 81. https://web.p.ebscohost.com/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?vid=0&sid=2a863135-7b18-43e7-9255-23aca6885a2e%40redis

5. deClaisse-Walford, Nancy L., et al. The Book of Psalms, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/liberty/detail.action?docID=4860097, 511.

6. Phillips, Richard D. Psalms 73-106. Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Publishing, 2020, 154.

7. Jameson, Beverley. “Difficult Texts: Psalm 88.” Theology. 117, no. 5 (2014): 357. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/epub/10.1177/0040571X14537435

8. Ibid., 358.

9. Phillips, Richard D. (Richard Davis). Psalms 73-106. Phillipsburg, New Jersey: P&R Publishing, 2020. 154.

10. Fabrikant-Burke, O. “Rethinking Divine Hiddenness in the Hebrew Bible: The Hidden God as the Hostile God in Psalm 88.” Harvard Theological Review 114, no. 2 (04, 2021): 159-81, https://go.openathens.net/redirector/liberty.edu?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/rethinking-divine-hiddenness-hebrew-bible-hidden/docview/2529142003/se-2.

11. deClaisse-Walford, Nancy L., et al. The Book of Psalms, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014, 512.

12. Mare, Leonard P. “Facing the Deepest Darkness of Despair and Abandonment: Psalm 88 and the Life of Faith.” Old Testament Essays 27, no. 1 (2014): 182.

I am closer to God than you are. Directly or indirectly, this is the ignorant idea some pastors base their entire theology upon and our culture essentially forces us to believe. Religious American culture leads us to believe that those who possess a career as a pastor are morally superior than those who are not. This, of course, is no groundbreaking issue; it has existed throughout the entirety of church history. For a hefty portion of the past two millennia, the pope actually had political authority. A man who, as my mother would say, still put his pants on one leg at a time.

We had an authoritarian pastor at the church I attended in middle/early high school. The same man who is responsible for my questioning of the Christian faith in the first place. He understood his career as a pastor as a “calling” for him to fulfill the work of the Lord. But he also believed he was farther along in the faith than anyone else in the church. His prayers carried more weight than those of his congregants. Why, was it the soft piano tune he asked the worship lady to play each week during his long-winded prayers?

The truth is, pastors are reinforced by the concept that they are closer to God than we are. Church culture breeds the idea that religious leaders have a closer connection to God, because they have been “called.” There is an ancient example of the dangers of this thinking. There are words in the New Testament that advocate against such beliefs; I will get to those later in the post. I would like to start with the mythological story of Icarus.

Icarus, the Bird with a Broken Wing

The ancient Greek myth starts with the imprisoned Daedalus and his son, Icarus. Daedalus builds wings for himself and his son so they could fly away from Crete, where they were imprisoned. When the time to escape comes, Daedalus hands Icarus his wings and gives him a warning: do not fly too close to the sun, as the wings are fashioned with beeswax. Icarus does not heed his father’s warning and flies too close to the sun, melting his wings and causing him to fall to his death.¹

The tale of Icarus is rich with symbolism. Obviously, the primary theme is the negative effects of hubris or excessive pride. Had Icarus used the wings responsibly, as he was instructed, he would not have died such a tragic death. But his false sense of pride got to him and made him ignorant. And thus, we now have the idiom, “don’t fly too close to the sun.”

When pastors receive their M.Div (or simply get hired on, with no educational training, as with my arrogant pastor), they are handed a certificate of responsibility. That is, to teach the Bible as it was written and to adopt the ministry of Christ, characterized by loving all people (not just their congregants). But suddenly the words of those bestowing the award become the warning of Daedalus and the pastor becomes Icarus.

Pastoral Icarus Syndrome is real. Pastoral egos become so conflated with ideas that they are morally superior, they are God’s chosen, and they are closer to God that they turn a blind eye to the suffering of their congregations. And eventually, these religious leaders fly too close to God that they burn up and fall from grace. Look at what happened to the fundamentalist stalwart Johnny Hunt.

Mark 12:38-40, a condemnation of authoritative religious leaders

Although the tale of Icarus is never mentioned in the Bible, it is entirely possible that some of the characters/writers of the Bible would know it. The most popular version of the Icarus story originated around 8CE, fifty years or so before Mark’s Gospel. Jesus issued a stark warning to those suffering from Pastoral Icarus Syndrome, “These men will be punished most severely” (Mark 12:40b NIV).

Mark 12:38-40 showcases Jesus’ disdain for prideful religious leaders. Read the full passage below:

As he taught them, he said, “Watch out for the kind of Torah-teachers who like to walk around in robes and be greeted deferentially in the marketplaces, who like to have the best seats in the synagogues and take the places of honor at banquets, who like to swallow up widows’ houses while making a show of davvening (prayer) at great length. Their punishment will be all the worse!” (Mark 12:38-40, CJB)

There is much to unpack in these short three verses. A helpful comparison would be Matthew’s account in chapter 23 of his Gospel. The chapter is a full discourse from Jesus speaking against the religious stalwarts of his day. Space, unfortunately, does not allow a full treatment of Matthew 23 and hardly enough to discuss Mark 12:38-40. I will try my best to address this verse concisely.

Jesus essentially lays out a list of grave actions that the religious leaders actively participate in. Many of these accurately pertain to contemporary pastors as well; wearing the finest of clothes, having the best seats (or “Pastor Parking ONLY”), taking places of honor in society, preying on the vulnerable, and making long-winded prayers in public. Most commentaries heavily emphasize Jesus’ criticism of the scribes who “swallow up the widows’ houses.” After some research and critical thought, I understand why.

In the biblical age, women were viewed as more vulnerable than men. Possibly the most vulnerable people of society were widows. The Old Testament, in addition to Judaic legal and prophetic traditions, emphasized the importance of respecting and protecting widows (e.g., Ex. 22:21-24; Deut. 24:17-22; Isa. 1:17; Jer. 7:6).² Therefore, Jesus is condemning the religious leaders of committing a horridly grave sin. But he does not stop there; he adds that they cover such actions up by making shows of their prayers.

Whether Jesus means the scribes literally or figuratively took advantage of widows, there is a certain underlying message in his statement. That is, it is almost defining of religious leaders to prey upon the most vulnerable members of society. Think about it. People have faith because they want to make sense of this thing called life. People want to believe in something greater than them; this is true of all of us. We all want to make sense of the suffering in this world and in our own lives. And oftentimes, in our weakest moments, that is when we turn to the church.

But what do we get? Told we need to tithe to receive salvation? That if we make any mistakes we will burn in a fiery place called hell? That God hates non-heterosexual people? That the person on the stage is closer to God than we are? Friends, being a pastor does not earn you God’s favor. It does not mean they were chosen to complete God’s work. Don’t get me wrong, there are some great pastors out there! But they are no closer to God than you are. They are not called to be above you, they are called to be your servants.

Conclusion

The religious leaders of Jesus’ day needed to eat some humble pie. The religious leaders of our age, and throughout history, need to as well. They are not saints. Jesus derided them for abusing their power and for preying on vulnerable people. This problem continues today. Look at the sexual abuse scandals in the Southern Baptist Convention. Look at Jimmy Swaggart, Johnny Hunt, and TB Joshua, among countless others. Church history is marred by the putrid stain of pastors and priests sexually abusing people who are looking for a solution to their pain and suffering; instead, they got more. And Jesus informed such sorry religious “leaders” that their punishment will be all the worse (Mark 12:40).

Icarus flew too close to the sun. He crashed. Religious leaders often fly too close to God. Some even become trapped in the delusion that they are God. But as sure as Icarus’ fate was sealed, so are the fates of the pathetic Christian leaders who have and continue to take advantage of their status, ignorantly viewing it as favor. The sun continues to shine brighter on such scandals. And church attendance, the holy grail of Christian leaders, continues to plummet.

Will the church wake up? Will pastors ever read the words of their own messiah? Or will they continue to be defined by Pastoral Icarus Syndrome?

1. “Icarus”. GreekMythology.com Website, 17 May. 2022, https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Mortals/Icarus/icarus.html.

2. Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012. 998.

Well no, actually. I can already hear the fundamentalists screaming, “But the snake in the Garden was Satan!” But where does the Bible say this? My favorite Christian dumbtank, Answers in Genesis, argues that it is no stretch to believe the Genesis serpent is Satan, because two verses in Revelation assert that Satan is a serpent.¹ Satan and his minions possess the ability to enter humans and animals to complete their evil tasks. Great, demon-possessed snakes… sounds like an idea for the creators of Sharknado.

My concern in this post is not on the Genesis serpent, however. My concern is with the first reference to “Satan” we have in the Bible. Satan first appears in the Book of Job, which some argue to be the oldest book in the Bible. But the Satan of Job is not the Satan of contemporary Christianity, or even Second Temple Judaism. The Satan is a member of God’s heavenly council. Let’s take a closer look at who this figure truly is.

The Satan: Who?

The Satan, in Job, is not so much a character as an office that reports to God. Modern scholars typically accept that the Hebrew title, ha-Satan, means “adversary,” “accuser,” or “executioner.”² Looking at the dynamics between the two in the prologue to Job, it is clear that Satan is more of a subordinate to God, rather than an adversary. In the book, Satan carries out the work of God. He is, after all, a member of God’s celestial council.

There is some debate that the book of Job is actually a pagan book. This is because God does not act alone; he acts through his henchmen, including the Satan. These council members are, however, lower than God. In Job, they are literally identified as “the sons of God”—including the Satan. This makes us stop and wonder, who is really the bad guy in Job? Is it the Satan, for attacking Job? Or is it Yahweh, for selecting Job and allowing his subordinates to determine to torture Job?

The Satan, in Job, is God’s instrument of suffering. We in our 21^st Century thinking typically believe that “the mean ol’ devil” is the enemy of Job. But this could not be any further from the truth. God is the cause of Job’s suffering. As one commentator notes, “The dialogue does not explore the possibility of Job’s suffering coming from any hand other than God’s.”³ In this proper reading of Job, the Satan is the knife that God uses to cut Job. God is the antagonist of this story, not Job, and not the Satan.

The Satan: What does he do?

What do you think the Satan of Job does for work? Poke people with his pitchfork? Do the exact opposite of everything God does? Lead an army of demons against the church? The answer may shock you: he is sent to judge and punish the wicked. He does not recruit humans to torment the righteous, he tortures those who are not righteous. One researcher argues that the Satan functions as “the eyes of Yahweh,” in finding the unrighteous and serving retribution.⁴ Because Job is righteous, the Satan must receive special permission from God to chastise him.

The figure of Satan as we know today is the product of intertestamental books. As we already know, the God of the Hebrew Bible is violent and wrathful. Once we get to the prophets (e.g., Amos) God is all but Israel’s greatest adversary. Portraying God as the source of suffering started to become a bit complicated. Thus, the apocryphal literature made the manifestation of evil a powerful deity named Satan. The New Testament would go on to expound upon this figure, the scapegoat of causal suffering, and make him the archenemy of God.

But in Job, Satan is not a monster. The Satan we know today is not present in the book of Job. The Satan, the office of God that causes human suffering, accomplished the necessary work of Yahweh. The Hebrew Bible never posits that God has an archenemy who inflicts the world with suffering. No, the deity who makes Job suffer is the same deity who created him and the world. The God of the Bible is the cause of suffering throughout the Old Testament. He is not merely a God who is sometimes wrathful, as the church often portrays the Hebrew God. The Hebrew God is the God who makes both the righteous and the wicked suffer.

There are only three places in the Bible that make reference to “the Satan:” Job 1-2, Zecheriah 3, and 1 Chronicles 21. None of these verses depict a tall, red goatman holding a pitchfork. None of these passages depict an opponent of God. The problem of suffering produced the idea of a Satan character. Judaism reached a point where explaining God as the cause of suffering was not conducive; the religion needed to blame suffering on someone, and thus, Satan was created.

Conclusion

Is Satan real? I do not believe so. The Satan of Christianity evolved as a way to explain evil and suffering. The Satan of Job is an officer of God who accomplishes God’s dirty work. He is God’s hitman, in a sense. Christianity needed a scapegoat. Saying that God causes suffering is in line with what the Old Testament teaches, but that is not a pretty idea. It will not cause the church’s numbers to spike. So, a villain was necessary. Since the intertestamental period, the character of Satan has evolved into the being we know today. But in Job, Satan was not what we think he is today. Because of the church, we read our own ideas of Satan into Job. But that is not biblical exegesis. That is indoctrination by the church.

1. Bodie Hodge, “Was Satan the Actual Serpent in the Garden?” Answers in Genesis, https://answersingenesis.org/angels-and-demons/satan/was-satan-the-actual-serpent-in-the-garden/

2. Ryan E. Stokes, “Satan, YHWH’s Executioner” Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol. 133, No. 2 (Summer 2014), 252. https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/10.15699/jbibllite.133.2.251.pdf?refreqid=fastly-default%3Adfacac0deec924a3dd8e0051d71c9df1&ab_segments=&origin=&initiator=&acceptTC=1

3. Wilson, Lindsay. Job. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015, 190.

4. Stokes, Ryan E.. The Satan : How God’s Executioner Became the Enemy. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2019. 42. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/liberty/reader.action?docID=6172714#

I heard this concept preached numerous times as a child. But I always questioned it. As I got older and learned more about just how wicked this world is, I learned that my pastors and church leaders were wrong. Suffering can be far more than just overwhelming. It can truly break a person. And more often than not, it does.

God giving people more than they can handle is certainly no novel idea; in fact, there are examples in Scripture. We should be looking to these examples rather than trying to customize God into a cookie cutter. Saying that God will never make someone suffer more than they could bear is not just wrong, it is a lie. It is denial. The God of the Bible is not Mr. Nice Guy, he is a monster at times. There is no use in denying the clear-cut evidence.

Misconception #1: Misquoting 1 Corinthians 10:13

One of the primary sources of this saying is a misinterpretation of 1 Corinthians 10:13, which states, “No temptation has seized you beyond what people normally experience, and God can be trusted not to allow you to be tempted beyond what you can bear” (CJB).

While this verse acknowledges that God provides a way out of temptation, it does not suggest that God will shield us from all challenges or trials. Temptation and trials are distinct concepts, and conflating them leads to a fundamental misunderstanding of the message. Reading the verse as it is written is not rocket science. Knowing how to differentiate “temptation” and “suffering” does not require a perfect IQ. It requires common sense, which is not included in pastoral training.

Misconception #2: Ignoring Biblical Examples of Overwhelming Trials

Throughout the Bible, numerous figures faced trials and tribulations that seemed insurmountable. Job, for instance, endured the loss of his wealth, health, and family, encountering suffering far beyond what any person could handle alone. Yet, the story of Job is one of resilience and unwavering faith in God.

Similarly, the Apostle Paul faced immense challenges, including persecution, imprisonment, and physical ailments. In 2 Corinthians 1:8-9, Paul explicitly acknowledges being burdened beyond his ability to endure, emphasizing that his reliance was on God’s power, not his own strength.

Furthermore, to use one of the darkest stories in the entire Bible, we will go to the book of Judges. Judges 19 is a passage you will never hear in the church. As the business of the church thrives on customer satisfaction (attendees leaving with a spiritual high and good feelings), preaching from Judges 19 would equate to giving away the Coca-Cola recipe or Colonel Sanders 11 herbs and spices. It would send the weekly tithes down the drain. And no pastor wants that!

Judges 19 tells a morbid tale of rape and murder. An unnamed Levite takes his concubine and travels to the “House of Adonai.” Night falls, and the couple find an old man working in his field. Some evil men come to the house, demanding the Levite come out so they can have sex with him. The old man offers his virgin daughter and the Levite’s concubine to the men. He even tells them, “Mistreat them, do what you want to them, but don’t do such a degrading thing to this man.” The mob takes the concubine and rapes and abuses her all night long. At dawn, she crawls to the doorstep. When the Levite sees her, he asks her to get up. But she dies.

As if the story is not graphic enough, it concludes with the Levite cutting his wife’s corpse into twelve pieces and sending on piece to each tribe of Israel.

And pastors want to say God will never give you more than you can handle?

True Biblical Perspective

The God of the Bible does not measure how much suffering one can endure and choose carefully. The Bible shows that, in many areas, he does not care. The God of the Bible, especially the God of Job and Judges, is severely amoral, if not immoral. The God of the Prophets is the instigator of suffering.

The intention behind saying “God will never give you more than you can handle” is probably well-meaning. But, it is a lie. It promotes denial. It promotes a sense that suffering is not a problem when, in fact, it is a huge problem! Instead of lying to congregants and portraying God as some kind of protector imaginary friend, can we address the real problems in this world? Can we acknowledge that blowing immense suffering off as “in God’s hands” is causing more harm than good?

Conclusion

The notion that “God will never give you more than you can handle” is a well-intentioned but misguided interpretation of biblical principles. Instead of promising a life free from overwhelming challenges, the Bible acknowledges the omnipresence of suffering in our world. It acknowledges that God is not always present in our suffering. It is not easy to believe this. The church, throughout history, has thrived on pleasing its members and guilting its critics.

To please congregants, the church has created a God that is inconsistent with the God of the Bible. While he may be a God of grace, he is also a God of vengeance. He is a God who inflicts suffering on humanity. We need to acknowledge that the God of the Bible is not a God who looks out for us every second and hour. He is not always a monster, either.

***Trigger Warning: The content in this post may be triggering to some. This post addresses suicide; please exercise caution before continuing to read***

Suicide is a major problem facing humanity, and one that nobody enjoys discussing. For many of us, this topic strikes close to home. Some of us have loved ones who have acted on taking their life. We see news frequently about people ending it all. In the United States, suicide is a leading cause of death. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, suicide rates from 2000-2021 increased 36%; it is among the nine leading causes of death in the US.¹ There is a certain religious stigma of suicide that we urgently need to address.

In 2021, about 12.3 million American adults seriously considered suicide. I am one of them. I struggled with suicidality from a young age; twelve to be exact. I struggled with suicidal ideations for much of my childhood and into my teenage years. Nine years later, I ended up in the emergency room after trying to drink myself to death. As you may recall, I attempted again earlier this year.

Do Christianity and Suicide Intersect?

For as long as I have struggled with this disease, I felt that it was a character defect. To even think of ending my life, I was a sinner. I contemplated—and attempted—the “ultimate sin.” I never felt it safe to discuss my feeling. As I write this post, I struggle with mustering the strength to admit that I have been in that dark place for much of my life. And religious legalism is the vilest salt in the wound.

Fundamentalist stalwart John Macarthur is one example of how contemporary Christianity fuels the negative stigma of suicidality. MacArthur says, “We question the faith of those who take their life or even consider it seriously–it may well be that they have never been truly saved.”²

According to MacArthur, if you are a Christian and you struggle with mental illnesses, you are not truly Christian. One who considers suicide is actively “practicing sin in his heart.”³ And of course, he offers his advice: “Someone considering suicide should be challenged above all to examine himself to see whether he is in the faith.”⁴ The gall of such a pathetic man, the instigator of multiple controversies, to tell someone facing a crisis they need to go back to Bible school before seeking professional help.

MacArthur is not alone in his wicked theology. In fact, the issue goes back to the late ages of Classic antiquity. The condemning nature of the church’s attitude towards suicide began with the famed church father Saint Augustine of Hippo. Augustine presented the following view on Christianity and Suicide in his book City of God, composed in the early 4^th century CE:

“no man ought to inflict on himself voluntary death . . . for those who die by their own hand have no better life after death” (ch. 26) and “it is therefore wicked to kill oneself” (ch. 27)⁵

Thankfully, modern churches have been addressing the issue with a bit more empathy. However, there are still numerous churches teaching that suicide is an “unforgivable sin.” The church I attended with my family during middle and high school is one of them. To be only twelve years old and contemplating suicide is a terrifying thought alone; enter my youth pastor affirming that people who commit suicide go straight to the furnace. I was supposed to trust this man; instead, he made me feel that I would spend eternity in hell for even thinking such thoughts.

Ancient Solutions to Modern Problems

As the world progresses and more people raise awareness for suicide, the church has done a much better job of addressing the suicide epidemic than, say, 50 years ago. But there is still plenty of progress that needs to be made. In particular, the church should be addressing mental health. Instead, churches either deride mental health as a “progressive substitution for faith” or they simply do not discuss it at all. This should not be. It was not until my first time in a mental health facility that I truly felt a spiritual connection with God. It was not within the church; it was in a facility with fellow addicts seeking help for substance abuse.

According to multiple studies, attending weekly religious services is shown to be an effective protection against suicide.⁶ Why is this so? For one reason that I have not fully addressed in any posts yet: religious involvement provides unmatched community and fellowship. This was the hardest part of converting from Christianity to spiritualism for me; I lost the most (or only) beneficial aspect of religion, which is community. It is not the sermons that prevent suicide; it is not the cheesy worship songs that prevent suicide; it is belonging to a community of fellow, likeminded humans.

So, why do I have a problem with Christianity’s stance on suicide? Let’s examine a few reasons.

1) Christianity views suicide as a sin

Despite the church becoming more empathetic to suicide in the last century, the core “theology of suicide” is that it is a violation of God’s will. The Bible never explicitly states that suicide is a sin. However, Christian doctrine holds that murder is a violation of the sixth commandment (Ex. 20:13). Christian theology views suicide as “murder of the self.” It likewise believes that suicide is a violation of the sanctity of life. These are rational and logical points, but how is this going to prevent someone contemplating suicide from completing the act?

I think we need to change our perspective on this. Firstly, the Bible never says sinners go to hell. There is no such place in the Bible. Second, while the act of suicide may be considered a sin, we need to exercise caution in how we convey this message. People who experience suicidal ideations are not trying to violate Scripture out of a bitter heart; they are in a crisis. They do not want to suffer any more.

Those who contemplate suicide do not need a sermon. They do not need a systematic lesson on sin and God’s will. They need love. They need to know that their life matters. As one researcher keenly identifies, “Suicide is more than a public health crisis; it is often a cry for help.”⁷ Medical intervention is necessary, but the suicidal mind does not immediately think “I need a doctor.” Instead, it thinks, “I need someone who will listen to me, hear my cry, and support me.” This is where clergy and members of the congregation have a crucial role to play.

2) The stigma is largely created by the idea that suicide is a sin

Suicide is most certainly a taboo topic. It is nothing that anyone wants to discuss. Why? Because for centuries, suicide was viewed as an unforgivable sin. Unforgivable because “the person who did it could not have repented of doing it.”⁸ To this day, it is viewed as a sin. Because suicide violates the sanctity of life, it is a contaminant. As such, “The feeling of disgust is associated with a feeling that something pure has been degraded”⁹ And thus, stigma is bred.

3) Christianity does not talk about suicide

Tying in closely with the previous point, silence on the matter is both toxic and deafening. When suicide is not discussed, people fear judgment for even mentioning the word. One participant in the previously mentioned study explained, “Unless we talk about help-seeking regularly and about suicide more than occasionally, we develop or reinforce a culture of not seeking help.”¹⁰ The silence promotes a feeling that the topic should never be brought up. As a result, when one struggles with suicidal ideations, they feel that they cannot reach out for help.

4) The church is more focused on people leaving the service with good feelings

This is perhaps my biggest issue with the business aspect of church. It is all a show. Churches thrive on people leaving a service with a spiritual high. Pastors in the 21st century are little more than motivational speakers. As such, the church avoids discussing real issues for the sake of pleasing its congregants. This should not be the case. We do not live in a fairytale. Suffering is real and suffering is a problem; and sometimes, a sufferer pays the ultimate price to remove the pain. If we do not acknowledge the multitude of horrors in this life, then we promote a false sense of reality.

The result of not discussing the topic is ignorance.¹¹ Suicide is a topic that affects each of us, and we should not be ignorant of it. We never know when someone may come to us seeking help. Likewise, we never know when we may be caught in this snare. When we have heard nothing but silence on the matter, what are we to do?

Conclusion

Suicide is a topic very close to my heart. I have never felt safe to discuss the fact that I have been suicidal because it is a taboo subject in our society. Nobody wants to talk about it; but Christians have an obligation to. As Lewis B. Smedes noted over two decades ago, “[A]s Christians, we should worry less about whether Christians who have killed themselves go to heaven, and worry more about how we can help people like them find hope and joy in living.”¹²

A single post here will not allow a full treatment of this topic. I have much more to say than I have included in this post. I would like to conclude on a happy note: I found the help I needed. I did not find it within the four walls of a church. I found it in a mental health facility with others struggling with the same ideations. And I am alive! Not only so, but I am happy. Seven months ago, I would not believe that I would recover from such depravation of my mind. But I made it, and now, I have an opportunity to help others fighting similar battles. You can too.

Raise awareness. Talk about suicide. But do it in a loving manner. The love you show someone has the potential to save a life. Suicide is a leading cause of death; but it does not have to be. This season is a season of joy, peace, and happiness to most. But to some, it is heart wrenching and brutal. Show love to every person, because you never know what they may be going through. And let me reiterate: you have the potential to save a life. You cannot do it by sitting on the sidelines.

1. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), “Facts about Suicide” https://www.cdc.gov/suicide/facts/index.html

2. John MacArthur, “Can someone who commits suicide be saved,” Grace for You, https://www.gty.org/library/questions/QA143/can-one-who-commits-suicide-be-saved

3. Ibid.

4. Ibid.

5. John Potter, “Is Suicide the Unforgivable Sin? Understanding Suicide, Stigma, and Salvation through Two Christian Perspectives.” Religions 12, no. 11 (2021): https://doi.org/10.3390/rel12110987

6. Karen Mason, 2021. “Suicide Stigma in Christian Faith Communities: A Qualitative Study,” Religions 12: 540, 1. https://doaj.org/article/1cd5bb3966184d858d0d807084ef0982.

7. John Potter, “Is Suicide the Unforgivable Sin? Understanding Suicide, Stigma, and Salvation through Two Christian Perspectives.” Religions 12, no. 11 (2021): 987, 1.

8. Lewis B. Smedes, “Is Suicide Unforgivable?” Christianity Today, Jul 10, 2000. 61, https://go.openathens.net/redirector/liberty.edu?url=https://www.proquest.com/magazines/is-suicide-unforgivable/docview/211906085/se-2.

9. Mason 2

10. Ibid., 6.

11. Ibid., 11.

12. Lewis B. Smedes, “Is Suicide Unforgivable?” Christianity Today, Jul 10, 2000. 61

Over the past several days, as I try with desperation to understand the core of my psychological makeup, I have made a few observations. I have been working through a lot these last weeks as I have, once again, begun my journey of recovery from alcoholism. For those who have been in recovery, it goes without saying that the initial steps are hard to work through. It requires a strong degree of focus and self-evaluation to break the chains that have held us captive for so long. During my free time, I give myself a break by celebrating the Halloween season in my usual fashion: watching a few horror films.

A Reflection

For context, as I have mentioned elsewhere, I was raised in a conservative, Christian household. As such, horror movies were never allowed. Yet, at a young age, I became interested. It all started with the 1989 classic, Pet Sematary. Upon seeing the film, I began to dive deeper, I would watch horror films when my parents were away. I would sneak Stephen King books, hiding them under my mattress. Again, I did not know why horror fascinated me. And I didn’t really care.

Christianity and horror at extreme opposite ends of the spectrum. My mother, a devout Christian who was completely opposed to horror as most churchgoers are, did allow books by Frank Peretti. It may come as a surprise to some reading this, but Christian horror is a thing. It’s rare, but it is real. Peretti, for example, has long been regarded as the “Christian Stephen King.” And even now, I enjoy Peretti’s few, but exemplary works. Just avoid the movies based on his books.

For many people, faith and horror are polar opposites. For me, they supplement each other. Why? Because life is not always a happy fairytale. In fact, this is rarely the case. Life is not a Hallmark movie. Maybe it is for some, and I have certainly had my share of such moments. But that is exactly what such instances are—momentary. Every day and every second, travesty strikes somewhere in our imperfect world. We would be wrong to just ignore it, as if this fact is baseless. But are we to glorify the suffering so prevalent in this world? I think not. It is because of this suffering that we need to have hope. We need to have faith.

I have spent the past two weeks reflecting on my life. More particularly, the past year. My life is a horror story. It is because of past traumas that I felt the need to numb the pain—with alcohol. But eventually, as I have found, the euphoria of drunkenness wears off. And eventually, I must face the pain. Numbing this pain does not solve the problem. Ignoring the fact that suffering is real does no justice for myself or those close to me. In fact, it only makes matters worse.

Taking the first step

The first step in recovery is admission that there is a problem. It is recognizing that life is never perfect. And it is especially recognizing that there are no shortcuts around the problem. Students of the Bible should feel no shame when subjected to adversity. It is in such moments of recovery that I am reminded of the introduction to the epistle of James. Particularly, the following verses:

 “Regard it all as joy, my brothers, when you face various kinds of temptations;for you know that the testing of your trust produces perseverance.” James 1:2-3, CJB.

This is no easy task. When the cravings for alcohol come after me, it is my last thought to regard such cravings as joyous. For those who have been through similar struggles, it is frightening when cravings abound. Nobody wants to suffer. Nobody wants to feel that they are powerless over forces of evil that possess the capability to destroy us. I have never been chased by a psychopath wielding a chainsaw. But it is a sort of symbolism that I can relate to. Alcohol pursues me; and when I am sober minded, my instinct is to run. It is my instinct to fight with every fiber of my being. Because I am fighting for life over death.

Horror requires faith

Having faith does not remove the presence of evil in our lives. Similarly, possessing faith does not mean that we should remain in denial when being pursued by vicious suffering. But for some reason, the church wants its members to follow such outrageous thinking. That because they believe that if they find God, darkness is afraid of them. This is simply not the case. We do ourselves and our fellow humans a great injustice when we deny that the darkness is real. And the darkness is powerful. While my favorite verse confesses that the light always overcomes the darkness, it does not end there. We are not to remain idle when the darkness pervades. We must recognize that it is real. We must recognize that it is a problem.

This is exactly why I am a horror fan. Horror recognizes the reality of the evil and darkness that we face on a day-to-day basis. And in any horror story, the protagonists do not remain in denial. They take the first step—admitting that they have a problem. And in many instances, they are powerless to the problem. So should we admit that the macabre is real. Admission does not mean worshipping. It means recognizing that such forces are real, regardless of what we believe or do.

When I watch a horror film, I am reminded of the prominent suffering in our chaotic world. I am reminded that I must admit that such suffering is real, and it will stop at nothing in its pursuit of me. And, knowing who I am and my struggles better than anyone else, I know that I am powerless over such suffering. The strength that I find to overcome the darkness is nothing that I can produce on my own. It requires me to have faith in a power not only greater than myself, but greater than the powers that hunt me.

And I cannot fight back if I deny that such powers are real. I must admit that they are after me. While I struggle to find joy in such moments of testing, I know that in the end light will prevail. I have to trust that it will. I have to find the strength apart from myself.

Fast forward to today, September 2023. I have just read that a former president of the Southern Baptist Convention and pastor of a megachurch near Atlanta has been accused of sexual assault. Out of the countless accusations made of church leaders in recent years, this one really stood out to me. The criminal pastor’s name is Johnny Hunt.

The gift that keeps on giving

One Christmas before my mother passed, she gave me a book by Hunt titled Demolishing Strongholds. The book concerns the issue of lust, and pornography more particularly, and how Christian men can demolish the stronghold. It wasn’t until after Mom passed, while studying theology at Liberty University, that I actually read the book. Most of the book is easily forgettable. Hunt writes with a cocky perspective about how he has overcome lust and that his way is the only way.

Ironically, the book’s cover has a snippet of a review from Ravi Zacharias. The first review on the first page is from Zacharias. Before I exited the church, I respected Zacharias, another prominent evangelical in my state, Georgia. Shortly after Zacharias died, reports of sexual assault began to surface. And now, in 2023, Hunt has found himself in the same (much deserved) predicament. It turns out, he never demolished the stronghold of lust. Like many prideful religious men, he caved to temptation. And he lied by writing an entire book with the answers to his problem.

Now I must admit, I am a bit late to the party. As I conducted some brief research, I found that Hunt’s predatory behaviors were reported as early as January of this year. When I came across The Washington Post’s article on Hunt the other day, the first two words that came to mind were, “Of course.” My mother had given me his book as a loving and caring reminder that she did not want me going down the wrong path. I still possess the book, not because I agree with it, but because of Mom’s care and concern.

My blood boiled when I read the book. Within it lies the perspective of a man who has made a career out of feeding on those who earnestly seek help. A man who claims to be God’s instrument. A man who believes he has all the right answers and that he has lived a perfect life. The book contains more “I” statements than scriptural references. In the book, Hunt believes he has lived a God-fearing life and boldly shuns any attempts of the “Devil” to lead him astray. In reality, Hunt is a predator who has used the pulpit to fulfill his selfish and inherently evil desires.

“Demolishing” strongholds

The third chapter begins with a story of a woman who had attended his church, First Baptist Church of Woodstock. Late one evening, Hunt is at home (probably visiting adult sites, as most pastors do) when the phone rings. A woman, who he instantly accuses of drinking, calls and says she needs help. She is struggling. She wants Hunt to come to her home and talk to her. The cocky, condescending Hunt asks if her husband is home. She is not married. “Is that a problem?” she asks. According to the hypocritical Hunt, that is a “big problem.” In all his “years of ministry,” he has never met with a single woman. The delusional hero insists that he cannot help her because “I don’t ever visit women in their homes when they’re by themselves.”¹

Judging by the news of Hunt this year, that does not seem to be the case. It appears he would have jumped right on board. He proceeds to lay out three points arguing that he would never do such a vile thing. And of course, he concludes with his assertion that he loves his wife and would never wish to hurt her.² It is all that mean ol’ devil, trying to stand between a perfect man and his perfect relationships with his wife and Christ.

And yet, on July 25^th, 2010, while vacationing from his career as a Jesus Freak, he “kissed and fondled another pastor’s wife in what his attorneys would later call a ‘brief, consensual extramarital encounter.’”³ Maybe his wife forgave him, but he certainly hurt her. He hurt this particular pastor. And while falling into temptation is a very human thing to do, Hunt responds with a book proclaiming he would never— ever— let the “devil” stand in the way of his calling. Five years after publishing Demolishing Strongholds, an investigation into the SBC leaders’ sexual abuse scandals was published. And guess who is listed?

Chapter 7. Hunt, ashamed of the devastation Christian men face with lust (but, of course, not him!), decries the “devil’s” grip on Christian men. Briefly describing the story of a pastor who left his wife and family for his teenage secretary (a common theme in modern Christianity), the holier-than-thou Hunt questions the intelligence of the former pastor’s wife. But one paragraph stands out to me. Especially in light of recent events concerning Hunt’s affairs. He writes:

“I wish I could say this kind of story rarely happens. I wish I could say that all professing Christian men remain faithful to their wives and avoid sexual sin. But I know that’s not reality—and I grieve over it.”⁴

Oh, the humanity! This poor man. He has all the right answers. But none of these Christian men listen to him. They listen to the devil, instead of tuning in to his megachurch sermons. Poor Mr. Hunt. He wants all these godly men to be like him. To reject lust. To honor their wives. To reject meeting with a single woman because they’re married. And yet, staying faithful to one’s significant other is something the perfect Mr. Hunt cannot seem to do. Caving in to lust is one thing, but fondling and kissing another man’s wife… Well apparently, Mr. Hunt can do that because he is the devil’s number one enemy.

To be quite frank, it sickens me. This entire debacle. I could write a book twice the length of Hunt’s on just how sick and deprived this man is. I sincerely doubt this will be the only post on the issue… Maybe this is just part one. I am merely venting. This post serves to illuminate how fed up I am with the Christian church. We are expected to think of pastors as God’s instrument, and yet they cannot keep their pants up. We are expected to think pastorship is not a career, but a calling. And we have numerous examples that this simply is not the case. Jerry Falwell, Jr. Johnny Hunt. Jimmy Swaggart. Ravi Zacharias. All these men have one thing in common—they are making a career of God’s “calling” and using it to act as perverted hypocrites.

The career of a pastor

Friends, your pastor is not better than you. He is not wiser than you. He is not closer to God than you are. He simply does not have all the right answers, no matter how convincing or charming he is. He is flawed. He is a sinner. He is ensnared by “that mean ol’ devil.” And he should not be telling you how to live your life. Not all pastors are guilty. But not a single pastor is perfect. He is a motivational speaker with a tainted point of view.

Schemes like the one Hunt is involved with drove me out of the church. I have no plans to return. Their job should not be giving motivational speeches. Their job is not to tell you that you should live as they do because they do everything right. They are lying. They are flawed. We all are. Whether we are behind or in front of the pulpit, we are inherently evil. We need to stop giving creeps like Johnny Hunt and Ravi Zacharias the publicity they want. They do not have a perfect relationship with Christ. They are sick individuals, just like you and me. But in our culture, they are told that so long as they are CEOs of the church, they can do whatever they want. Because they are called, and we are not.

It’s time to put an end to this. Let’s stop giving cowards like Johnny Hunt the pulpit. Let’s reserve that for the book they claim to preach from.

1. Johnny Hunt, Demolishing Strongholds: Finding Victory over the Struggles that Hold You Back, Harvest House Publishers, Eugene, OR: 2017, 41-42

2. Ibid.

3. Bob Smietana, “Is A Pastor’s Sin a Private Matter? Johnny Hunt’s Lawsuit Makes that Claim,” in The Washington Post, September 19^th, 2023, https://churchleaders.com/news/458992-is-a-pastors-sin-a-private-matter-johnny-hunt-lawsuit-makes-that-claim-rns.html.

4. Hunt, Demolishing Strongholds, 99

Faith, hope, and…

Fill in the blank. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:13, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and ____. But the greatest of these is ____.” Is the missing word logic? No! Because when we are discussing matters of life and death or good and evil, logic simply has no place. I say this as a polemic towards both militant Christians and offensive opponents of belief. Why is it that there is so much debate on the issue? Is proving or disproving God really this important? That it would require one to take advantage of the hardest part of being human? How can we as a species be so divided on a topic that, one way or another, affects us all?

The problem of suffering is often categorized as a philosophical problem. And while yes, there is a time and place to debate the issue, I believe we should be more concerned about what we are doing to resolve the issue. It is not so much about explaining the reason for suffering as it is seeking to mitigate the prevalent suffering in our world. Of course, this is not an easy task. But nobody ever said it would be easy. Look around at the world. There is suffering everywhere. It’s on the news. It’s on the streets. It’s raging inside each and every one of us.

Love. That’s all it takes. No, love cannot cure a genetic disease. But it can minimize the ill effects of suffering prevalent in the one with the sickness. Explaining how God does or does not exist—what is that going to accomplish? The research I have reviewed for this post answers that question quite simply: nothing. Theodicies do not remove the sting of pain and suffering. Likewise, attacking people’s belief systems and boldly, yet selfishly asserting there is no god is producing nil results. I mentioned in a previous post that to have a purely logical answer to the problem of suffering, one must be a psychopath. I stand by my words.

A problem greater than the problem

Rationalization of suffering, in fact, worsens the effects of suffering. I can reflect on a time in my life when this certainly rang true. During one of my darkest times on this earth, when my mother was battling liver cancer, I struggled to make sense of her suffering and mine. Why did God do this to me? What have I done? I asked. The church gave me logical answers. Granted, I am endowed to note that the church I attended did so in a loving manner. But I was offered logic. In those moments, I did not need logic. The stress of trying to understand “why me?” and “what have I done to deserve this?” only added the stress I was already experiencing.

I came across a literature review of the sociologist Max Weber, who often discussed theodicy and suffering. In this review, the author explains, “The potential for the problem of suffering to shatter and shock people’s lives grows with the advance and force of rationalization.”_¹ The author continues that as intellectual beings, humans are driven by a desire to understand the meaning of suffering.² Believers of any faith, of course, become stressed and anxious to make sense of the apparent inconsistences of their belief systems and the world to which they belong. A world full of rampant suffering.

A biblical response

Now, I am not a sociologist. My purpose in this post is not to explain how societal beliefs and religious beliefs combat each other. My point in raising this issue is to address the word, the logos, we can live by. As I am a student of the Bible, I turn to this source for finding the solution. And the solution to this problem is, of course, love. That is the word I omitted in the aforementioned verse. But I would like to turn the attention to another verse, in which the author makes an important calling. Galatians 6:2 (CJB) states, “Bear one another’s burdens — in this way you will be fulfilling the Torah’s true meaning, which the Messiah upholds.”

My solution to the problem of suffering is found in this verse. Bear one another’s burdens. As cliché as it may sound, we are all in this together. Whether we identify as Christian, agnostic, atheist, or anything and everything else, we are all on this world together. We all share it. We share the good, we share the bad. We share the suffering, we share the joy. It is not our place to shove dogma down the throats of those who are already walking in darkness.

Galatians is written to “the church of Galatia,” and thus its audience is rather specific. It is the responsibility of Christians to bear the burdens of one another. I would take this a step further in my opinion. It is not the responsibility of Christian’s to only look out for each other, but to serve those in their community. Christian or not. In fact, the call to “bear one another’s burdens” is likely included to echo the sentiments of pagan philosophers Xenophon and Socrates.³ Believers of the Bible are called to serve each other, indeed, but they are also called to serve others.

The church and the temple

All too often the church views itself as some kind of utopian kingdom on the earth, superior to those who do not associate with it. In this way, it has become like the Temple in Jesus’ day. It has become a place for pious individuals to gather and hear about a book that was, in their view, written exclusively for them. Sinners are not allowed. Pastors have become the Pharisees. They assert that if you do not conform to the beliefs of the church, you cannot belong to it. I have seen this happen. It seems the church has accepted the idea that they are only to bear the burdens of its members.

Jesus led a revolution, but he did not do so by sitting in the temple and sharing the burdens of his fellow believers. Much to the Pharisees’ disgust, he communed with sinners. He shared the burdens of the religious outcasts. Why is it that the modern church refuses to follow his lead? Instead of prescribing philosophical defenses to the problem of suffering, the church should be leading the charge to eliminate suffering. And not only within itself, but within the greater community to which it belongs.

A call to change

Rationalizing suffering in the church is not alleviating the burden of human suffering. A pastor telling churchgoers why their perspective on the problem of suffering is superior to that of non-Christians is not ending the suffering. In fact, it is making the problem much harder to reconcile. While I believe that “there is a purpose for the pain” and “everything happens for a reason,” these beliefs accomplish nothing without action. Faith without works is dead. And works is not exclusively confined to missionary trips to other countries. Works out of faith are simply any actions performed for the purpose of showing love.

The love that Christ showed to sinners. No, pastors are not miracle workers and cannot cure blindness. But they can make every effort to love on the members of their church, as well as the members of their community. Instead of sending someone home for wearing dark leather or making one feel alienated for showing up to their facility high, why not make every effort to show them that they are loved? Instead of casually hanging out with church staff, why not show humility and develop relationships with those who do not attend the church?

The problem of suffering is a colossal problem. I feel that in the world, and especially in the church, the problem is overlooked. When it is touched upon, it becomes an opportunity to argue for a particular belief. This only makes the suffering worse, as I have experienced firsthand. We should be making every effort to bear each other’s burdens, regardless of where we come from or what we believe. In the end, three things remain, and rationalization is not one of them. Love is.

1. Wilkinson, Iain. “The Problem of Suffering as a Driving Force of Rationalization and Social Change.” The British Journal of Sociology 64, no. 1 (2013): 128.

2. Ibid., 130.

3. Weidmann, Frederick W. Galatians. First ed. Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012, 124.