War and Our Image of God

WAR: AND OUR IMAGE OF GOD

In his simple autobiography, called "A Fortunate Life”, Albert Facey, who took part in the raid upon Gallipoli on 25 April 1915, writes:

“My experience in the First World War and now the Second World War changed my outlook on things. It is hard to believe that there is a God. I feel that the Bible is a book that was written by man, not for the good of man but for the purpose of preying on a person’s conscience and to confuse him. Anyone who has taken part in a fierce bayonet charge (and I have) and who has managed to retain his proper sense, must doubt the truth of the Bible and the powers of God, if one exists. And considering the many hundreds of different religions that there are in the world of ours, and the fact that many religions have caused terrible wars and hatred throughout the world...it is difficult to remain a believer. No, sir” he concludes, “there is no God, it is only a myth”.

Albert Facey was not alone in having his faith in God shattered by his experience of the First World War.

By the time the Great War ended in 1918, few would have shared the earlier optimism of the then Archbishop of Canterbury, who in 1914 could write that, "War between great nations of kindred races and sympathies is, or ought to be, unthinkable in the twentieth century of the Gospel of the Prince of Peace”.

At first, some people tried to interpret the war in terms of God’s punishment for sin. In particular, the Vicar of All Saints Church, Margaret Street, London, announced that the "Angel of death had appeared, because hard godless women were springing up in multitudes around us, increasing numbers of them refusing to bear our children". But soon, the sufferings of the war seemed far beyond anything a just God could have intended as a punishment for the use of contraceptives by the women of London.

Others suggested that God had gone into hiding. Oswin Creighton, the clerical son of the Bishop of London wrote home saying: "I sometimes feel inclined to wonder why God hides himself so inscrutably from our experiences. Or is it that the church has taught us for so long to look for him in the wrong places?” He was to be killed in action some nine months later.

As the war progressed, more and more people found themselves questioning their belief in God. As the contemporary church historian, David Edwards, has observed: “The Great War made it harder for millions to believe that the God worshipped in church truly was the sovereign Lord and Judge, punishing the wicked and protecting the faithful and righteous”.

Church attendance declined as people returned home, confused and bewildered. If God controls history and has unlimited power, why does he not protect the just from suffering? So Albert Facey was not alone when he concluded: "No sir, there is no God, it is only a myth".

Was God then, merely a figment of human imagination, or was Facey’s image of God, a figment of his imagination? Just because God does not come up to our personal expectations, it does not necessarily follow that he does not exist.

Perhaps we should examine afresh our image of God, not only in the light of our personal experience, but also in the light of the experience of the Biblical writers, before we abandon our belief in God.

May I suggest we start with our experience of free will? No matter how powerful the circumstances and pressures may be that influence and determine our lives, we know that we always have the freedom to do otherwise.

The alternative to a God who gives us the freedom to choose is a God who intervenes and overrules our free will. In other words, whenever we are faced with any potential suffering – be it danger, pain or disappointment - God enters into the situation and overrules the natural course of events. This is what some would mean by describing him as "Almighty”.

But belief in such a God would deny us our freedom and make us into mechanical robots or puppets performing on a divine string. Now this is not my experience of life and I doubt if it is your experience of life.

In short, you cannot have your cake and eat it. Either you have a God who permits us freedom with no risk involved, or you have God who denies us our freedom with the risks that involves.

Now, that is not to say that God is not capable of intervening in the course of history, but rather, in order that we shall grow in maturity, he chooses to limit his power. In so doing, God allows himself to become vulnerable. He willingly opens up himself to the possibility of being hurt, disappointed – yes, even annoyed - when we abuse his gift of free will.

Above all, he allows himself to be abandoned and rejected by those unable to believe in such a God, such as Albert Facey.

This is the price of unconditional love, as revealed in his Son, Jesus Christ, who is “image of the invisible God”. Jesus shows us a God who chooses not to force himself upon us. Rather he chooses to enter into the life of this planet as a helpless infant in a manger at Bethlehem. And he chooses to leave this planet as a helpless victim nailed to a cross at Calvary . €

Perhaps I can try to illustrate what I mean from the experience of family life.

It is the responsibility of parents to permit their teenage children the freedom to explore the parameters of choice and decision making, so that they may be enabled to grow into mature people. A parent who is always interfering in the lives of their teenage sons and daughters, and thereby denying them their freedom, will at best retard their development, and at worst prevent their growth into adulthood.

In order to give teenage children such freedom, it is necessary that parents be prepared to allow themselves to become vulnerable. In so doing, they allow themselves to be open to hurt, disappointed and sometimes even rejected as their youngsters experiment with their new found freedom. Such is the price of true love. For to love unconditionally is to allow oneself to become vulnerable.

Now that is not to say that God wants us to make war. Nor is it to say he condones war. Rather he permits war, because that is the price of giving us freedom. That is the cost of love.

Belief in such a God has always baffled people who have attempted throughout history to fashion God to suit their own particular needs of the time, rather than allow God to be God. And when he does not come up to their expectations of the moment, they reject him.

And this is what Albert Facey did.

Never did God allow himself to be more vulnerable than during the First World War. The pain that was suffered by those involved in the fighting, and by those who mourned their dead, was also suffered in the heart of God.

It is not "No sir, there no God, it is only a myth". But rather, “No sir, there is a God, but your image of God is a myth".