On atheistic strength and endurance versus God...

Matt Chandler jokes that there are two tenets to atheism: "There is no God and I hate Him." And last week, or maybe the week before, he discussed it a little in a sermon and pointed out that when bad stuff happens, it's God's fault and when good stuff happens, we own it. If people suffer, then obviously, our God is a cruel God. But that we have life at all? That's science. That's procreation. That's because we do pilates and eat multi-grain bread.

I bring it up today because it was evident with the whole tsunami warning thing. Yesterday, people were so terrified at the threat that prayer requests became trending topics on Twitter. When does that happen? When does something serious about God become a trending topic? When we're helpless and don't know what to do. But then the waves were much smaller than expected and there was no trending topic to reflect what God had done, if it was indeed Him who answered the prayers. There was no "#ThankGod" hashtag trending. No "GodisGood". And definitely no "God answers prayers".

We overreacted, that's all.

Science will prove later why the giant earthquake didn't create the tsunami we all expected.

But when something like this happens in this new world we live in where everything that happens is suddenly received by a massive collective and redistributed by that same collective, it gives us a clearer picture of our attitude towards God. Had that tsunami devastated us, who would we blame?

And when a two year old is dying of cancer and her parents are confident that God will save her simply because of all of the people who have been drawn closer to Him in her suffering, the atheist I used to sometimes be would ask, "What kind of god allows a little girl to suffer her entire life just so other people would ask about him? What kind of god makes a martyr of a sweet, innocent baby? What kind of god strips away her life and crams her body with tumors just to make himself look good?"

If there is no sacred-secular divide and everything is meant to glorify God, then that doesn't just mean the suffering. It means God gave you life. God gave you love. God gave you everything in this short little life that makes you happy. It means all of it, the joy, the pain, the good times and bad, is a gift and to acknowledge that is to glorify God with that gift. (Kind of like how you used the glitter you got from your parents on your sixth birthday to make them the most gaudy card ever to express your excitement about it.)

People think a good God would just give us happiness. But what if experience is more important than happiness? Without a doubt, the more aware we are of the nature of this world, the more we experience. Isn't that what life is about?

I realized this past week that I might have totally misunderstood one of the tenets of Buddhism. Somebody I know claims to be Buddhist (it's really more of a pick-and-choose Buddhism than a profound one..) said to me several times, "Happiness is a life without suffering," and to be honest, that did not appeal to me at all. If that's what happiness was, I didn't want it. While suffering is terrible, the rate of growth we experience from it can't be matched by anything else that might replace it. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? So it made no sense to me that an entire faith would be based on an idea that is so counterproductive, and not only that, but also is absolutely impossible in the world we live in. We can't go a day without feeling some sort of suffering. And to pretend we are at that place where we're happy and there is no suffering at all is to have our head jammed so far in the sand that we don't know which way is up anymore.

But this week, I read it differently. "Happiness is the end of suffering." It sounds almost the same, but it hit me in a different way. It didn't say, "Happiness is a lack of suffering." What if it means that happiness is simply the perception of our suffering?

In Christianity, if suffering brings us closer to God, closer to a more complete trust in God, then it becomes a good thing in the end- depending on how much you trust God.

John 12:25 says this:
Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

If God is God, and God is our Creator, and suffering draws us closer to Him, then we should want nothing more. If God is not God, then we should love this life and cling to it and to its events, circumstances and relationships to provide us with fulfillment, happiness and love. If God is not God, then there is no reason at all to endure suffering. I mean, there is rapid growth, but why is rapid growth something we should desire if our goal is to be happy and without suffering? Growth and awareness lead to more suffering which leads to more growth and more awareness. Seems to me, we should be avoiding those at all costs if this life was merely about this life.

When I was younger and a mess, I remember telling somebody that I'd be more proud of getting over something like depression or suicidal tendencies on my own rather than leaning on some god to get me through it. I'd rather build my strength to overcome it at the risk of failure than succeed despite being weak enough to need a god to rely on. I didn't want a crutch. I wanted to conquer on my own merit.

But for what?

To be stronger going into the next struggle for survival? And then the next? And so on and so on until my finite life ended and I was coffin-bound? What for? Why endure everything for nothing? Because life is a gift? What kind of gift is it if it doesn't come from somebody? Life is precious? Why, if it's meaningless?

One of the things I always wondered, long before I became a Christian was, "Why me?" and not "Why did these things happen to me?" but "Of all the people in this world, why was I given the strength to survive these things? Why me?" Things would happen, bad things, one after the other after the other and sometimes, I would feel utterly overwhelmed by how terrible life was. Life was bad at some points. I mean, really bad with no hope of getting better. But I didn't die. I didn't give up living even if I gave up on life. My heart kept beating. I kept going. And then there were the physical injuries and illnesses and I nearly died more times than a lot of people I know. But my heart kept beating. I kept going. And all the while, I was ready to die. I really was. Death never scared me and still doesn't. Deep down, I have always felt temporary and I've always been ok with that. But of all the people, why me? So many people cling to this life, cling to their loved ones' lives and I don't, and for some reason, I've been allowed to keep mine.

Why me?
Why hasn't my time come yet?
Why is my heart still beating?
Why am I still breathing?
Why, after all I've been through, am I able to love?
Is it really because all those years, I stood up on my own and got stronger each time?
Or is it because God is merciful and even when I hated Him without even knowing Him, He showed compassion and became my heartbeat?

Why me? They say if God stops thinking about you, or I guess being aware of you, then you cease to exist. So here I am, invisible girl living a meaningless, invisible life, wondering why the hell I haven't died yet, when the reason is exactly the opposite of everything I know- I'm meaningful, important and visible to the only "person" that matters, even if I didn't believe in Him at all. The fact that I haven't ceased to exist, the fact that my heart kept beating when I didn't want it to, is hindsight proof to me that I am loved. That's not to say people who die are unloved, but just that the way things happened for me, again in hindsight, seems a little more hands-on.

I look back at those things that happened, and if I got through them because I'm strong and I got stronger each time, then theoretically, I could do anything now. I could endure anything. I'd be invincible. But I look back at some of the things, and if they happened again tomorrow, I'm not sure I could handle it. I'm not sure I have the strength to get through those same things now that I endured back then. I'm not sure I'm as strong as my self back then would take credit for.

But it doesn't matter anymore anyway.

There is a God and I love Him. And how weak that makes me is absolutely irrelevant.