Willpower: Perfect, Free and Permissive

It’s the nature of psychotherapy that we enter into people’s suffering with them, and there we face together the big, awful questions of life. For believers who struggle (and who doesn’t?) and those nonbelievers whose skepticism and doubt are underscored by the terrible events of life, I offer, not for the first time, a clumsy explanation about the role of will. I take no credit for the originality of these ideas; a wise priest, C.S. Lewis and others get all the credit. But in case you are not in the market to take up a theological book, or even Lewis’s wonderfully clear and concise “Mere Christianity,” I offer my awkward summary.

Many religious people pour salt in their own suffering by imagining that, since everything that happens is due to God’s Will, then they have to wrestle with a God who wanted, for example, their loved one to be killed by a drunk driver. That grief is a terrible burden to bear, made worse if you believe that the God whom you love and serve orchestrated it with terrible precision. Adding to this is the unhelpful, albeit well-intended, “comfort” offered by those who say it’s all God’s Will.

This problem of what a good God is up to, which I dare to wade into, is the difference between what we believers might describe, (and again, I borrow the terms from wise people) as God’s Perfect Will versus God’s Permissive Will. And between them stand, like obstinate toddlers, all of humanity with its free will, myself included.

The Perfect plan, if I may, would be all of us living in harmony. Each would be using their gifts to bring service and joy to others; kindness and generosity would rule the day. The earth itself would continue to evolve to perfection – what we look forward to with the final end of disease and suffering.

And … we have free will. That messes things up. In the Perfect Will of God, that drunk driver would not gotten drunk. They would have not gotten behind the wheel, they would not have been deluded into believing they were “fine.” But free will allows that stupid, selfish, and evil series of choices. It also allowed the choices by other people: to not intervene, to not be ready to be the fun killer who takes away the keys and calls a rideshare or deliver the drunk home oneself. There are usually not-so-innocent bystanders in such situations. Not everyone drives drunk. Some people text and drive. Some people gossip. Some people attack other people on (anti)social media. Some people have numbed themselves to the loneliness of someone right there, in their own home. Most of us probably do some sort of selfish act every day, even if we are oblivious to its impact on other people. I am certain I do, and it’s probably far worse and more often than I imagine.

So here we all are, stepping on one another’s toes at best and causing profound suffering at worst, making a tremendous disaster of a world that is supposed to be evolving to perfection. And that mess is what might be called God’s Permissive Will. It was not God’s Perfect plan, but since free will was given, this is what we get.

I will now go out on a more fragile limb and offer a thought: that when Scripture tells us that God works all things together for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28) that perhaps what that means is that our own free will comes into play here. When tragedy strikes, will I draw closer to God (good for me) or pull away (bad for me)? Will I go through the struggle of discerning what would God want me to do in this new and terrible circumstance, which I did not want, or will I just rebel or seek comfort in self-destructive numbing?  God, I believe, does not allow someone die tragically in order to “teach you (or me) a lesson.” But I believe that, when tragedy arises, then the “good” to be worked out will be to try to discern how to be a good person despite the tragedy, which will always lead us closer to God.

I hope this is helpful to someone who is suffering.

When God Speaks

“It just seems awful convenient that whenever my dad prays, it turns out God tells him to do whatever he wanted to do in the first place.”  The teenager was slouched, watching me sidelong through floppy bangs, waiting to see how I, the Christian counselor, would respond to his cynical appraisal of his father’s approach to prayer.  I nodded slowly and asked for examples…examples that seemed, I thought to myself, to at least support the child’s misgivings about prayer in particular, and religion in general.

My experience is that, more often than not, what I experience as God suggesting a course of action is precisely what I do not want to do.  Whether this is because I am by nature and habit a worse person than this boy’s father or I am more honest about not liking to do some things, I cannot know.

If you are not a person of religious faith, no doubt this all sounds pretty crazy.  Perhaps you suspect that Christians are hallucinating, or pretending to do so, in order to fit in with the group.  Who know; perhaps that happens.  What a non-believer may not know is that when Christians talk about discerning a message from God, we are likely talking about one or more of these experiences:

  1. The thought that pops up, unexpected and persistent.  For example, I had the thought pop up to call someone with whom I hadn’t spoken in a year or two. The thought nagged at me. “I really should call ‘Beth.’”  It turned out that ‘Beth’ had just had a death in the family, and other trials, and needed some friendly encouragement.  A non-believer thinks of that as a coincidence; a believer attributes it to God’s Spirit at work in and among us.
  2. The events of our lives: the series of experiences that are, perhaps, unexpected and beckon us to pay attention to a pattern. Perhaps we have been ignoring that pattern; perhaps the busy-ness of our lives has fogged our attention. This might also include
  3. The people around us; their words and actions may plant seeds. They might speak truth to us, including truth we don’t like, such as confronting us on a bad habit or poor choices.
  4. God’s Word: Scripture speaks across the centuries. For example, consider how quick many biblical persons were to rebel and give up when the going got tough – despite all the good they had experienced. How different are we, and what could we draw out of these examples to be more persistent in times of trouble?
  5. Through beauty:  nature, art and music, literature.

There are others, of course, but these are perhaps the most common. I have known two people who claimed to have heard a booming voice speak to them, but mostly, when people talk about messages from God, it comprises one or more of the above categories. They do their daily scripture reading, and then encounter a similar message in a song, or a news story. A friend shares an experience that echoes that theme, and a thought pops in, unbidden and somewhat surprising, “Perhaps I should…” or, “I really need to…”

If you are a non-believer, you might attribute all this to coincidence, or some vague power in the universe. A matter of quantum physics, you might shrug, imagining a little particle in “Beth’s” brain synchronizing across the miles with its partner in mine. It seems that the most elemental grasp of what is suggested by quantum physics should quell any urge towards atheism.

Anyhow…that’s a mini-explanation of what believers often mean when we talk about hearing from God. I hope that clears up any silliness about mass psychosis.  As my young client noted, it might be discernment, and it might be a convenient little personal excuse; that is inevitably our human nature.  We see what we want to see, except when we unexpectedly encounter a mirror. But that is a story for another day.

A Fool in the Slow Lane

One of the common criticisms I hear from people who are skeptical about religion is that so many religious people say one thing and do another. To which I respond, well, yeah. You’re correct, and don’t we know it. It’s right there in our Scriptures – the Scriptures overflow with it, including one of our most famous saints bemoaning to an entire city of Christians that he can’t quite get himself in line (St. Paul, in Romans Ch. 7).  It turns out that goodness is a work in progress. So, the question isn’t whether people are imperfect, it’s whether or not they seem to be making a good effort at being better than their nature might call them to be.  

In a sense, we’re like automobiles.  Except we’re not very good automobiles; most of us need to be in the shop, so to speak, day after day. Something is always going wrong. A tweak there, an adjustment there.  Driving all day and keeping an eye on the dashboard: what trouble light will pop up next?  Yep, there’s something; what can it mean? We pull over, often, to check things and scratch our heads in bewilderment; now what?  Then there’s a smooth stretch without any bumps and we unconsciously speed up, no longer paying close enough attention, until something dings or squeaks or clanks. Then it’s time to spend time in the shop, so to speak, and our Mechanic sets things right and, kindly and perhaps with a bit of a twinkle, reminds us that regular maintenance could keep this sort of thing from happening.  We bow our heads, determined to do better.

Off we go – we’re supposed to be paying attention to the road signs, the weather, the conditions in general. We have directions and we’re supposed to check them frequently.  If things go okay for just a bit, we breathe a prayer of thanksgiving.  So here we are, we “religious” people; we drive along through life, trying to keep it together and stay on track – and to the person zipping past us in the fast lane, who feels sure of where they’re going, we look like bumbling idiots.  

And, if we’re doing this right, we know that we are, at best, God’s fools, full of good intentions, accidental mistakes and self-absorbed carelessness, just trying to stay on the right road.