| We need the Psalmists' God, a God who overcomes; no more death in design. |
Transcendentalism vs. The Rock of the Psalmist
Yet, what if Dawkins’ pessimistic darkness is not our cup of tea? What if we are instead drawn to Emersonian-like optimism and see only perfection in Nature: “I am not impressed by solitary marks of designing wisdom: I am thrilled with delight by the choral harmony of the whole! Design! It is all design. It is all beauty.”? We may be drawn to the idea that "god" is indistinct from ourselves and Nature. This is coupled with a romantic notion that everything in Nature is as it should be.
Tragedy, then, is merely our experience. We can call it "good" if we want or "bad," these are simply names we give an experience, but no higher authority can confirm or challenge us in our judgments, for they are based on our individuality. If the Divine is impersonal and nebulous, it would certainly remain above indictment for the presence of evil. No one is present of whom we may ask our questions; we may find ourselves helpless before a nameless silence, like the the fatherless Ishmael at the end of Moby Dick, whose ship has been destroyed and was found alone in the middle of a large ocean. Frost's sonnet in such a view would be futile, his dark lament mere sentiment. This view teaches us to forget or even embrace the fate of the moth; there is no negativity in death; everything simply "is." We have nowhere to go with our "negative" experiences. We may not be certain what to do with our pain.
On the flip side, we may view ourselves the source and sole engineer of our own destiny, and believe that there are no heights that we cannot reach when we put our minds to it. We may feel free and light as a result, not burdened by expectations, unencumbered by morality, the essence of Emersonian “Self-Reliance.” "Trust chiefly in self," was central to Emerson's philosophy. Such a view places us opposite the position of the Psalmists in the Bible, who were moved by God's Spirit in God's law, so eloquently praised for its virtue and beauty in the longest Psalm-119. The description of the Hebrew God's ways which are higher than humankind's, are but a trifle of history, unsustainable amidst morphing and ever changing intuitions.
Such optimism toward every aspect of Nature with its emphasis on self as the highest form of knowledge, makes one fatherless. It places one opposite to the Psalmists' steadfast God who desires His creatures to bring cries of lament in the face of senseless evil. The Psalmists' God is certain enough to identify evil, big enough and steadfast enough to hold our fears, doubts, deep depression and rage; powerful enough to stand with us in the tidal wave of evil and to overcome it. Without the Psalmists' view of God, we will not be able to point to the Divine to help us discover what is good or evil, to help us recognize or even protest evil. Worse yet, there is no one who is able to overcome it.
If the Divine is a force that absorbs both light and darkness into itself, then it’s anyone’s guess how the universe or our small lives will or even should pan out, or what, if any, purpose there is in life or death. (Now I feel like I have just reiterated Frost's lament in his sonnet.) "What had that flower to do with being white, The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?" A beautiful, sensuous flower led a moth to its death; evil can be good, good can be evil-distinctions break down. Like atheism, the impersonal Divine or the unnamed Transcendent, fits nicely with evolution, which also recognizes a breakdown in moral distinctions; what is known is that the strong will win. One looks to the physically and genetically fit, the other looks to the spiritually fit. There is not only physical evolution, but evolution of the soul; what we once thought was evil has now become illusory or a matter of individual experience- "if I mean to do good, then I have done good.” If I am motivated by love, my actions are always right. It is up to me if I decide to shed the inhibitions of the past. No one can challenge us by any authority.
Neither can anyone contain us when we falter or find ourselves in a deep pit and our spirits give way. Or when we are either the authors of evil as David was in Psalm 51, when he cried out to God, "Create in me a clean heart, Oh God," or the recipients of evil: "Deliver me, O God."
Tragedy, then, is merely our experience. We can call it "good" if we want or "bad," these are simply names we give an experience, but no higher authority can confirm or challenge us in our judgments, for they are based on our individuality. If the Divine is impersonal and nebulous, it would certainly remain above indictment for the presence of evil. No one is present of whom we may ask our questions; we may find ourselves helpless before a nameless silence, like the the fatherless Ishmael at the end of Moby Dick, whose ship has been destroyed and was found alone in the middle of a large ocean. Frost's sonnet in such a view would be futile, his dark lament mere sentiment. This view teaches us to forget or even embrace the fate of the moth; there is no negativity in death; everything simply "is." We have nowhere to go with our "negative" experiences. We may not be certain what to do with our pain.
On the flip side, we may view ourselves the source and sole engineer of our own destiny, and believe that there are no heights that we cannot reach when we put our minds to it. We may feel free and light as a result, not burdened by expectations, unencumbered by morality, the essence of Emersonian “Self-Reliance.” "Trust chiefly in self," was central to Emerson's philosophy. Such a view places us opposite the position of the Psalmists in the Bible, who were moved by God's Spirit in God's law, so eloquently praised for its virtue and beauty in the longest Psalm-119. The description of the Hebrew God's ways which are higher than humankind's, are but a trifle of history, unsustainable amidst morphing and ever changing intuitions.
Such optimism toward every aspect of Nature with its emphasis on self as the highest form of knowledge, makes one fatherless. It places one opposite to the Psalmists' steadfast God who desires His creatures to bring cries of lament in the face of senseless evil. The Psalmists' God is certain enough to identify evil, big enough and steadfast enough to hold our fears, doubts, deep depression and rage; powerful enough to stand with us in the tidal wave of evil and to overcome it. Without the Psalmists' view of God, we will not be able to point to the Divine to help us discover what is good or evil, to help us recognize or even protest evil. Worse yet, there is no one who is able to overcome it.
If the Divine is a force that absorbs both light and darkness into itself, then it’s anyone’s guess how the universe or our small lives will or even should pan out, or what, if any, purpose there is in life or death. (Now I feel like I have just reiterated Frost's lament in his sonnet.) "What had that flower to do with being white, The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?" A beautiful, sensuous flower led a moth to its death; evil can be good, good can be evil-distinctions break down. Like atheism, the impersonal Divine or the unnamed Transcendent, fits nicely with evolution, which also recognizes a breakdown in moral distinctions; what is known is that the strong will win. One looks to the physically and genetically fit, the other looks to the spiritually fit. There is not only physical evolution, but evolution of the soul; what we once thought was evil has now become illusory or a matter of individual experience- "if I mean to do good, then I have done good.” If I am motivated by love, my actions are always right. It is up to me if I decide to shed the inhibitions of the past. No one can challenge us by any authority.
Neither can anyone contain us when we falter or find ourselves in a deep pit and our spirits give way. Or when we are either the authors of evil as David was in Psalm 51, when he cried out to God, "Create in me a clean heart, Oh God," or the recipients of evil: "Deliver me, O God."
The Lame & the Blessed/The Moth Released
Another possibility remains; that God, who is wholly other, is mysteriously intimate with His designed world. What if God calls creatures to the love and knowledge of Himself, who are in the world of sin that they willed, having traded love for God for hatred of Him? What if, though man could never fully understand all the reasons for the suffering they would endure, God purposed to remain faithful and true to those who love Him, actively making provisions for the world's restoration? This is the story that the Bible unfolds. The recognition of evil fits with the Bible's proclamation that there is a personal God in whom there is no darkness, whose first and last intention is a good design. Who makes claims on us because in His wisdom He wants to guide us into heavenly love. The God who visits us, Jacob's God, values the weak, the unfaithful, the addict, the narcissistic, the challenged, the inconvenient, the frustrating, the sin-prone, the lost, the depressed, the ship-wrecked. He values all who are living, and He quickly comes to those who call on His name. And promises that He will complete His action of creation by restoring it to a world without evil and evil’s effects, not letting evil have the final word. Not letting death continue to grip the moth. And how has the God who is named chiefly come to us? By His Son the Christ as he has been revealed by His Word, whose life and death overcame the power of evil, cancelled our sin, and released our souls from death.
We can be “appalled” by evil if we are made in the image of a God who recognizes and hates evil. It is in this sonnet that Frost's flirtation with skepticism fails: Frost’s recognition of good and evil confirms the design of a benevolent designer in that he is appalled by the entrance of evil into a fair, well-orchestrated world. One day perfect optimism will flourish for sin and death will be finally put away. Father, Son and Spirit will be known and exalted by all; no more death in design, only fluttering wings.
We can be “appalled” by evil if we are made in the image of a God who recognizes and hates evil. It is in this sonnet that Frost's flirtation with skepticism fails: Frost’s recognition of good and evil confirms the design of a benevolent designer in that he is appalled by the entrance of evil into a fair, well-orchestrated world. One day perfect optimism will flourish for sin and death will be finally put away. Father, Son and Spirit will be known and exalted by all; no more death in design, only fluttering wings.
