Ch. 1, Pt. 4: The Illogical Re: Solution
Rodion Kutsaev
LIFE
—that which God oversees, but mostly allows to play out according to humanity’s collective choices—
deals us some bad cards.
LIFE doesn’t cooperate with our plans. LIFE is not fair. LIFE takes our expectations, chews them up, and spits them out.
Sh*t happens. Who can argue this point?
Jesus even said to his disciples: “You’ll have trouble in this world.” Then showed them how cruel the world could be (to a really good person, at that) when he was led to a humiliating, brutal slaughter.
LIFE hurts; it rips us apart. It has no mercy.
BUT…keep reading to the end of the story and the climax comes AFTER Jesus takes the worst beating, the hardest circumstances, the absolute limit on pain that one heart can handle…
AFTER darkness rolls in and his face drains of color…
AFTER the tomb is sealed, the world is shattered, and there is only emptiness…
AFTER survivors are left in shock, denial, anger, guilt, pain, despair…
AFTER death has won and nothing will ever be the same…
Somehow
(I don’t know how)
LIFE is born again.
In the words of Sarah Bessey, “Sovereignty is redemption, it’s not causation” (Out of Sorts).
Jesus’ resurrection reveals that the heart of God is to take the worst LIFE has to offer and create something new with it.
To take all the pain, injustice, evil, shame, the burdens of humanity…
To drag them to hell.
To bury them in death.
And to rise again,
like a phoenix from the ashes,
stronger? lighter? freer?
fundamentally different than before.
Death —somehow— leads to LIFE.
Even in the dead of winter, we can anticipate spring.
Even in the darkest, loneliest, most soul-crushing moments…
The story isn’t over.
There. Is. Always. Hope.
Without this hope of NEW LIFE, the other questions and answers lose their relevance for me. Because, without this hope, I don’t see a God I can love or trust. All I see is a wrathful God I must appease (or no God at all). All I see is Crap Religion — harmful rather than helpful. And if that’s all there is, I’m out.
But I can’t quite walk away.
Because when I take cues about God’s character from Jesus (the exact representation and special revelation of God)…
God is not Inflictor, but Advocate.
Not judging, but dignifying.
Not expecting “man” to reach “up” to him,
but coming “down,” becoming “man” himself.
GOD engulfed in,
embodied among,
empathizing WITH,
US.
In the midst of my loss, the truest support came from friends who would joke with me about my hearing as if it was not a thing to tip-toe around. Those who would dive headfirst into discomfort with me, undeterred by the potential awkwardness. Friends who would ask, “Which side is it again?” remembering to accommodate for my disability. Co-workers who would have my back if I didn’t hear a customer trying to get my attention, or tap me on the shoulder if I didn’t turn when they called my name.
Their presence mattered more than any prayers ever could. Their advocacy meant more than any answers. Being with me and for me, a safe place for my authentic self, was all I could have asked for. I was supported not by their logic, but by their love.
The Illogical Re: Solution
Jesus might not be the airtight solution to the Problem of Evil I’ve been looking for, but maybe a logical, abstract answer would do me no good.
Maybe a God who is embodied and tangible — Empathy Incarnate — provides the supernatural solidarity I never knew I needed.
A God who walks on human legs into pain, darkness, and death, and is not scared away. A God who CARES. Who holds space for the brokenhearted and defends the vulnerable. A God who rips his heart wide open for the burdened, rebukes those imposing burdens, and takes on the burdens himself.
With us, for us, as one of us.
Jesus is not the picture of God I had in my head: a predictable accountant of transactions or a wrathful judge I must appease. He is more mysterious and complex and open than that. Wide enough to contain millions of years and the entire universe. And somehow also smaller. Nearer. Eternally attached to a body like mine (scars included).
I can’t define, predict, or control this Suffering Savior. A God-Man of Sorrows who enters into pain and weeps can’t be contained in any of my boxes. And maybe THAT’S the point. Maybe that’s the very thing that makes him trustworthy.
Where “perfect answers,” platitudes, and prescriptions prove unhelpful, maybe PRESENCE is the Illogical Re: Solution.
And that’s the reconstruction, folks. Thoughts? Feelings? Oversimplified? Overreaching? Like it? Don’t like it?
I was conflicted about sharing it because I both like it AND don’t like it. On the one hand, I agree with myself (lol). But, on the other hand, I see the motivated reasoning at play and the legitimate issues that get glossed over.
Hopefully, by this point, you can tell that I DON’T love the language of deconstruction-reconstruction, or think it’s the healthiest framework.
I DO feel that it fits this primarily intellectual (and quickly exited) first crisis of mine, but in the chapters to follow, I’ll use alternative language like:
Disorientation: something that happens TO me, with eventual reorientation, re-centering, and equilibrium
The dark night/de-conversion: gut-wrenching, at the deepest level of identity/belonging, breaks life into before and after
Decolonization/dismantling: especially related to Biblical interpretation, bad theology, the history of the church in society, and systemic injustice
Unlearning/Rethinking/Updating beliefs: a continual process in the pursuit of truth
Under the umbrella of “faith crisis,” experiences can range widely (even for one person)! So, I’ll include a survey at the end of every chapter to differentiate one crisis from the next. For Crisis #1:
What stopped working? My ear (a personal event/experience) + assumptions related to prayer and God’s activity
How would you describe the crisis? Intellectual deconstruction
What was the timeframe? Summer of 2010, then moved to the periphery
What resources did you find helpful? Nothing at the time, but I would later benefit from reading all of Brene Brown’s work, The Sin of Certainty by Peter Enns, and Out of Sorts by Sarah Bessey.
How did you resolve the dissonance? Reconstruction through intellectual theologizing (especially Jesus’ incarnation and resurrection)
Over to you. Where did you relate? What would you like to know more about? Do these questions help you make sense of your own crises? Do you think others could benefit from hearing YOUR story?
Stay tuned for Chapter Two!
