The Humility of God

For the past few weeks, I've been plodding my way through one of C.S. Lewis' classic works: The Problem of Pain. Though I wouldn't try to toss out Lewis' "solutions" to those who are going through some great pain in their lives (not an approach Lewis advocates himself, by the way), the book is interesting (as most of Lewis' writing tends to be). Of particular intrigue to me was Lewis' discussion of what he calls "the humility of God."

A little background: Lewis' discussion on this point is a part of a broader argument in which he is attempting to demonstrate that pain can be (though is not necessarily) purposeful. In other words, he's arguing that God can use pain for good--even our good. One of the ways that God can use pain for our good is by grabbing our attention with it. Pain, says Lewis, is God's "megaphone."*

One of the things God says through the megaphone of pain is that our sense of contentment and satisfaction, our help and our hope, can only come from him. Of course, most of us know this already. At least in theory. But we also know that when life is going well--when the bank account is swelling and our relationships are flourishing and we are (relatively) worry free--it is difficult to turn our thoughts to Him.** Instead of finding satisfaction in the knowledge that we belong, body and soul, in life and in death, to our faithful savior Jesus Christ, we begin to find satisfaction in the new car, or in the our healthy bodies, or in our perfect children. Somehow, our souls find rest (or at least relative rest) even though they are not resting in Him. And that's when God decides to take out his megaphone.*** He allows his children to suffer, so that through their suffering, they might receive a reminder of their need for Him.

Taken the wrong way, I suppose this line of argument could make God sound like a cruel parent--Or at least a narcissistic one who has unhealthy needs for attention. But understand that one of Lewis' fundamental presuppositions is that human beings were created to be in a relationship with God and therefore they can only be happy within a relationship with God. In other words, this isn't only about the Father being happy to have his children back (assuming they call to him in their pain). This is also about his children finding happiness because they have their Father back. Put yet another way, in his grace, God uses pain to awaken in his children a desire for the one thing that can truly make them happy--Him.

So, where does the "humility of God" come in? Well, think about this: It is not particularly flattering for God to have us come to Him only when we need something from Him, or as a last resort, or because He seems less unpleasant than the other alternatives. As Lewis states, "it is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up 'our own' when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms."

But here's the thing: God is not proud. God is humble. He is willing to take us to himself even when our motives are less-than pure, even when we come to Him as something of a last resort. God so wants us to be happy (read: "God so wants us to be in fellowship with him"), God is so humble, and God loves us so much, that he is willing to do whatever it takes to get us into a relationship with Him. He's even willing to let us go through a little pain. And I, for one, think that is quite remarkable.****

*"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." (p. 83)
**I hope a few of you will make the connection to the sermon I preached a few weeks ago on Deut. 8.
***Please, please, please don't hear this as an explanation for all the pain and suffering we may do. This is one possible purpose, and may not even be a primary purpose.
****I hope you do too. But if this just seems like a bunch of mad rambling, you may want to check out chapter 6 of Lewis' book. He makes the argument much more convincingly than I.