We were eating lunch together. An atheist and a christian. Respectful friends.
She once identified as a christian and she was telling me about her disdain for what her christian friends believe. “When I ask them why they believe that stuff,” she said, “they can’t tell me. If I ask them questions, they say they haven’t thought about that.”
“There’s so much shit happening,” she said, outlining a few events in people’s lives that she knows about. Sickness, accident, mental illness. “So why doesn’t God stop it? He’s supposed to be sovereign so that means he’s causing it all!”
“What do you think? How do you explain all that?” she asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think God’s responsible for all that,” I said. “I think God gave us the world, and evolution and genetics and the human race are mostly responsible for what happens.”
“You’re saying we have free choice?”
“Yes,” I replied, “that’s God’s great gift to us, to give us the dignity and responsibility of being able to act independently of him.”
“Well,” she said, “that’s a better answer than I’ve heard before. I’m glad you believe in evolution – you think really differently to them.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I still can’t accept all that other silly stuff, like talking donkeys and a virgin having a baby. How could anyone believe that?”
“I don’t think donkeys can talk,” I replied, “but I do believe in the virgin birth.”
She looked at me with surprise. “Do you? How is it possible? Did God just plant a little fertilised egg in there? Was Jesus really related to Joseph and Mary, or was all his DNA from God?”
“I know you don’t believe in God,” I said, “but let’s treat it as a hypothetical. If God could reach out his finger and say ‘Let there be light’ and the big bang began, then he could equally reach out and fertilise a seed in Mary.”
“Sort of like divine IVF?” she said.
“That’s not a bad way to put it.” I replied.
“Well,” she said, “I don’t believe all that nonsense, but you’ve given me something to think about. I’ll take all that away and ponder it.”
There was a short pause. Then she said: “I hope you don’t think I’ve been disrespectful to you?”
“No,” I said, “I don’t think you could say anything that would offend me. Please feel free to ask and say whatever you like. I’m always happy to have discussions like this.”
The conversation was interrupted round about then. But I suspect when we next meet, she’ll have thought about it, and will challenge me some more.
But I was left wondering.
Do most christians not think about things? Like, if there’s a good God, why is there so much pain and suffering? And can we really believe in miracles, in Jesus’ day or now?
Can most christians answer these sorts of questions? What do they tell their children if they ask questions like this?
This blog is a result of me trying to answer my own questions and those others ask.
Photo: Cottonbro Studio.
