About Philip
Growing up in a strict, fundamentalist church in the southern USA, a young Philip Yancey tended to view God as “a scowling Supercop, searching for anyone who might be having a good time—in order to squash them.” Yancey jokes today about being in recovery from a toxic church. “Of course, there were good qualities too. If a neighbor’s house burned down, the congregation would rally around and show charity—if, that is, the house belonged to a white person. I grew up confused by the contradictions. We heard about love and grace, but I didn’t experience much. And we were taught that God answers prayers, miraculously, but my father died of polio just after my first birthday, despite many prayers for his healing.”
For Yancey, reading offered a window to a different world. So, he devoured books that opened his mind, challenged his upbringing, and went against what he had been taught. A sense of betrayal engulfed him. “I felt I had been lied to. For instance, what I learned from a book like To Kill a Mockingbird or Black Like Me contradicted the racism I encountered in church. I went through a period of reacting against everything I was taught, and even discarding my faith. I began my journey back mainly by encountering a world very different than I had been taught, an expansive world of beauty and goodness. Along the way I realized that God had been misrepresented to me. Cautiously, warily, I returned, circling around the faith to see if it might be true.”
Ever since, Yancey has explored the most basic questions and deepest mysteries of the Christian faith, guiding millions of readers with him. Early on he crafted best-selling books such as Disappointment with God and Where is God When it Hurts? while also editing The Student Bible. He coauthored three books with the renowned surgeon Dr. Paul Brand. “No one has influenced me more,” he says. “We had quite a trade: I gave words to his faith, and in the process he gave faith to my words.” In time, he has explored central matters of the Christian faith, penning award-winning titles such as The Jesus I Never Knew, What’s So Amazing About Grace? and Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? His books have garnered 13 Gold Medallion Awards from Christian publishers and booksellers. He currently has more than 17 million books in print, published in over 50 languages worldwide. In his memoir, Where the Light Fell, Yancey recalls his lifelong journey from strict fundamentalism to a life dedicated to a search for grace and meaning, thus providing a type of prequel to all his other books.
Yancey worked as a journalist in Chicago for some twenty years, editing the youth magazine Campus Life while also writing for a wide variety of magazines. In the process he interviewed diverse people enriched by their personal faith, such as President Jimmy Carter, Habitat for Humanity founder Millard Fuller, and Dame Cicely Saunders, founder of the modern hospice movement. In 1992 he and his wife Janet, a social worker and hospice chaplain, moved to the foothills of Colorado, and his writing took a more personal, introspective turn.
“I write books for myself,” he says. “I’m a pilgrim, recovering from a bad church upbringing, searching for a faith that makes its followers larger and not smaller. Writing became for me a way of deconstructing and reconstructing faith. I feel overwhelming gratitude that I can make a living exploring the issues that most interest me.
“I tend to go back to the Bible as a model, because I don’t know a more honest book. I can’t think of any argument against God that isn’t already included in the Bible. To those who struggle with my books, I reply, ‘Then maybe you shouldn’t be reading them.’ Yet some people do need the kinds of books I write. They’ve been burned by the church, or they’re upset about certain aspects of Christianity. I understand that feeling of disappointment, even betrayal. I feel called to speak to those living in the borderlands of faith.”
I wonder if you have a study guide for “Where is God When it Hurts?” ? We are going to use this book with our High School student Bible Study next semester and are looking for one. Thank you for your challenging and engaging style of writing.N
There is no standalone study guide, but the current edition has study and discussion questions included in the back. All the best!
Philip
Philip,
My father asked me to read, “The Question That Never Goes Away.” I did. Here are my thoughts to my 74 year old Christian father, the most wonderful man I know.
—–
Mom & Dad,
Thank you again for the willingness to have the discussion. I’ve read the book and sat on my thoughts for a few days. I considered not commenting, but I just gotta be me.
Philip says, “History staggers under the weight of suffering brought about by human hatred and ambition.” Yes, this appears true. And Phil is correct about one thing: even after completing his book, it’s still “The Question That Never Goes Away.” I was initially surprised and then saddened by the fact he says, “I don’t know.” This is extraordinarily unhelpful.
As anyone can, I can list tragedy after tragedy and in not a single instance is there evidence some celestial entity intervenes. Stalin’s Great Terror, Katrina and Galveston’s storms, Europe’s Black Death, China’s incredibly deadly dynasty battles, the tornado outbreak in 2011, WWI, WWII & The Civil War, the Holocaust, throwing acid on Afghani schoolgirls, religious wars such as the Thirty Years’ War and the Crusades, Krakatoa, last month’s Hajj Pilrimage trampling, Idi Amin’s reign of terror, Oklahoma City, the Spanish Influenza epidemic, Bhopal and Union Carbide’s methyl isocyanate poisioning (I teach about this one in HazMat class), Haiti’s quake, Rwanda’s genocide, Sandy Hook, female genital mutilation, the Challenger Space Shuttle, or closet to me, 9/11. It doesn’t end. Phil tries to reassure me over and over that just faith that God is in control offers great comfort and peace. I can’t see it. I just can’t accept this as a Master Plan. And further, if this is the case, how could anyone bend a knee to whichever deity is responsible for this plan? I certainly cannot.
For me, here’s the take-away:
1. He does not know why evil exists
2. Help those who suffer
3. God chooses not to intervene, but has a plan you can trust
He says that the only thing we can count on is faith in “Immanuel,” or “you are with me.” In light of tragedy, this is difficult to accept. If God had been seen in the last 500 years helping anyone, this statement has great power. However, I know of not a single case in 5 centuries (or 20 really) where He has. Phil goes on to quote Isaiah’s take on “… a child who would be called ‘Wonderful counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,’ [who] would someday restore justice to the Earth.” This, of course, begs the question, “When Phil? When?”
I was exasperated on coming to this summation. However, consider this summation but from a secular perspective:
1. Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) doesn’t know why evil exists
2. Médecins Sans Frontières helps those who suffer
3. God chooses not to intervene, but Médecins Sans Frontières has a plan you can trust (to the point of losing 13 staff members to a recent US air strike)
Why the difference? Médecins Sans Frontières is a godless organization. It seems apparent they feel waiting for God’s intervention is misplaced.
I’ve stood at Ground Zero in Hiroshima. I’ve stood on the Killing Fields in Cambodia. I’ve stood in front of the ovens in Auschwitz. I’ve stood where New York City’s World Trade Center once was. I’ve stood at Patong Beach where the 2004 Tsunami hit Thailand. I’ve stood near the Yangtze River where in 1931 a flood killed four million. I’ve stood in Eastern Samar in the Philippines were Typhoon Yolanda killed over 6,300 of Ruby’s countrymen and women. I’m open to the theophany. But, in its absence, there’s simply no reconciliation to be made. For me, and only me, this was settled before Jesus was said to have walked the Earth — 300 years BCE, as a matter of fact. Epicurus’ famous paradox reads,
“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?
Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing?
Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing?
Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing?
Then why call him God?”
No doubt you’ve heard me say that no one now worships Poseidon, Zeus, Ra, Odin or Quetzalcoatl. Seems a shame that we’ve spent a few millenia building houses of worship for the gods Shiva, Allah, Buddha and most recently, Xenu. Couldn’t all of that money have been better spent? As an aside, I learned of Epicurus while reading about one of my heroes (though broken) Thomas Jefferson. He considered himself Epicurean and there’s little doubt that phrases like “unalienable rights,” “all men are created equal” and others stem from TJ’s understanding of Epicurus.
On p. 89, Phil says, “Yet it does help us to see God not as a remote being, untouched by what we go through on Earth, but rather as One who is willing to experience it in person.” I just don’t understand. How is this logic possible? One sentence later he says, amazingly, “We go through suffering not alone, but with God at our side.” On what grounds can you make the statement? God was at the side of the 343 firefighters climbing the towers on September 11, 2001? This is illogical. The firefighters didn’t need a supreme being at their side. They needed water. Or better, they needed celestial intervention to divert a couple Boeing 767s a hundred feet into the Hudson. He goes on with, “Because of Jesus, we have the assurance that whatever disturbs us, disturbs God more. Whatever grief we feel, God feels more. And whatever we long for, God longs for more.” Again, on what grounds can you make this statement? This is understandably wishful thinking. So, you’re saying that he suffers more than we do yet stands with folded arms of indifference? Phil concludes saying the jury is out. That, “We cannot really reconcile our pain-wracked world with a loving God because what we experience now is not the same as what God intends.” How can he speak to this? It’s clear he hopes for this. But, as for a factual statement this is extraordinarily unsatisfying. And frankly, obscene.
In my 34 year career in the Fire Service, I’ve heard it countless times: “Thank God for protecting me in this crash.” On reflection later at the firehouse washing blood off my hands and face, it always occurs to me: how egotistical, conceited and exclusionary this statement really is. God chose you to survive, but the family returning from the Christian retreat in the minivan all lost their lives? It’s just illogical, but somehow this notion survives.
When I teach fire safety (to adults, and after a warning), I show a video from the 2003 Station Nightclub Fire, very, very similar to last night’s fire in Bucharest. A camera crew filmed the entire event from start of the fire inside to its complete destruction from the outside. The National Fire Codes changed as a result of the 100 people killed and 230 injured. But, all that was needed was the required wider exit. Clearly any deity worth his salt could have opened a window. Or punched a hole in the wall. Or shone a light towards the back exit. Or better, prevented the ignition. Instead, I have a video of the front door of the club crammed with concert goers as they burn alive feet first. It’s just excruciating to watch. Phil quotes a Pentecostal pastor, “When God seems absent, sometimes it’s up to us to show his presence.” Phil comments, “Often the world only knows the truth of Immanuel, “God with us,” because of his followers.” Again, this is wholly dissatisfying. Can’t the same be said about Zeus? Or Allah? There’s either evidence or there is not. Carl Sagan popularized the phrase, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” Yes Carl, yes.
Near the end of the book, Phil quotes a pastor speaking after a school shooting which killed 17 in Scotland. The pastor said he gathered around youths paying tribute by lighting candles. With tears down his face the pastor said a prayer and suddenly one teenager said, “I must change!” He then discarded a knife while another pulled a piece of bicycle chain from his pocket and did the same. The pastor wrote later, “Was God in Dunblane? Of course.” I’m dumbfounded. Simply dumbfounded. Evidence of God’s presence is a teen placing a knife under some flowers while days before 16 children and 1 teacher at Dunlane Primary School are gunned down? This logic is infuriating. Phil says a Newtown parent asked him, “Will God protect my child?” To which he replied, “Yes! Of course God will protect you. Let me read you some promises from the Bible.” Again, I’m dumbfounded. Was this question not asked at any time before the Sandy Hook shootings? Did not one parent pray before their child left for school, “God protect my child?” Did not one child themselves pray, “God protect me?” How can you possibly say to a Newtown parent, “Yes! Of course….” Phil later has to correct himself with, “No, I’m sorry. I can’t promise that.” Exactly, no one can. But God does indeed promise this very thing: “The LORD will protect you from all harm; he will protect your life.” (Psa. 121:7) “No harm will overtake you; no illness will come near your home.” (Psa. 91:10) “No harm befalls the righteous, but the wicked have their fill of trouble.” (Prov. 12:21) “No weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed….” (Is. 54:17) Which is it Phil?
It appears to me that nothing, from Elizabeth Fritzl to Stalin to the 2004 Tsunami, will force a real discussion. Instead, we get blind reliance on ancient texts or ridiculous comments from Pat Robertson. Close-mindedness has a horrible track record: slavery, priest abuse, mysogony, women’s right to vote, etc. On page 121, Phil says, “… as I pondered the question [Where is God when it hurts?] after Sandy Hook, to my surprise I felt my faith affirmed, not shattered.” He quotes Desmond Tutu, “For us who are Christians, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is proof positive that love is stronger than hate, that life is stronger than death, that light is stronger than darkness, that laughter and joy, and compassion and gentleness and truth, all these are so much stronger than their ghastly counterparts.” I agree. Let me try that sentence again with a substitution: “For us who believe in Germanic gods, the death and resurrection of Odin is proof positive that love is stronger than hate, that life is stronger than death, that light is stronger than darkness, that laughter and joy, and compassion and gentleness and truth, all these are so much stronger than their ghastly counterparts.” Or better, how about from my perspective, “For us who are non-believers, my life experience is proof positive that love is stronger than hate, that life is stronger than death, that light is stronger than darkness, that laughter and joy, and compassion and gentleness and truth, all these are so much stronger than their ghastly counterparts.” Why use Jesus? This is, or should be, common knowledge. Odin, by the way, took a spear and drove it into his side. Then hung himself for nine days. He was then resurrected.
Just like the Hague revoked the tax exempt status of the Church of Scientology this week, I’d revoke them all. I mean, feel free to believe in the spirits of thetans blown up in a nuclear explosion on earth by the evil dictator Xenu 75 million years ago if you’d like. But, let’s care for the less fortunate, or how about veterans, teachers and firefighters before we build yet another church. Instead of tax exempt, I’d take some of that cash previously making it’s way to the pockets of Pat Robertson, Creflo Dollar and his $65 million jet, or the recent pastor in Singapore found guilty of extorting $37 million from a church “Famous for its slick image and wealthy brand of Christianity….” and do something much more edifying with it. For the record, this Singaporean pastor stole the money to fund his wife’s ailing pop career and, of course, to provide himself a luxury lifestyle including a $20,000/month Los Angeles mansion. I can think of better ways to spend a quarter million dollars a year in rent. Especially when 80 percent of the world’s population live on less than $10/day. Including every single member of my wife’s extended family.
Phil quotes a couple New Atheists and says, ” ‘Is that what you’ve experienced?’ I asked those who had gathered in Newtown. Standing before a close-knit, grieving community, the New Atheists’ assumptions rang all the more hollow.” Are you suggesting that whatever is less hollow is true? Why deny Science? Clearly, as he quoted, we are in fact “a momentary cosmic accident that would never arise again if the tree of life could be replanted.” How you feel about established fact is not at issue. The issue is why God allows suffering. He goes on to say, “I don’t think so. I have seen an outpouring of grief, compassion, and generosity — not blind, pitiless indifference….I’ve seen demonstrated a deep belief that the people who died mattered, that something of inestimable worth was snuffed out on December 14.” How dare he say that non-believers, and in his case, non-Christians do not pour out compassion and generosity? This is not helping the Evangelical cause. In fact, as I’ve pointed out before, the biggest group of givers on Kiva is Atheists, second are Christians. Takes 2 seconds — go check out kiva.org. You’ll see for yourself that the Atheists lead the pack. They say, “We loan because: We care about human beings and understand that it takes people to help people.” The Christians say, “We loan because: Pure and undefiled religion before God the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their misfortune and to keep oneself unstained by the world. (Jam. 1:27)” Why the difference? I loudly object to Phil’s line of thinking. The only thing hollow is Phil’s disappointing attempt at suggesting the Christian God with His folded arms of indifference is something worth worshiping.
In about 6 hours, an asteroid will pass Earth, in astronomical terms, by a hairsbreadth. Is God purposefully steering the asteroid to miss us like He could have done on 9/11? It’s unlikely. It’s just gravity affecting the motion of celestial bodies — which I can see the effects of, measure and predict with unerring accuracy. I can tell you within nanoseconds when that very asteroid will pass us again 1,000 years from now. That’s something to believe in. There’s the evidence that demands a verdict. And the verdict is in.
In honor of this Halloween near miss, I’ll close with an astronomer and a couple astronauts:
“There is perhaps no better a demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.” — Carl Sagan, regarding the view of Earth from space in Time.
“It’s the abject smallness of the earth that gets you.” — Stuart Roosa, Apollo 14
“We learned a lot about the Moon, but what we really learned was about the Earth. The fact that just from the distance of the Moon you can put your thumb up and you can hide the Earth behind your thumb. Everything that you’ve ever known, your loved ones, your business, the problems of the Earth itself—all behind your thumb. And how insignificant we really all are, but then how fortunate we are to have this body and to be able to enjoy loving here amongst the beauty of the Earth itself.” — Jim Lovell, Apollo 8 & 13
“It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.” — Neil Armstrong
“For those who have seen the Earth from space, and for the hundreds and perhaps thousands more who will, the experience most certainly changes your perspective. The things that we share in our world are far more valuable than those which divide us.” — Donald Williams, pilot for Spaceshuttle Discovery and commander for Spaceshuttle Atlantis
“This planet is not terra firma. It is a delicate flower and it must be cared for. It’s lonely. It’s small. It’s isolated, and there is no resupply. And we are mistreating it. Clearly, the highest loyalty we should have is not to our own country or our own religion or our hometown or even to ourselves. It should be to, number two, the family of man, and number one, the planet at large. This is our home, and this is all we’ve got.” — Scott Carpenter, Mecury 7
“When you’re finally up at the moon looking back on earth, all those differences and nationalistic traits are pretty well going to blend, and you’re going to get a concept that maybe this really is one world and why the hell can’t we learn to live together like decent people.” — Frank Borman, Apollo 8
“You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, “Look at that, you son of a bitch.” — Edgar Mitchell, Apollo 14
“I really believe that if the political leaders of the world could see their planet from a distance of 100,000 miles their outlook could be fundamentally changed. That all-important border would be invisible, that noisy argument silenced. The tiny globe would continue to turn, serenely ignoring its subdivisions, presenting a unified facade that would cry out for unified understanding, for homogeneous treatment. The earth must become as it appears: blue and white, not capitalist or Communist; blue and white, not rich or poor; blue and white, not envious or envied.” — Michael Collins, Gemini 10 & Apollo 11
I love you two very much,
Doug
—–
Ruby is my wife. Philip, did I misstep? If so, where?
Cordially,
Doug
You did not misstep, no. I have been wrestling with these issues for my entire writing career, hence previous book titles like Where Is God When It Hurts, Disappointment with God, and The Gift of Pain. You raise powerful questions and arguments that no one can fully answer. Strangely, I can find most of them articulated in the Bible itself–Job, Lamentations, Habakkuk–so we’re in good company. It’s wonderful that you have such an open line of communication with your parents.
Philip
P.S. I see no need to comment on the many points you made. There are a couple of clarifications, though. To the Newtown parents: “More than anything I wanted to answer with authority, ‘Yes! Of course God will protect you.'” I never said that, as you seem to think; indeed, my point was the same as yours, that I couldn’t say such a thing. And one other: I don’t know about kiva.org, and I don’t in any way minimize the compassion and practical help from atheists and groups like MSF; there are a lot of studies, however, that show volunteering and charitable giving are substantially higher among church attenders. It’s not a competition, of course; I welcome all contributions to “the common good,” and I imagine you do too.
Philip,
I’m grateful you took the time to write and I am thankful for the open discussion you’re willing to have with all your readers.
Cordially,
Doug