In his book, Defending God: Biblical Responses to the Problem of Evil, James Crenshaw seeks to search the Bible for an adequate response to the problems of evil and “God’s perceived injustice” (p.18). Here I wish to address the common thread which Crenshaw himself notes as unifying his work: “the abiding tension between justice and mercy” (p.18). We shall argue that justice and mercy are harmoniously intertwined within God’s character; two parts of a whole which are not in conflict.
Before proceeding, one introductory comment is in order: Crenshaw’s Biblical search, when subjected to the Biblical canon espoused by orthodox Protestantism, is simultaneously deficient and inflated. Crenshaw’s search takes place almost entirely within the Old Testament Scriptures; a paucity of references are made to the New Testament (deficiency). In addition, Crenshaw includes many extracanonical writings (e.g., 4 Ezra, Sirach, 1 & 2 Macabees) under the umbrella of the Bible (inflation). For the purposes of this post I shall largely ignore this disagreement, save to note here that it cannot be without effect on Crenshaw’s conclusions. A much more serious aspect of Crenshaw’s view of Scripture, and its consequences, shall be addressed later.
Crenshaw makes his view of justice and mercy clear: the two oppose each other. The two are “in tension;” they manifest “conflicting demands,” and are even “irreconcilable” (pp.18;91). Crenshaw opens his book with the dilemma:
Strict justice requires that I get what I deserve, no more and no less. Mercy allows my just deserts to be set aside, my transgression overlooked or forgiven. How can the deity perfectly embody both? (p.3).
Crenshaw sees this conflict evident in YHWH’s great self-disclosure:
The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation (Ex.34:6-7).
The problem, according to Crenshaw is that we have compassion “in astonishing juxtaposition” with God’s judgment (p.92). Even more, how does one square the notion of transgenerational punishment with texts like Ezekiel 18, which seems to invalidate said punishment?
We might first ask where the “conflict” is in this text. God is one who forgives; God is one who judges. Are these qualities indeed mutually exclusive in a personality? Must God be all one or the other? A straightforward reading would simply indicate that God is revealing balance or fullness to His character: He is a God of forgiveness, but He’s no pushover. The apparent conflict with Ezekiel 18 is resolved when one considers the different purposes of the two texts. Where Exodus is a general and explicit revelation of God’s character; Ezekiel is a text written to a specific audience in a very specific situation purposed at stressing individual accountability.
In his fifth chapter, Crenshaw maintains that the Biblical writers struggle to depict a God of an apparent “split personality.” He draws upon the book of Jonah and Joel in particular to stress his point. Where Jonah grows angry with God for His compassion, Joel wrestles with the doctrine of God’s compassion while faced with circumstances that instead indicate a wrathful God. In the end is a God characterized by “Who knows?” Perhaps God will be merciful; perhaps He will be just. Implicit here is that He cannot be both.
We must, or course, reject the notion that God maintains a split personality. Crenshaw does not state so explicitly, but we can only assume that he would not adhere to such doctrine. The Bible will not allow for such a diagnosis (c.f., Dt. 6:4; Mt. 12:25f), nor will logic: how could a perfect God withstand inner conflict? So then, how do we answer Crenshaw’s implication that justice and mercy are conflicting aspects of God? We might consider first his definition of justice, namely that it constitutes getting what one deserves. We ask, then, what does one deserve? Taking God to be the supremely holy, infinite, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, perfect source of all that is, what is the just desert for any rebellion against Him? Be it any sin of any magnitude, we cannot but conclude that offending an infinitely good God warrants infinite punishment.
As such, we note great mercy inherent in God’s justice: God’s justice is intrinsically merciful; in fact, He routinely underpunishes. The two do not oppose each other, but are made manifest in concert with each other. Even if we take an egregious villain who is bound for eternal punishment in Hell, their existence on earth will be seasoned with God’s mercy.
We could draw upon numerous Biblical examples that show these two characteristics working together in God’s personality, but space permits us to consider only the account of David and Bathsheba as a start (2 Sam. 11:1-12:24). Crenshaw takes this account to be one of YHWH’s injustice: David escapes (deserved) punishment while the innocent child of his affair dies, a punishment Crenshaw posits as “the ultimate penalty” (p.137).
In Crenshaw’s view, then, we have of YHWH’s mercy (thus injustice) for David and straight injustice upon his child. Crenshaw seems to forget Nathan’s prophecy to David, however; YHWH’s punishment for his sin: “Out of your own household I am going to bring calamity upon you” (2 Sam. 12:11a). The following chapters in David’s life depict in vivid detail how much he did indeed suffer in the conflicts with his son, Absalom. However, couched in YHWH’s justice is also mercy: David is not stricken from the throne as an unjust king (as perhaps he ought to be), but further union with Bathsheba results in the birth of Solomon, who continues the Davidic line.
Furthermore, we might disagree that David’s child has paid the ultimate price by death. Even if we were to ignore any notion of an afterlife and assume annihilationism, is being taken from a life that will no doubt entail much suffering not an act of mercy? The point weighs in even heavier if an afterlife is considered (i.e., read the New Testament). Herein is an additional example of YHWH’s mercy made manifest in justice.
As for the book of Jonah, indeed, God’s mercy is the focal point; but His wrath is not out of view. With Joel, God’s wrath seems more clearly in view; but His mercy is present as well (Joel 2:13-14). We have no theological dilemma here, but simply different texts of different purposes emphasizing two threads that intertwine to form God’s dealings with humankind.
Crenshaw’s journey through theodicy in the Bible is a provocative one. Each of his chapters considers an approach to theodicy, and in the end, each is found unconvincing. This result is inevitable, given the other common thread running through his book. Namely, that Crenshaw holds a low view of Scripture. Rather than taking the texts he searches to be the infallible Word of God, they are “mythical” (p.15) and “imaginative” (p.10); Moreover, Scriptural authors tend towards manipulation of God and reader (p.10). Crenshaw views Scripture as human authors struggling to depict God; not God revealing Himself through human writers.
To take the Bible on terms other than what it claims for itself is to place oneself above Scripture and thus submit it to one’s own categories, rather than submitting to Scripture’s categories . Crenshaw’s low view of Scripture is what allows him to posit what he calls a “fundamental tenet of theism, that God cannot be known” (p.181). Indeed, in his view God was not known by the authors of Scripture, hence inherent in them is much struggle to reconcile the irreconcilable. Since Scripture is suspect to Crenshaw, his task is juxtaposed: rather than understanding his view of justice and mercy in light of Scripture, he understands Scripture in light of his view of justice and mercy (where have I heard this before?)
In his conclusions about the book of Job, Crenshaw suggests that “God plays by different rules from those projected on the deity by human rationality” (p.189). Here we fundamentally agree, and wonder why this statement cannot be applied to his views of justice and mercy. Perhaps in our economy, one cannot simultaneously exhibit both qualities, but in God’s this is clearly the case.
While I stand in radical disagreement with Crenshaw’s position on Scripture, I agree with his closing remarks: the issue of theodicy cannot be resolved, given an infinite God and finite humanity. We equally agree that this does not relieve us from the task of eagerly seeking out understanding and knowledge; or engaging with such difficult issues. It is not a ticket to complacency.
As a final comment, our lack of understanding ought not to be construed as a deficiency in Biblical theology. It is rather something stated positively: We cannot fully understand God’s ways (c.f., Is. 55:8-9; Job 42:3). This is not “dodging the bullet,” as is suggested by some (e.g., C.S.Cowles in Show Them No Mercy, p.146). Appealing to the mysteries of God which we cannot yet comprehend enjoys a long history. Better yet, it is indicative of a humble posture before God against which I find no good argument.
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danny
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