I am Not in Control... And Thank God for That

There’s an old African proverb that says Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.

From time to time I am reminded of this, especially with the recent news of my good friend Joel’s diagnosis of multiple myeloma. He’s in his late 30’s, works as a Christian counselor, is married to a beautiful wife and has three precious children. While the diagnosis is not terminal, there is still a great deal of “shock and awe” that accompanies it. Joel and his family are dealing with it quite remarkably. Joel and his wife are well adjusted emotionally and psychologically, and their spiritual roots run deep: they have an abiding and inspirational faith in the healing power of God – whether through miraculous healing or a physician’s treatment.

I am happy (and relieved!) they are dealing with this in such a mature and well-rounded way. They have their moments, of course, and this phase of their journey has really only begun. They know there are some difficult days ahead. But they are some of the most spiritually healthy people I know. And I am sure – whatever lies ahead – they will face it with the same courage, honesty, faith, hope and love with which they have faced every day of their life together. I bless them for that. And I thank God for them.

As for me, my responses vary, though I frequently find myself angered by it all.

There is still part of me that simply doesn’t know how to respond. My friend has cancer. My 37 year old friend has cancer. It isn’t right. It just isn’t right.

There is so much of me that wants to rage against the injustice and inherent wrongness of it. I want to lash out at God for allowing this to happen. Really, how could he allow this? I understand terrible things happen to undeserving people all the time, but this is my friend! And it’s not right that this should happen to my friend.

Of course, I realize that while my anger is valid and appropriate, it is not life-giving. Anger must be expressed and dealt with, but once it has been validated and processed, I can only move on toward deeper expressions of my faith. I’m so glad God isn’t afraid of my anger, but I’m also glad he has given me enough grace to move past it and to begin the necessary task of processing the reality of my friend’s journey… and how I can best support him and encourage him.
In the midst of my moments of ravings over the injustice of what’s happened (and life in general) I have been reminded of something said by one of my favorite fictional characters, Gandalf the Grey, of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. The wise wizard Gandalf is speaking to the hobbit Frodo, after Frodo has declared that the creature known as Gollum “deserves death.” Gandalf says

Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends.

Tolkien was, of course, a devout Christian (Catholic) who insisted The Lord of the Rings was primarily a Christian work, reflecting the narrative, beliefs and worldview of orthodox Christianity. Here Gandalf utters a word of wisdom that is as relevant to us who live in the so-called “real world” as it was to those who dwell in fictional Middle-earth.

Gandalf’s not-so-subtle rebuke is a reminder to me that though I am all too eager to determine what is “right” and “wrong” (and pronounce my verdicts accordingly) such eagerness does not qualify me to judge, nor does it rank me on par with the Almighty.

I am not a qualified judge. And I am certainly not God. I am but a humble seeker who must go wherever the Almighty leads me to discover His truth and wisdom.

As you can tell, I am now in the sometimes "slow as molasses" process of discovering one such truth: I am not in control. That may sound elementary, but consider this: how much of your life is lived by the assumption that you are in control? Do you ever plan your day in advance? I certainly do. Why? Because I assume I can control the events that will involve me that day. I assume I can predict exactly what I’ll be doing and when I’ll be doing it. I assume nothing will happen that will throw me off course. I assume… I assume… I assume…

At the very least I have learned to be flexible in my daily routines and to allow for the occasional surprise that throws a wrench into all my carefully laid plans. But those are just the mundane things. Cancer isn’t mundane. And my friend getting diagnosed with it isn’t either. While I may be prepared for a meeting to be cancelled or a patient visit to last longer than anticipated or a surprise visit from an old friend, I am certainly not prepared for anything as grandiose or anxiety-provoking as a cancer diagnosis for one of my closest friends.

If I were in control (like God), then of course things would be different. My friends would never be diagnosed with cancer – or heart disease or emphysema or any other life-threatening illness. My friends would be comfortable and safe, free from worries and fears and dangers of all kinds. We would have all the comforts and amenities that come from being in control: money, status, power.

But what would we really have? Our lives would be different, but I suspect they wouldn’t be better. I’d probably end up like Jim Carrey’s character in Bruce Almighty. Though he’s given all of God’s power, he doesn’t have the wisdom or foresight to use that power in a way that actually helps people. Everyone ends up suffering, and Bruce is forced to relinquish his control and allow God to be God in his life on God’s terms, not Bruce’s.

[Apparently it pays to be “my friend.” I just realized that I didn’t speak of “the whole world” or “everybody” in reference to who would be safe, happy, healthy, etc. So if I’m ever promoted to the having the power and control of the Almighty, you’d better be my friend!!!!]

So what am I left with? If I am not in control and cannot hand out life and death in a way that not only respects and values human freedom but also allows space for God to work in ways to redeem creation, then what is left for me?

I suppose I must allow my fears and doubts to guide me into further dependence on God. As Father Richard Rohr says, “We have to face our fears and doubts from page one. An awful lot of religion is an excuse for not facing our fears and doubts. True religion is not denial but transformation” (Job and the Mystery of Suffering, 19).

I have discovered copious amounts of wisdom and truth in not denying my fear, doubt, anger or even shame. Instead, if I allow them to function as giant flashing signposts, then I am more aware of those places within where I need more of God’s transformational grace to change me and allow me to grow deeper as a disciple of Jesus.

Gandalf is right about another thing, too. “The wise cannot see all ends.” After all, it was Gollum who destroyed the One Ring, not Frodo! As a teacher of mine once said, “Paradoxically, it is the thing that enslaves you that carries the key to your freedom.” But I’ll save that one for another post…

Much love to ya’ll.