I have never been in a war, nor have I even served in the military. But I have seen the faces of men who have experienced war, and the tears of those who have served.
Whether we have seen war first-hand or heard stories from others who have, we are prone to ask questions.
“If there is a God, how could He let the atrocities of war happen? Doesn’t the darkness of war disprove the existence of a God who claims to be light?”
These are valuable questions that we should honor and ask. But these uncertainties can only be answered if we are willing to ask tougher and more unsettling questions. War is only part of the cruelties of this world. Genocide, riots, infanticide, murder, and prejudice occur around the globe and in our country. But on a personal and more painful level, we have experienced loved ones die suddenly and without warning, the invisible walls that make those closest to us the most distant, and the broken areas of our own lives. Where is God in the midst of this?
Thankfully, the Bible doesn’t shy away from these questions. It doesn’t tell us to look the other way or solve these problems by simply being nice. The Bible actually acknowledges that things are not the way they are supposed to be. The life we long for, the life without war and pain and shattered pieces, is actually the way it was. But in Eden, man ignored the direction of God and brought life from pure pleasure to utter anguish. While we see reflections of the goodness of Eden in our lives, it could never be like it was.
This only partially answers the “why” of our questions, and doesn’t offer us much consolation. But the comfort comes when we start to examine Jesus. Perhaps some of the most soothing words in the Bible are the shortest: “Jesus wept”. As Jesus comes before the tomb of His deceased friend Lazarus, He doesn’t immediately bring him back to life, nor offer shallow soothing words to those near the grave. Instead, He cries. He weeps, and in His tears, we see His acknowledgement of the pain that this life brings. Our questions are validated by the weeping of Jesus. And yet, this is not the end of the story. Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.
Jesus did not shy away from the pain of our world. Jesus, God Himself, entered into it. Jesus left the pleasure of His Father’s presence to enter into the brokenness and death that we know.
When Jesus was born into 1st-century Palestine, He entered into a world occupied by foreign invaders. Jesus’ own people were not ruling their own land. And yet, this political instability did not keep Him from entering into our shattered world. He came to serve and save those who lived in the midst of brokenness and pain, not unlike our world in the 21st century.
Jesus did not encounter this world’s devastation just through the death of friends, but also in His own body and spirit. He experienced ultimate injustice, wrongly executed by the Romans and Jews in His innocence, and ultimate pain, His Father shunning His sinless Son who took the sin of the world on His back.
The life-giving work of Jesus wasn’t just for the dead man, Lazarus. Jesus promised to make all things new through being punished for the sin of the world. When Jesus says all things will be made new, He means ALL things.
It is much like a beautiful house that has decayed and deteriorated over the years due to misuse and neglect, and then is restored to its original glorious state. The scope of the house’s restoration is every floor, every room, every nook and cranny. The level of the house’s restoration is total. Everything will be made perfectly new.
In a similar way, Jesus will restore all things in this broken world and in all areas of the lives of those who ask Him too. Imagine a realm of peace in this world so total and perfect, that the weapons of war that take people’s lives would be melted and remade into instruments that give life.
As we ask questions about the atrocities of war and of life in general, we see that these questions do not disprove the existence of God. Instead, they reveal more about Him to us, for God does now shy away from our pain, but instead enters into it. The ruin of this world is not from a cruel Divine hand that moves us around like pawns on a chess-board. No, the rubble we experience is the snowball effect from man’s decision against God in Eden.
And yet we see that He is still in control as He is restoring all of life until the day when Jesus returns into the brokenness and pain once more, not to start the process of redemption, but to finish it completely, with finality, and for eternity.
Dedicated to the men of Pigiron, who have been asking the tough questions together since their first reunion in 2002.

