And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. (Romans 8:28–29)
A semi-regular editorial note I make on submissions to TGCA is related to pastoral application of the sovereignty of God. It is comforting to know that our lives are not ultimately in chaotic flux. Our loving heavenly Father is in control of all things, perfectly able to bring about all of his good purposes. This gives believers peace in uncertainty, contentment in suffering and great confidence in preaching and prayer.
But even great writers and preachers can claim too much of this truth, over-applying it in ways that go beyond the Scriptures. For example, in his Morning and Evening, Charles Spurgeon writes:
Remember this, had any condition been better for you than the one in which you are, divine love would have put you there.
And in Trusting God, Jerry Bridges writes:
He has a purpose in every pain He brings or allows in our lives. We can be sure that in some way He intends it for our profit and His glory.
At first glance, these seem like heart-warming applications of Romans 8:28–29. The difference lies in the additional rhetorical flourishes and theological claims they are making. Spurgeon explicitly claims that the circumstances a believer finds themselves in are the optimal circumstances for them. This is saying much more than Romans 8 or Ephesians 1: not simply that God is working through all things for good to bring about his purposes, but that each individual circumstance throughout time and space is the very best for each individual believer. And Bridges seems to be ascribing particular purpose for each individual pain: a kind of customised, bespoke program of education and sanctification.
‘The Best of All Possible Worlds’
Such good-intentioned pastoral and devotional application has more in common with Voltaire’s Professor Pangloss than the biblical presentation of the sovereignty of God. In his book Candide, Voltaire mocks inadequate explanations of the presence of evil. The character of Pangloss is his mouthpiece of rationalist philosophy:
Pangloss taught metaphysico-theologico-cosmo-codology. He could prove wonderfully that there is no effect without a cause and that, in this best of all possible worlds, His Lordship the Baron’s castle was the most beautiful of castles and Madam the best of all baronesses.
In the face of the most disastrous and inexplicable catastrophes Pangloss confidently declares:
[A]ll of this is for the very best end, for if there is a volcano at Lisbon, it could be in no other spot; for it is impossible but things should be as they are, for everything is for the best.
This kind of rationalism seeks to explain evil by a justification of optimisation: that when considered as a whole, everything in the world is completely justified by the necessary part it plays in the best possible world. It may point to this or that concrete example of how something bad can be justified in the context of greater goods. Such an argument is easy to lampoon, as Voltaire does, as strained and heartless. As a whole philosophical system it is ultimately unprovable.
To apply this line of thinking to the particular sufferings of an individual believer requires extra conceptual challenges: how are sufferings and conditions to be bounded and itemised? Should all various medical ailments be understood as one ‘condition’ that has a divine purpose? Do the sufferings of one week have a single purpose? Or one month? Furthermore, how do these perfectly customised sufferings intersect with every other person’s life?
The Biblical Teaching of God’s Sovereignty
In arguing this way, such philosophy goes beyond what God’s word reveals to us. God’s word does teach that God has predestined all things; that God is good; that humans and angels are responsible for their actions; that God is not morally responsible for the evil actions and outcomes of humans and angels; that God is at work in this age to bring about good things; that God is working all things out for an ultimate good—including final justice as well as eternal blessing of those who trust in Christ.
But the Bible does not teach that this is absolutely the best of all possible worlds. It does not present a rational ‘theodicy’ which completely explains and justifies the origin of evil and the full extent of suffering throughout time. In its exploration of the problems of evil and suffering in books like Job and Ecclesiastes, the Bible recognises a degree of mystery and disorder in our experience of pain, suffering, evil and injustice.
The God revealed in Scripture is at once unitary, perfect and transcendent as well as personal, willing and acting. The risk of the rationalist line of argument is that God’s actions become dictated by laws of necessity, rather than personal freedom and grace.
Pastoral Risks in Over-Application
Where do these over-applications cause hurt or confusion? They can imply to a person who is the victim of cruel abuse or acute and chronic suffering that somehow the full extent of this was uniquely necessary for their particular sanctification. This comes close to suggesting that we each deserve the extent of the suffering we experience—almost a variation of the argument of Job’s friends.
These over-applications might discourage some from boldly approaching the throne of grace to beg their Father in heaven to relieve them of their suffering. They might hold back from the very biblical practice of lament: pouring out sorrow and troubles, including giving voice to the distress caused by the seemingly illogical and unjust nature of some trials.
Some suffering saints might also become morbidly fixated on seeking to interpret the particular purposes in their sufferings, or the sufferings of others, their community or the countries of the world.
Deployed with too much swagger in the context of evangelism, these over-applications risk being as unconvincing to non-Christians today as they were to Voltaire in the eighteenth century.
Far more helpful and more biblical to apply the range of teachings of Scripture to the sufferings of his people: encouragement in the sanctifying word of the Spirit through suffering; comforting hope in the unstoppable sovereign purposes of God; the wisdom to understand what to expect of this world where sin and death reigns; the power of prayer according to God’s will; the help and support of the church and so on.
When I encounter these kinds of over-statements, the edits are usually quite simple. Occasionally it is removing an unhelpful quotation from Spurgeon. It might involve removing a few exaggerating words or adding a few qualifying words in a sentence. In doing so, I hope the comfort and confidence of the good truth of the sovereign power and love of God can be applied well to God’s suffering people, waiting for the glory and joy to come when Christ returns.
