Divorcing God
A Way to Peace?
Divorce court by Nick Youngson CC BY-SA 3.0 Pix4free
Not my story
I have a friend . . .
No, really.
I suppose this could have been my story. I can imagine circumstances under which I might have pursued the same solution, the same separation, the same hope for relief.
But I’m only a bit player in this story, a caring bystander. I have the frustrated desire to be a marriage counselor between a disillusioned man and his underperforming God.
My friend probably thinks I’ve given up since I don’t force the subject, either on or off the pickleball court. But I’m still reaching for insight, for clues into this massive impasse. And I keep praying.
The lens of skepticism
My friend – let’s call him Frank – had a long and successful career in corrections. I don’t know all the details of his responsibilities over the years, but he says he has seen it all. I can imagine the skepticism that grows after constant exposure to a prison population that never stops insisting they’re innocent.
And a few really are. At least of the crimes for which they’ve been convicted.
I wonder how many of us could be on the other side of the bars if some of our actions – or at least our thoughts – were exposed to public scrutiny by an eager prosecutor. But I digress. We’re not the ones on trial here. God is. He’s the one being sued for divorce.
So I believe skepticism plays a role. When you’ve been lied to and conned for decades by some of the best pros in the business, it sets you up for distrust. Even seeing is no longer believing. But I suspect something deeper, something with longer emotional tentacles, is at play.
Frank discussion
Frank and I have had some deep and interesting conversations. I believe him to be open, honest, and transparent. No one has perfect vision or understanding, but at least he calls ‘em the way he sees ‘em.
He believes in God. He has respect for the Bible. He believes in heaven. He even believes in hell. In fact, he told me he knows one thing for certain: “The moment I pass from this life, I will be there,” he said. “If you knew the things I’ve done in my life, you’d agree with me. No way would God let me into heaven. And if somehow He did, I’d have no respect for Him.”
I’d never heard anyone make a statement like that before.
“I know the gospel,” he continued. “I have an uncle who’s a preacher, a real straight shooter. I respect him. He’s always on my case to come to Jesus. I went to his church for a while. Walked to the altar at the front of the church and ‘got saved.’ Tried my best to live the life, but it just didn’t work for me. I couldn’t do it.”
I get it
The “I couldn’t do it” part rings a bell with me. I take it to mean he has a performance standard in his head that he should live up to. He asked for God’s help and tried his best. Failed anyway. And failure is not acceptable. Especially since he strives for mastery in all kinds of competitive pursuits – and generally performs at a very high level.
I didn’t press for details regarding his failures. I just took him at his word. Easy, since I know so many of my own – and suspect a lot more lurking in blind spots.
Let the disagreements begin
Although we may have a similar standard for how we define Christian living, I think we disagree on what is actually possible from a human standpoint. And what God requires, what He expects our end of the bargain to look like. What an amazing extreme He has gone to in providing for our inadequacies! His method for filling the gaps is nothing short of miraculous.
What Frank and God do agree on is the raw truth of our endless propensity to sin in our fallen state.
How it all started
Originally created as innocent beings in harmonious fellowship with God, our earliest ancestors chose to pursue the subtle deceptions of evil personified in Satan. Rebelling against God’s protective restriction, they opened themselves up to an endless moral dilemma. They – and we – are incapable of discerning right and wrong apart from God’s eternal perspective. Even less, adhering to the right when wrong choices look more attractive.
And we rationalize so easily.
Hopeless
God knows all about it. He makes it clear that we have already been judged and condemned. End of story as far as our efforts are concerned. No amount of self-justification can rescue us.
“Tried and failed” is not just Frank’s admission: it’s the story of everyone who has honestly attempted to rise above the dark side of our nature.
Parting of the ways
What happens next is where Frank and God diverge, where the divorce idea takes shape. Feeling inadequate to perform up to standard, I think Frank is caught between two options. One is to protect his image by hiding his shortcomings, a painful, never-ending lie to his own conscience. The other is to eliminate the impossible standard by divorcing its owner.
What I’ve described so far is hardly the end of the story. Far from the whole picture, it’s only one piece of the puzzle God is assembling. But I think I’ve said enough for now – I don’t want to overstay my welcome.
But wait! There’s more!
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