Welcome

I got the idea for this new blog at the end of the week of New Wine, a Christian festival in Somerset, in August 2011. You might guess from my profile that, although not entirely house-bound, I don't very often get out, and it occurred to me that I might try to create a blog to encourage in our faith people like me whose lives are limited in one way or another. I'm hoping that readers will feel able to contribute their own positive ideas. I'm not sure how it will work, but here goes...!
Teach me, my God and King, in all things Thee to see...
A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye,
Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass
And then the heaven espy.

George Herbert (1593-1633)

Thursday 24 November 2011

Hard question

I spent a large part of yesterday being interviewed by a trio of 2nd-year students from Gloucestershire University's Film Production course. They were doing a balanced documentary on assisted suicide. They'd interviewed two proponents of it, and wanted me as an opposing voice. They had four pages of questions for me.

One of the most interesting questions I was asked and didn't answer that well was: "Would you recommend faith to someone who's in terminal suffering as a way of easing what they're going through?"

My answer was something like, "I wouldn't recommend it for that reason. I'd recommend it because it's true and it works. I don't think that having faith lessens the frustration, or the pain, or the fear of what dying may bring. It doesn't make it easier being cared for, being changed and being 100% dependent." I wish I'd added a "however". However, it's true that God's presence, even when we walk through the darkest valley, does make a crucial difference. It helps that Jesus endured extreme suffering and death. And it helps to know that he rose from the dead - assuring us that there is something extraordinary to look forward to after death. But having faith, of course, raises difficulties for a disabled or terminally ill believer. For example, why does a loving God allow this sort of thing? Why doesn't he heal me? As I wrote in My Donkeybody:

"Don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion. Not that my faith leaves me cold or without resource. Far from it, but it raises more painful questions than it provides answers. I would not advocate it as a panacea for pain. There may be some evidence that it aids the healing process, but it doesn’t reduce the hurting a jot. Instead the person with faith in a divine Creator is forced to ask a lot of ‘why’ questions, which need never bother an atheist. Why is suffering such a widespread phenomenon in the work of a good God? Why has it affected me (or a member of my family) particularly acutely? Is there intention behind pain, or is it mere accident? How do I square this with what I used to believe about a God who loves me? If God is all-powerful and if he’s all-loving, why does he not do something? Why do children, the innocent, suffer? These are hard questions which humans have been asking, I suspect, from the time they first began reflecting. So, ironically, there’s potential for a double downward spiral, of both physical weakness and undermined faith, in a chronic disease, which in normal circumstances you would be able to steer around. However, now, you cannot avoid wondering, and of course you have the time to dwell on your thoughts, as you sit in your chair waiting to be helped to eat or as you find yourself increasingly embarrassing."

As one of my perceptive Facebook friends commented, I was shattered at the end of their five hours here. Probably the documentary will be put on to YouTube in January next year.



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