BESLAN.

Chechen gunmen took over a school in southern Russia early in September 2004. After a two day standoff, the crisis ended with hundreds of casualties, many of them young children. We were all deeply shocked by these terrible events.

In the aftermath, John Humphrys interviewed the Arch Bishop of Canterbury on Radio 4's Today programme (in the UK). Rowan Williams concurred with the presenter's sentiments that these events are enough to challenge anyone's faith.

I work as a nurse on a children's intensive care unit in a large hospital in London, and so in my own modest way I have witnessed my fair share of children dying and suffering. I am also a Christian and, I believe, reasonably theologically literate. I have worked in intensive care for many years and have given some thought to the whole subject of suffering. For what it is worth I am putting these thoughts down on paper in the hope that someone, somewhere might find them
helpful.

Firstly, in the above mentioned interview, I wasn't entirely sure what the "faith" was which was under discussion. If we are talking about faith in "human nature" then many people's faith will indeed be shattered. If it is the belief that we live in
the best of all possible worlds, then that too is found wanting.

A couple of other "faith" systems bear examination in the context of suffering. There is the Glenn Hoddle line that "these things happen for a reason"; that bad karma is involved. The victims are paying the penalty of their sins in previous lives. There is also the Richard Dawkins view of life that "there is no design, no purpose, no good and no evil. Only blind pitiless indifference". Personally I find both of these responses to suffering inadequate.

While the events of Beslan were created by ruthless people, it does raise important issues for believing Christians. If God intervenes in human affairs as Christians claim, then why didn't he intervene in Beslan? Human sinfulness
explains some suffering, but not all.

When Christians claim to have been party to a miracle, whether it is a big thing such as a "healing" or a little thing like finding a parking space, I hope that they will be sensitive to those souls around them that have prayed for things which
have not come to pass. Why does God apparently answer one person's prayer for a parking space but denies a parent's prayer for their dying child?

We need to have a theology of suffering in place before we enter a time of trial (though even that luxury may be denied us). The technical term for a defence of God in the context of human suffering is a theodicy and this is what I will attempt in the following thoughts.

In a way, when we ask God to intervene we are asking for him to begin his judgment and bring in his kingdom. Most folk naively assume that God will bump off the bad guys. Evil is always a description for the other, never for ourselves.Yes, God will judge murderers - but what about you who murder your brother in your heart? Do you think you will be left standing?

Then why does God delay intervention? God is patiently enduring the degradation of his creation out of mercy, not wanting any to perish (2 Peter 3:9). There is a Jewish term for the distress God feels over us - "The Oddity of God".

We would all like to know all the "whys and wherefores" of particular events. What is God playing at here? What is the purpose of this apparently meaningless suffering? I have seen Christians attribute meanings to their grief, attempting
to rationalise their faith in a loving God with the loss of a child. Yet - at least to me - the "meanings" they settled on seem tawdry and a poor exchange.Personally, I don't know why the child in bed one died, and the other child in bed two survived.

In the abscence of answers to the "whys", what is it then we need to know? We need to know that God is loving and that God is sovereign. It is vital, in my opinion, that we shift the discussion away from arid philosophising (where there is a danger of sounding as if we Christians are justifying suffering). Consider Jesus reaction to suffering. In John 11 we have the story of Jesus, Martha, Mary and Lazarus (John 11:1-44). Lazarus was ill and his family sent word to Jesus to come to their aid. Inexplicably he delays his departure, and when he arrives Martha gives him a piece of her mind. Jesus replies, "Your brother will rise again" (v23). Martha knows her theology, thank you very much - she believes in the resurrection (v24). Then Jesus says something amazing. "I am the resurrection and the life" (v25). Faith is not a theological abstraction, it is trust in a person. Jesus isn't asking her whether she believes in the resurrection, but whether she believes in him. Of course we know that the story ends with Lazarus being raised to life, but before we get that demonstration of his awesome power, we are given some insight into the mind of God. Jesus is deeply moved and greatly troubled (v33). And Jesus wept (v35). In this we see God suffering along side those who grieve. I may not know the "why" of suffering within God's eternal plan, but in Jesus I have the "who" question of God's character settled. If I may coin a neologism, in Jesus we see the "Theoddity" of God.

And it is Jesus who will have the last word on Beslan.


[This article was first published in the December 2004 issue of]
[The Briefing, issue 315. Matthias Media/The Good Book ]
[Company. http://www.thegoodbook.co.uk/ ]