When I call

Even the animals pant for you (Joel 1:20)
I heard once of a dog that used to say Grace before meals. Not out loud, mind you, but his whole demeanour would be one of thankfulness. Now I'm not sure how much credence I should give to this story, but I am intrigued by Joel's inclusion of animals in his cry to the Lord. 'To you, O Lord, I call...and...even the wild animals pant for you'. He doesn't seem to mean this literally, for he mentions immediately afterwards that the streams have dried up. The wild animals, like my friend's dog, are responding to natural events in a natural way. But, when we look at it, we see something more. As those who recognise God at work in nature, we see the dog's gratitude as belonging to God, and the wild animals' longing as ultimately for God.
I wonder how much it is fair to say this is true of all we see around us. When my son is cross at his poor treatment at the hands of his employers, is some of that anger directed at God? I don't mean he does a John Cleese fist wave at the ceiling and shouts, 'Thank you God, thank you so bloody much'. No, I mean that our sense of outrage at the way the world treats us is rightly founded in an outrage at the way God has set up the universe. At its root, it is God's fault.
Let us follow that line of fault (or thought) for a moment. If you hold, as I do, that God created the whole of reality, then it is hard to avoid the sense that everything that happens is his responsibility. I don't agree with the view that all events are dependent on the initial conditions of the universe. We have real choices, albeit in my view quite rare. But it is still true to say that God is responsible for us. Not necessarily in some sixth day moment of miracle, but just as much in six billion years of natural selection, he made us, as he made all of creation. So in this sense at least, all we do and all we know is his fault.
Don't get me wrong. God did not cause this virus to jump species. God did not sit in the heavens and hatch a plan to wash away our flawed civilisation. But he did allow it. He could have prevented it. And he didn't. So it is quite natural that some will be angry. So what can we say to them? Well, I'd say go for it. God can take it. Anger with God when things go wrong is a sign not only that things really matter to us, but that we take God seriously. We genuinely believe he is the kind of God who is worthy of worship. A God that couldn't stop bad things happening would not be a God worth knowing, indeed, would not be God at all.
But why doesn't he? The short answer is the most difficult one: because he loves us. Our comfortable lives are very bad for us. They make us self-absorbed and complacent. They immunise us against the sufferings of others, and deafen us to the voice of God. What happens to Joel when the world he knows tumbles down around him? He calls on the Lord.
There are cleverer answers of course, all to do with freedom and reality and stuff. Maybe those will appear later. But this is the most important one. Just as the Son chose to go to the cross because he loves us so much, friend and enemy, so the Father allows us to walk the way of the cross because he loves us too much to take it away.
So if you are in great anguish today, have no fear of getting angry with God. Go for it. He can take it. But when you've cried out in rage, don't forget that he loves you. Cry, too, with Joel. 'To you, O Lord, I call, for fire has devoured...'

 

The remains of a back garden bonfire in the late evening light in easier times

(not recent, of course, as the smoke is not good for breathing problems)