No God, Only Chaos

"All this talk about God was just a childish evasion—desperate lies from a frightened, lonely mortal to himself out in a cold, dark, eternal night."

I read a book several years ago about the Impressionist artist Vincent Van Gogh. It was a fascinating study about an artist who had interested me for nearly thirty years, ever since I’d read Irving Stone's riveting biography, Lust for Life. Stone's book tells the story of the great Dutch artist who went as an evangelist to the miners of the Borinage in Belgium when he was in his early twenties. Vincent was enthusiastic and energetic as he began his ministry, eager to bring Christ to the miners who were as ignorant and illiterate as heathens. The mining conditions were deplorable, the wage/hour ratio outrageous, and what's more, there was no hope of any sort of improvement—ever. The owners turned deaf ears to all pleas. "It is the unsatisfactory lay of the couches," they said. "And that condition we will have to blame on God!" It was a hopeless vicious circle.

When Vincent went to the manager, all he would do was shake his head and say "that is

what turned me from a firm, faithful Catholic to a better atheist. I cannot understand how a God in Heaven would purposely create such a condition and enslave a whole race of people in abject misery for century after century without one hour of providential mercy!"  Stunned Vincent left without a word. But he persisted in his attempts to bring God's comfort to the miners.  Someway, he felt he could help them by giving them the peace of mind that comes in knowing God--in having Him as Friend and Protector. And he succeeded—for awhile. The miners were starved for something like this and they listened with all their hearts.

Then one day a terrible accident occurred in the mines, killing 30 men--among them the foreman, the only man, besides Vincent, the miners trusted.  They asked Vincent if he would go again to the owners and beg, on their behalf, for some sort of assistance and improvement in the working conditions. He did, but there was nothing he could say to persuade them to change.  The owners refused to make any improvements, and if the miners didn't work they said, the mines would be shut down. "Then God only know what will happen to them."

Vincent was defeated.  "God only knows," the owners had said.  But—did He really know? And if He did, why didn't He help them? Why didn't He make the owners change their minds?  Vincent had tried to bring God to the miners as a hope, a protection from the hideous conditions in the mines. He had tried to give them an opiate of religion, if you please. And he had failed. What could he say when the enemy was not the owners after all, but God Himself—the very opposite concept from what he had been preaching? Suddenly Vincent realized that "all this talk about God was just a childish evasion—desperate lies from a frightened, lonely mortal to himself out in a cold, dark, eternal night. There was no God only chaos; miserable, suffering, cruel, tortuous, blind, endless chaos."

Vincent never preached another sermon again. From that moment on, he, too, was an atheist. God had failed him as well as the miners.  Or had He? This story disturbed me as I read it. I recognized a lot of my own thinking when I have been severely disappointed or let down in something I had believed in—maybe even prayed about. Too often I am so sure I am right, that I am doing what God wants me to—and to suddenly discover that I am wrong, or for something terrible to happen seemingly out of the blue, can be a shattering experience. If I am not truly and firmly grounded in my Christian experience, I am apt to lose my perspective, my faith in God. I begin to believe He doesn't care; if He did, He wouldn't have let me down, He wouldn't have let "this" happen. 

It is in times like these that it is hardest for me to remember that God does know best, that He does care for me and is doing all He can for me. When it seems like there is nowhere left to turn, no answers, no hope, it is almost impossible to remember that I am not to live eternally here. But there is an end to the misery, and a chance for a new beginning—one with no dead ends.  As a Christian, I know this.  I have heard it countless times.  But as a human being, I don't always feel this. It is so easy to forget—to blame God for not helping me--instead of realizing that it is the sinful way of the world that makes it seem as if God's hands are tied—for the moment. It is this tendency that disturbs—even frightens—me. At the same time, it is the realization of this tendency that strengthens me. Ellen White tells us in ˆ, volume 9, p. 286 that "All that has perplexed us in the providences of God will in the world to come be made plain. The things hard to understand will then find explanation. The mysteries of grace will unfold before us.  Where our finite minds discover only confusion and broken promises, we shall see the most perfect and beautiful harmony.  We shall know that infinite love ordered the experiences that seemed most trying. As we realize the tender care of Him who makes all things work together for our good, we shall rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

There are many things that we don't understand here on earth. Sometimes it seems as if nothing is going right. And we ask God to help us—expecting Him to answer the way we want.  Sometimes He does, but sometimes He can't. In those times—when we feel like throwing our faith away because it isn't giving the desired opiate effect—we need most to hold on.  Maybe if Vincent had been able to hang on to his faith, he might not have lost his mind.  After he left the mining community, Vincent turned to painting. He spent years trying to find recognition and success as an artist, but mostly met with disappointment and rejection.  Eventually, he suffered a breakdown, cutting off his own ear in his desperation. He was in and out of asylums, trying to find peace, but never finding it.  Maybe he might not have had to spend his life searching for something to fill the gap that was left when he abandoned God. If he had held on, especially in the dark moments, he would have known that without Him, there is nothing.  Only chaos; miserable, suffering, cruel, tortuous, blind, chaos.