Life is unfair. There are people in this world that are blessed with everything and people who are damaged by anything. Yesterday I went to a plenary session on individuating medicines in mental health where the point was made that there are divergences in genes that change your resilence to trauma, that influence your response to antidepressants, and probably make you more or less vulnerable to depression in the first place.
The people who have these vulnerabilities then tend to choose actions that make them more vulnerable: as it was said the aim at present is to be able to say to parents “your child has a 10% chance of getting bipolar so make sure he’s not bullied (which we can almost do now) and eventually “your child has a 10% chance of bipolar — he should have this vaccine”
But we are not there yet. We have to use the technology we have. It’s not fair, and it is not going to be fair. And if you read this passage, Christ indicates the unfairness is predestined.
10Then the disciples came and asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” 11He answered, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. 12For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 13The reason I speak to them in parables is that ‘seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand.’ 14With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says:
‘You will indeed listen, but never understand,
and you will indeed look, but never perceive.
15 For this people’s heart has grown dull,
and their ears are hard of hearing,
and they have shut their eyes;
so that they might not look with their eyes,
and listen with their ears,
and understand with their heart and turn —
and I would heal them.’
16But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. 17Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”
This follows from the parable of the sower. I discussed clutter yesterday, in our heads and in our lives, and how this can crowd out the gospel, crowd out what is important.
I’m not God. God has full knowledge of our past and our future. He stands outside the passage of time and can see how we were chosen from the beginning… but for us, this feels unfair.
But yet… I was at dinner with two colleagues and one of them — a very wise Parisienne — pointed out that you could not do it all, you could not have it all. At times she was a mother. At times a doctor, at times a therapist. But not all at once.
And my observation is that the habits of her life have made her who she is: her choices have made her fate: she has had much, and much more has come to her.Out lives are a series of cumultive choices, for good or for ill.
Which brings me not to the parable but to our attitude to Christ. We are blessed. We have the words of our saviour, written, translated, checked and rechecked: we were not with Christ but we have the accounts of those who were the witnesses of his life and heard his teaching.
Yet we rebel. For the predestination of our lives feels unfair: we seek prediction but we want it all to be well.
Butif it is all well, then there is no feedback loop: no consequences: no ability to learn. And if all is well there is no justice. We rebel against that as well.
And in doing that, we forget that we are not God, we do not have perfect knowledge, we do not make perfect predictions, and the dreaams of the speakers yesterday remain but fantasies. My worry is what will happen when the dreams become reality: what will happen when we can predict: for that power comes with a responsbility that I fear humans cannot handle.