Omnipotence

September 26, 2009, at the height of THE typhoon Ondoy

PW: Mama, does God love us?

KG: Of course!

PW: Then why are there storms? At bakit hindi tumitigil ang ulan?

Somehow, I find it hard to answer. How do you explain to an 8-year-old, in a manner that she would understand, why God “allows” these things to happen. For children, God is Vitamin C, who protects us from sickness and harm, or God is like one of those furnace filters, who will filter all the bad things so they won’t reach us. After all, haven’t we all told the children that “everything” is from God?

And although we as adults somehow understand it a bit, we will never be able to toally comprehend this part of God.

I guess the explanation that I can most relate to comes [surprise, surprise] from the book Angels & Demons.

In a particular scene, the camerlengo and Chartrand [the lieutenant working with Olivetti] were talking about the omnipotence of God.

“Terrible things happen in this world. Human tragedy seems like proof that God could not possibly be both all-powerful and well-meaning. If He loves us and has the power to change our situation, He would prevent our pain, wouldn’t He?”

The camerlengo frowned. “Would He?”

Chartrand felt uneasy. Had he overstepped his bounds? Was this one of those religious questions you just didn’t ask? “Well…if God loves us, and He can protect us, He would have to. It seems He is either omnipotent and uncaring, or benevolent and powerless to help.”

“Do you have children, Lieutenant?”

Chratrand flushed. “No, signore.”

“Imagine you had an eight-year-old son. Would you love him?

“Of course.”

“Would you do everything in your power to prevent pain in his life?”

“Of course.”

“Would you let him skateboard?”

Chartrand did a double-take. The camerlengo always seemed oddly in “in touch” for a clergyman. “Yeah, I guess, Chartrand said. “Sure, I’d let him skateboard, but I’d tell him to be careful.”

“So, as this father’s child, you would give him some basic, good advice and then let him go off and make his own mistakes?”

“I wouldn’t run behind him and mollycoddle him if that’s waht you mean.”

“But what if he fell and skinned his knee?”

“He would learn to be more careful.”

The camerlengo smiled. “So although you have the power to interfere and prevent your child’s pain, you would choose to show your love by letting him learn his own lessons?”

“Of course. Pain is part of growing up. It’s how we learn.”

The camerlengo nodded. “Exactly.”