A Princeton grad student – in his fifth year, having had what I’d consider to be an amazing educational and professional life – committed suicide last Wednesday. He made his suicide note public and asked that it be reproduced in its entirety, instead of having people wonder why he did it.
I am dumbstruck and physically hurting for Mr. Zeller. There is so much here to take in. I myself am depressed, and God and I are still on the outs (big growl of frustration), and I am thinking of the moments when I remember something bad happening to me – and the moments when I feel like I can’t look someone in the eye – and the moments when I think I’m realizing that I won’t ever have a husband or a normal relationship – and the moments when everything’s in a fog -
what if that were my whole life?
By God’s grace, it hasn’t been. But it’s really not easy for me to believe in God’s grace when I read something like this. WHY could SOMETHING not have been different – the abuser have not been so sick in the head (and thus not been an abuser); Mr. Zeller’s personality been different (and thus felt more comfortable sharing things with people); the pressure on male communication not have skewed so far into the “emotionless pragmatism” goal; and do not EVEN get me started on his family.
Honestly, I’m looking for some God-given insight here. Bible passage to point me to? (Only if you know me, please.)
This is the hard part for me to believe, too–the idea that there are people who are destined to not only have crap lives, but then never know God, either. And this is all for God’s glory. I don’t get it.
The only answer I know of in Scripture is this:
What shall we say then? Is there injustice on God’s part? By no means! For he says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, “For this very purpose I have raised you up, that I might show my power in you, and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.” So then he has mercy on whomever he wills, and he hardens whomever he wills.
You will say to me then, “Why does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?” But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, “Why have you made me like this?” Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use? What if God, desiring to show his wrath and to make known his power, has endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction, in order to make known the riches of his glory for vessels of mercy, which he has prepared beforehand for glory?” (Romans 9:14-23)
We all deserve a fate worse than what that guy had. I don’t know why God saved me and not him, but I think the compassionate impulse toward him is right. Maybe the point is, though, to drive us to thankfulness–and to proclamation, and to go after those really broken people in hopes of saving them.
Oof. Whoever says Christianity makes your life easier needs to get a good kick to the shins or something.
Hannah, i don’t know you, but I sympathize with what you’re saying here. I, too, feel an immense pain for Bill Zeller.
First of all, it seems clear that the man was a brilliant intellect and an amazing writer. His suicide note proves that human rationality can’t overcome sin and death. The “darkness” he refers to is spiritual, not rational or understandable via the intellect. And “darkness” is especially repulsive to the rational mind, for the *very reason* that it can’t be explained. The firmer one’s grip, the more confounded one will be.
Secondly, i wanted to share this brilliant and relevant poem by Susan Buffam– a younger Canadian poet whose newest book is called The Irrationalist:
ON SUICIDE
People who commit suicide don’t fail to believe in life.
They fail to believe in death.
Thank you both for your comments.
Manda, thanks for the affirmation…it took me two comments to realize that I posted something in public that makes me feel like a very “weak Christian,” who is so jealous of the people who can raise their hands so readily in worshipping God. That actually IS me right now, and it’s horrible and shameful for me to be saying it in public like this. In the moment, I didn’t have that radar, but now I do, and I’m so glad you responded. I think you’re right, that this will be one of those things we won’t fully get until heaven – and I’m grateful for your generalization of it, because I definitely didn’t (and sometimes still don’t) feel like I have any company in my frustration.
The verses are ones that my mom’s pointed me to in recent times, actually; and it’s hard for me to be able to look at those clearly. Why wouldn’t God want us to have a dialogue with Him about these things if His intentions and methods are perfect? I’m realizing that part of the answer might come with this second comment.
Hi, Mr. (Professor? Dr.?) Belz. You *don’t* know me, but I feel like I know you a little through your family I met at Covenant. I realized after I saw your comment that you must’ve found me through my link to your poetry on the right. I am embarrassed that I didn’t ask for your permission; I found it linked from a friend’s site, and saw it as some kind of glorious, fun institution, rather than seeing the person-behind-the-screen. I’m sorry for that. But I am so glad you got here, and felt compelled to respond in this space.
Thank you for pointing out that aspect to me. A friend of mine grew up Catholic, and now, having been through an undergrad science program and part of med school, she calls herself a “Catholic agnostic.” She points directly to the fact that you can’t PROVE the existence of God, and she says that her mind just can’t handle that. She does say, though, that she thinks she’ll always go to church – it’s the way she was brought up, and she likes it.
I hadn’t thought, until now, that the Light isn’t the only thing the rational mind can’t handle. It’s also the darkness.
And this might, maybe, be part of why we are not to ask “why did You make me like this?” Maybe the “why”s – in a more ultimate sense – would push the conversation into a purely-rational place. Not the appearance of little incidental “why”s (like I do feel assurance that God partly gave my dad cancer to WAKE HIM UP from his own spiritual deadness), but the demanding of one big “why.” And this is a kind of mercy to us.
Thank you, both of you, for your words. I desperately needed them.
No need to be ashamed of feeling like a weak Christian! Truth be told, we all kind of suck at it. Even the people who appear to readily worship likely have all sorts of pain and questions and frustration, or have, or will. This is not an easy calling, and never was.