Devil Goes Missing? (eBook)

CHAPTER 2

THEOLOGICAL ISSUES

“I don’t believe in the devil,” proclaimed a cathedral canon at an open diocesan meeting.

“Believing in the devil doesn’t fit my world view,” says a future senior cleric over lunch.

“Isn’t it time we stopped conniving with this medieval mumbo-jumbo [about the deliverance ministry]?” asks an elderly cleric (see page 28) at a question session at a cathedral training day devoted to the healing ministry.

Such views are widespread particularly, I think, among the clergy. They have been expressed since at least the seventeenth century when the Latitudinarians, a group who were somewhat uninterested in dogma, church organization or liturgy, were very influential. Their dislike of what they called “enthusiasm” paved the way for the Methodist revival, which came partly as a sharp reaction to their views.

During the Second World War, the influential German theologian, Rudolf Bultmann, maintained that it was impossible to believe in the world of angels and devils, and at the same time to make use of aeroplanes and electric light.1 This paved the way for a very sceptical view of God and Scripture, which was rampant when I was at theological college in the 1960s.

Denial of the supernatural was the order of the day. Angels, especially in nativity plays, were an embarrassment. Evil spirits, especially after well-publicized cases that had ended in murder or other tragedies, were worse. Healing stretched the faith of parish priests. Usually their prayers seemed to be unanswered and they were left trying to explain the apparent absence of God to the bereaved. It was much simpler to construct a theology which avoided all these pitfalls.

There was a general feeling that psychiatry had explained so-called demon possession and that there was no credible evidence for a supernatural world. Some of my fellow students at what was then a very liberal theological college in Cambridge, ended up as social workers. They were honest enough to realize that their views were incompatible with normal parish ministry.

There were at least three other strands of thinking which reinforced this view. Belief in the devil, it was alleged, inevitably led to Dualism. This concept saw the forces of good and evil as “the outcome of separate and equally ultimate first causes”.2 Religions such as Hinduism, which taught of mighty battles between the gods, reinforced this view. Theologians pointed out that the devil gets little mention in the Old Testament, until Judaism comes under the influence of Persian Zoroastrianism during the Babylonian exile. Zoroastrianism teaches a dualistic view of life.

Secondly, the theory of Kenosis (based on the Greek word for “emptying”) was drawn from Philippians 2, particularly verses 5–7: “Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (ESV). It was argued that Jesus was limited by the knowledge of his time. Obviously He thought that the world was flat, that creation took six days, that Jonah was literally swallowed by the whale, and that demons existed. A slight variation of this viewpoint postulates that, because Jesus’ disciples believed in the existence of evil spirits, Jesus (who knew better) went along with this world view for their sake. This argument is far from being universally accepted. But, even if we do accept it, we shall see below that it shouldn’t affect our understanding of evil.

Thirdly, the rise of the charismatic movement caused great concern. Many charismatics (that is people who have received an empowering experience of the Holy Spirit) were keen on exorcism and tended to see the devil as directly behind every misfortune. In some circles it was normal to see all illness as directly implanted by the devil. More particularly, illnesses like cancer were often/usually thought to be caused by evil spirits. At least one influential teacher, using a curious exposition of Luke 17:37 and Matthew 24:28, taught that it was normal for people to be demonized and that new converts would need some sort of deliverance ministry.3 In extreme cases charismatics, particularly from Africa, would try and beat devils out of their children and perform dangerous and even life threatening exorcisms.

It was argued, not unreasonably, that trying to exorcise people who were obviously suffering from some form of mental illness was offering them a quick fix, which would inevitably make the situation worse and complicate long-term medical treatment. It was felt to be much safer to suspend belief in a negative spiritual world than to encourage people to see evil spirits everywhere, and the devil directly behind every tragic or evil situation.

I met this sort of theology when, just before a parish mission, I survived a direct lightning strike on the Brecon Beacons. “That was Satan trying to destroy the mission,” said our leading speaker. Still somewhat shaken, but rejoicing in my escape, I said, “I don’t think the devil controls lightning.” The idea that the devil would have had the power to organize a lightning strike seems preposterous. A cursory reading of Jesus’ comments about the Tower of Siloam falling down and killing people (Luke 13:4–5) should remind us that we live in a fallen world where accidents (and lightning strikes) are part of the warp and woof of our human existence.

Thus, serious-minded clerics and theologians were convinced that, by writing out the devil from their theology, they were saving people from the double threat of Dualism and the charismatic extremists. They were also expounding the New Testament in a way which took account of twentieth- and twenty-first-century learning. They were following the great Bultmann in demythologizing the Scriptures and making it easier for thinking people to believe. They also were convinced that they were being intellectually honest and using the best tools available to understand the Bible in general, and the life of Jesus in particular. The devil, as my questioner in the cathedral implied, was a figment of medieval mumbo-jumbo, who was best excised from any intelligent modern theology. To be honest, until I unexpectedly had a profound encounter with what appeared to be the forces of darkness, I would have had some sympathy with many of those views. They were, and are, held by people of integrity who are trying to do their best for the church.

One problem would appear to be that such views tend to empty churches (as in seventeenth-century England before the Methodist revival). Another would seem to be that both reason and experience would appear to make them untenable.

Green writes:

The general reaction of intelligent African Christians to accusations of conniving with medieval mumbo-jumbo is, “How can these people be so stupid?” To most Africans, it is obvious that negative spiritual forces exist. Encounters with witchdoctors, for good or ill, leave little room for doubt on these matters. Witchdoctors are powerful and controversial figures. Often they are possessors of really good medicine based on a deep knowledge of local plants. Such knowledge comes at a price and many encounters are frightening, with most being spiritually dangerous.

The well-known atheist, Matthew Parris,5 some years back wrote an article in The Times entitled “Africa needs God” (see Chapter 1, page 28). His main thrust was that the missionaries had done an amazing job in his native Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and Malawi. What had impressed him was not their social work, but their spiritual work in giving people dignity and hope – free from the fear of evil spirits and the power of local witchdoctors. He said that, as a convinced atheist, he was surprised to be writing this. He recognized that for the people he grew up with, fear of evil powers was a constant reality. Presumably he believed they were wrong, but he had the understanding to see that, for many Africans, it was a painful reality which needed to be taken seriously.

The Counter Arguments

The counter arguments can take many forms:

(1) It is difficult, if not impossible, to believe in God if there is no spiritual opposition.

(2) It is possible to form a theology which accepts the existence of...