Divine Cancer and Amipotent Community
By Ryan Miller
My journey from omnipotence to amipotence, discovering God through tangible love, radical community, and deep solidarity amid cancer’s harsh realities.
Cancer sucks. #Understatement, Captain Obvious!
An all-powerful God once gave me hope, comfort, a sense of security, and even prompted my body toward genuine genuflections of deep admiration and awe! This reality all changed when cancer came knocking on God’s Omnipotent door. Cancer is best likened to Satan, incarnate. I have other choice words that shall be censored for the time being, but you get the point. I hate cancer more than I detest the Philadelphia Eagles! (I’m a Dallas fan!)
A dear friend died 10 years ago due to cancer’s evil ways. Cancer killed this beloved young woman in her 30’s, leaving behind a widower, their young girl, and toddler son. Months later, another good friend of mine was sent to the hospital, and the results came back: cancer! He had surgery to remove a tumor from his pancreas, followed with ongoing treatments, but he died not long after the diagnosis, leaving behind a wife, a 4-year-old, and a newborn daughter. As I tearfully type these words, my sister has been battling cancer for 3 years!
Cancer—like many other pure evils in this chaotic world—leaves one dumbfounded. Family and close friends go through a variety of emotions ranging from denial, numbness, anger, strange laughter, confusion, and utter sadness. I have friends who do not—and cannot—believe in God due to dreadful tribulations in our world such as cancer!
I totally get it.
I’ve been open with many close friends and casual conversational partners regarding my intimate faith struggles concerning the toxicity of cancer and the counter ways of a tangible, loving God. I’ve wrestled through my own questions, fears, concerns, doubts and much more. Ever since our first daughter, Caroline, came into the world in 2012, and my friend was diagnosed with cancer that same year, I’ve genuinely struggled with these hard-hitting questions dealing with the problem of evil and suffering in our world.
I’ve wondered, “Does prayer work?”
“Is God even real?”
If so, “God, are you truly listening?”
“Do you care?”
“I mean… do you really give a $#*+?!”
“What are you able to do in this horrible situation?”
“Can you do ANYTHING?”
“Surely, this isn’t your will, right?”
“And if it is your will, I can’t believe in you—or worship you like I used to…”
The struggle has been real and incredibly fierce over the years, indeed! Fortunately, from a theological perspective, I have come to a healthy place deconstructing some previously and long-held, conventional theological beliefs that have been culturally passed down through the centuries via western (Greco-Roman influenced) culture. This theological open and relational reconstructing shift slowly emerged over the past 20 years while venturing into unknown territories and expanding my brain a bit! The shift became exponentially heavier as my wife and I had children (parenting did an even greater number on my conventional theology!), and I dealt with the emotions and inquiries that came from our friend’s aggressive cancer! Over time, I’ve tossed away the omnipotent, omniscient, immutable, and impassible aspects of God that I no longer hold in my back pocket. I’ve been incredibly thankful for several open and relational theologians and am eager to spread the good news of the Amipotent God witnessed throughout the Bible. Still, if I’m completely honest, I continue to struggle with the problem of pain, suffering and the workings of intercessory prayer. Yet, I still pray, even when I do not believe in the efficacy of my prayers. I do it, in part, because of my belief in a God that doesn’t stop loving, even when I’m done!
I continue to find myself praying the much-needed prayer, “I believe, Lord. Help me in my unbelief” (Mark 9:24). I pray conversational prayers on long walks with my dog. I sit in silence, inhale and exhale the name of God, thankful for the gift of life, breath, and the appeal to keep loving my family and community. And while I’ve been moved in fury, frustration, confusion, and utter disappointment, I pray in the most helpful posture of them all…
SOLIDARITY!
Prayer—as solidarity—is beyond concepts and moves into practice.
The cross of Jesus is a symbol of great hope because the cross speaks directly to solidarity.
The shared pain we see in Christ is the shared pain we need to see in cancer.
Bottom line: God’s loving embrace is with us in the shit storms of life!
Unlike the infamous immutable, impassible, stale, omnipotent deity, unaffected by peril, we unveil the biblical God, the divine parent that intimately feels the forsakenness within the person of Jesus on the cross. God is moved. God changes and is affected because Jesus suffers, and the Son and the Father are interconnected in life, death, and resurrection. God suffers. God bleeds. God dies. This dynamic, Amipotent deity embraces the fullness of chaotic community, and moves bewildered communities toward compassionate, co-divine tears and relentlessly affectionate unity.
Cancer—like the cross—is theological, and all things that are theological—in my opinion—are tangibly represented in the turmoil of life’s complex situations. Theology only makes sense insofar as one sees it fleshed out on earth. Otherwise, it’s just nauseatingly intellectual stimulation and esoterically driven nonsense (B.S.), which ends up in a worthless manure pile (Rabbi Jesus says something about that!). So, to make sense of theology, one must look at the life, teachings, death, and resurrection of Christ played out by the church.
Why the church?
Well, because the church is the body of Christ, the ones (literally) ”called out” to make a difference in a broken world. The church (not the building or institution, but the people!), looks like Jesus! (Or at least it should.) When the church doesn’t look like Jesus, Christ is basically dead, and the church is solely a museum of bad, religious charades. The plain message of Christ—to his followers—was to take his good-news-looking-message, which was wrapped in a missional way of living—and love the hell out of people. There are many people who need the church to love the hell out of this cancerous world. Yes, start loving the hell out of one another.
Be kind.
Be compassionate.
Overcome evil with good.
Stand together in those painful gaps.
We live in a cynical, Western world that is dying to see Jesus in the flesh. It’s easy to stay cynical, and it’s easy to lose hope. It takes courage to stay rooted in love, and to sit in solidarity with those battling affliction, disease, and heartache!
In fact, I’d venture to say that even Christians are dying to see Jesus in the flesh, and while many of us—professed Christians—are waiting on “God to show up,” I’ve come to realize that this persistently compelling Amipotent God is simply waiting on us to show up. God is already among us, working through us, and the divine spark is residing within each soul.
Jesus says, “Follow me.”
Translation?
“Do what I do.”
What does Jesus look like? Christ crucified—living and dying in solidarity with the world around us: Divine cancer and Amipotent community!
I’ve been hopeful over the years witnessing the church—both Christians and nonChristians—heap blessings of ridiculous love upon dear friends and family struggling with cancer. I’ve seen communities come together in very real, palpable, loving ways! This prayer of solidarity has given me hope! Hope has legs…
We made T-shirts.
We sat and slept at the hospital.
We sent gifts.
We held hands.
We cried mixed tears of abysmal sorrow, unrestrained anger, and joyful remembrance.
We posted hilarious—LAUGH OUT LOUD—pictures on a community Facebook page to keep people’s spirits alive during dark times.
We prayed. (Even in our continuous cycles of unbelief!)
We held hands.
We saw Jesus, and we paradoxically keep seeing the risen Christ through the rugged cross.
Yes, cancer sucks!
But
An Amipotent God rocks!
Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson sheds some light on a biblical Hebrew word that mirrors this vision of an Amipotent God revealed through a faithful community. Artson declares, “It is time to reclaim CHESED, covenantal love, as the imperative of this age.…Chesed is not simply an emotion burnished on the inside, but an emotion that translates into a sustained loving response. Chesed is sometimes translated as “loving-kindness” to indicate this overflow of nurture, support, protection, empathy, and proactive behavior. Chesed is the process of embodied love. Love is as love does.” Chesed is the finest posture of solidarity, a prayer worth its salt, if you will! May we find people along the journey that embody this kind of radical love for the healing of our world. May we become the kind of people that dive deeper into the cancers, diseases, troubles, pains, and ongoing bouts of depression, and in so doing, may we find that Amipotent God who relentlessly loves us through it all!
Bio: Ryan Miller has worked as a Youth & Family Pastor, Campus Pastor, Missions Pastor, & Church Planter. Ryan is the founder and Co-Director of Brew Theology, an interfaith alliance! Ryan is a licensed minister, seminary graduate and enjoys quality beverages, meaningful conversations, and all sports related things. He lives in Texas and loves the Dallas Cowboys! Find him at www.BrewTheology.org.
OORD’S DRABBLE* RESPONSE
Ryan Miller uses the horrors of cancer as a starting point to explore questions about God’s love and power. I appreciate the accessible way Ryan writes, and I fully agree that God never stops loving. I join him in proclaiming the good news of an amipotent God—a God found in scripture to a greater extent than what many realize. Ryan’s emphasis on the church’s role in resisting evil and promoting love is especially important. If God needs creatures to fulfill the mission of love, then the church plays a vital role in that ongoing work of healing, justice, and compassion.
For more on Oord’s view of God’s love and cancer, see this article.
* A drabble is an essay exactly 100 words in length.