September 6th, 2015

I mentioned earlier in this blog that my cancer diagnosis did not shake any world view of mine. I’d like to expound upon that now. As a brief foreword, I do not expect all of you to agree with me, and if you find you disagree with anything I say, by all means don’t change your mind. I am not writing here to convert anyone to my way of thinking, or to belittle ideas that differ from mine. I simply wish to share my beliefs, thoughts, and reflections; take them for whatever they may be worth. I ask only that you read what I have to say and consider it all thoughtfully before dismissing it.

Cancer is not evil. It may shock you that anyone, much less someone like me whose life has been profoundly impacted by the disease, might think that. But I do. Cancer, in my opinion, is no more evil than weather, or mountains, or trees, or anything else that can (and does) kill people. Cancer is simply a part of life on this good earth. Sure, it causes suffering and death. So do storms, avalanches, and falling tree limbs. So far as I am aware, nobody claims that clouds, snowy peaks, or aged trees are inherently evil, no matter the power of the hurricane, the depth of the snow which roars down a slope, or the size of the trunk which crashes down upon a home. It would be bizarre to say a natural process or event has moral value of any kind. Calling cancer evil seems, to me, equally strange. Cancer does not have a conscience. It cannot decide to be good or evil. It merely is.

Ah, but there is a difference, you may say. Weather, mountains, trees...these all can be beautiful or useful, or even both. These can be good! Well, no. Not in a moral sense of the word “good.” They may be to our liking at times, but that does not make them good. Comfort so often lulls us into sins of complacency, and as such I cannot in good conscience call comfort “good,” no matter how much I love being comfortable. By the same token, people may hate cancer, but this does not make it evil. It may bring only suffering and death (though this is not exactly true, but more on that next week). But cell division…that keeps us all alive, and allows us to heal. Not to mention grow hair. And what is cancer if not a hurricane of cell division? Cancer then is no more evil (or good) than any other part of this incredible and dynamic world in which we live. So long as extremes are avoided, nobody complains about weather or cell division. Only when imbalance enters the picture do we grumble.

I see cancer as a messy, ugly, but necessary byproduct of the ever-changing planet we find ourselves inhabiting. In a world of constant flux, where survival depends on constant adaptation, it is extremely fortunate that all living things have the capacity to change. Without that capacity, life on this earth would have ceased long ago, or would at least certainly be in serious jeopardy now as we face the uncertainties of a rapidly changing global climate. That the very blueprints for life—that is, DNA— can and do change, and rather often, makes me immensely grateful to God for having the audacity to create this universe as God did. It is a universe not ruled by an iron fist but guided by a gentle whisper.

If you have never seen The Lego Movie, I apologize for what will be a boring example, and also, spoiler alert! We find near the end of the film that the entire storyline is the product of a child’s imagination. This young boy's father plans to fix his incredible Lego creations in place with Krazy Glue so that his son can no longer play with the Legos and mess everything up. In the end though, the father realizes that Legos are meant to be played with, to be fashioned into something amazing, but only for a time before they are taken apart again. I could take this in a hundred directions, and I sense an Ash Wednesday sermon writing itself here. Building blocks you are, and to building blocks you shall return.

Returning to my point. God could have made a world held together with Krazy Glue, a spectacular world to be sure, but one where change is impossible, where God’s children cannot try to make things better, or fail and mess things up. Sure, it is thanks to a change in the DNA in some cell of mine that I have cancer. Some might say it is not worth the risk of cancer to live in a world with such wondrous capacity for change. It might not be worth having a world where we are free to choose to murder, so that we might also be free to choose to love. I certainly am tempted to think this at times. Thankfully, God is far wiser than we humans, and the world and universe(s) God made are all the more spectacular for their ability to change and adapt, exhibit God's continual creative power and skill, and allow us to work as co-creators with God. If cancer, the product of cell-division gone awry, is a necessary result of such a splendid and dynamic world, that is fine with me.