Hill Road Journal

Religious Commitment in a Pluralistic Society: An Old Testament Perspective

WONG Fook Kong

This essay begins with Brueggemann's observation about the “amazing pluralism” both within and without the Church. I agree with this statement with the qualification that this has been the experience of Asian churches all along. Pluralism both within and without its ranks is not new to Asian churches. When we look at the Old Testament against the background of the ancient Near East, it is evident that ancient Israel also lived in a pluralistic society. Different gods competed for loyalty among the nations. Within Israel too there were different views about YHWH . It is against these competing ideologies that the authors of the Bible affirmed their commitment to worship YHWH as the one and only God. Thus pluralism should not be a reason for abandoning one's commitment to worship YHWH as the one and only God. Rather, it is exactly in face of alternatives and competing claims that one needs to make a firm commitment to worship YHWH.

The Challenge of Religious Pluralism: The Book of Acts as a Test Case

Poling J. Sun

Since the 80s of the last century the issue of plural religiousism has become a challenge to Christian communities. Granted the highly developed connections among nations in this electronic age resulting in conversations and mutual influences, a plurality of cultural and religious phenomena seems inevitable. This is similar to the situation in which the early Christian communities found themselves, addressing and being addressed by a world characterized by cultural inter-penetration. With this in view, this article offers a study of several passages in the Book of Acts, attempting to explore how the early Christian communities encountered their surrounding culture in the course of finding their identity and appropriating their mission.

The Church and Pluralism in the Patristic Period: A Reconsideration of the Progress of Christianization of the Roman Empire during the Time of Constantine

Nathan K. Ng

The reason for the conversion of Constantine has long been a matter of scholarly debate. Traditionally, the emperor is believed to have been converted religiously by the power of Christ. Modern scholarship, however, tends to attribute the conversion to political reason. This article intends to reevaluate the controversial conversion through a reexamination of the progress of christianization of the Roman Empire.

The first section tries to show that the political stature of paganism was actually at that time much higher than the church. It would be very difficult to explain why Constantine chose to become a Christian if, as many modern scholars suggest, political stability was his sole concern. On this foundation, the second section argues that the emperor's bias towards Christianity was at least partially religious. Putting all evidences into consideration, a proposal of the spiritual journey of Constantine is tentatively reconstructed at the end of the discussion.

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Fook-kong Wong

Associate Dean (Academic), Old Testament Professor

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Why did disaster strike?

When unfortunate events occur, many people ask, "Why?" In fact, many times, the direct causes of these events are things we already know. According to data from the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, a total of 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19.¹ The Tai Po fire, which occurred closer to us, has an official death toll of 168. Both disasters have had a profound impact on the people of Hong Kong, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic is caused by the novel coronavirus SARS-CoV-2, while the Tai Po fire has had multiple causes identified, none of which are mysterious or incomprehensible.

So why do we still ask "why" even when we know the direct cause of a disaster? It's probably because we not only want to know the cause of the calamity, but also yearn to understand its deeper meaning. In other words,We want to know why God allowed—or even facilitated—the disaster to happen.In the Bible, God conveys His will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams, and He also reveals Himself to humanity, personally delivering His word without ambiguity. However, these events are beyond human control—this is true in the Bible, and even more so today. Therefore, we cannot expect explanations for the current calamities from these means.

However, our existing Bible, an easily accessible and authoritative source, offers many explanations for why calamities occur. Reasons include attacks by evil spirits (e.g., Job), human sinfulness (e.g., Judges 19-21), foolish decisions by those involved (Proverbs 10:14, 14:16), and God's judgment (Deuteronomy 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 points out that life-threatening calamities (the original text reads "evil times") can suddenly befall anyone without warning; that is to say, in this fallen world, disaster is the norm and requires little explanation. From a more positive perspective, God may allow certain calamities to occur to teach or train us in righteousness (Deuteronomy 8:1-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7), or as part of our calling to suffer for the Kingdom of God (Matthew 5:10-12). These are all reasonable answers, but...The problem is that we may not be able to discern which is the correct answer for a given situation.Even if we think we understand, we might be wrong. Job's friend was like that; he thought he knew the answer, but he was mistaken.

Exploring the meaning of disaster

　　I believe that when exploring the meaning of a disaster, we should first investigate its direct causes, because that may be where the meaning lies.For example, if someone commits a crime, breaks the law, or does something foolish, bringing misfortune upon themselves (even harming others), they should repent for their sins, transgressions, or foolishness, without seeking deeper meaning. This is crucial to preventing a recurrence of such disasters. But...If the direct cause is unclear, forcing an explanation will be counterproductive.This will not help prevent a recurrence of the disaster. Moreover, blaming innocent people for the mistake is unfair.

At this point, we must revisit Job's friends. Their theological viewpoint was not flawed—God rewards those who obey His word and punishes those who disobey—a concept found in the Bible (e.g., Deuteronomy 28; Judges 3:7-8). However, their error lay in applying this theological viewpoint to Job. Errors in application are harder to correct than errors in interpretation because they involve subjective judgment. While the Bible offers many explanations for calamities and suffering, determining which explanation (if any) is correct for a given situation is not easy. As Hans-Georg Gadamer quotes Immanuel Kant, "There are no rules governing the rational application of rules."² We have no other Bible to teach us how to use it. This reminds us:Even if the interpretation is correct, errors may still occur when applying it.Therefore, studying the Bible involves not only historical information, grammatical analysis, and theological knowledge, but also the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the ability to discern so that the truth can be correctly applied to life.

Another way to deal with it

Faced with disaster, Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth adopted a different approach. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain why Naomi had lost her husband and two sons, but instead chose to accompany her back to Bethlehem and take good care of her. Similarly, Boaz did not try to explain why the tragedy had befallen Naomi and Ruth, but instead helped them obtain food, and later became their kinsman redeemer. Our inability to explain disasters does not mean we are powerless. On the contrary, we can still do many practical things to help those affected.

So, should we explore the deeper meaning of disasters? I think for most people, this means what spiritual lessons can be learned from them. This involves subjective understanding. Even if we haven't personally experienced a disaster, we can still learn spiritual lessons from it; if we have, it goes without saying. However, if we're referring to another level—whether we can discern God's will in a disaster—then we should be cautious. For example, is God punishing the world through the coronavirus because this generation is wicked? Or is it a sign of the pains before Christ's second coming (Mark 13:8)? Both are possible, but we cannot be certain. Therefore, we should not teach these interpretations as absolute truth. Rather than offering uncertain explanations, we should earnestly follow the teaching of Deuteronomy 29:29: "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed things belong to us and our children forever, that we may do everything that is said in this law." Similarly,God may allow or cause calamities to occur, and the purpose behind it may be hidden; but His commandment for us to help those in need is clearly revealed..

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¹ “Number of COVID-19 deaths reported to WHO” [Online source]; taken from the World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); viewed on February 13, 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Experiencing God's Love

Growing up in a Christian primary school, I regularly listened to teachers explain the Bible. From that time on, I had a simple faith in God and obeyed Him. Later, someone invited me to attend church worship services, which marked the beginning of my church life. However, at that time, I only participated in worship services, and since I subsequently studied abroad for many years, my connection with the church remained distant.

In October 2016, I returned to Hong Kong after graduating from a university, and shortly after, my grandfather passed away. I felt deeply saddened, but when the pastor expressed the church's condolences and care to me, I suddenly felt God's love, which stirred in me a desire to respond and seek Him further. Thereafter, I joined the church fellowship and genuinely experienced the love of brothers and sisters in Christ, joining them in the pursuit of spiritual growth.

Awakening My Heart for Missions

At the end of 2018, two brothers invited me to serve with them in Myanmar. This experience opened my eyes, deepening my understanding of faith and enriching my spiritual life. It also planted a blossoming desire in my heart for the Great Commission of spreading the gospel.

Praise be to the Lord for, after several years, my passion remained unfading, and I constantly kept the ministry of the Abundant Life Church in Myanmar in my thoughts and prayers. In the summer of 2023, I visited the area for the third time. In addition to meeting with co-workers, children, and other brothers and sisters, I took the opportunity to check the condition of the library which had been previously established. I also participated in the expansion project of that church.

Whether then or now, the situation in Myanmar remains heartbreaking. Since the military reclaimed power, the nation has been engulfed in endless warfare, leaving its people displaced and suffering. Hospitals lack doctors, schools lack teachers, and hope has vanished from the eyes of the people—alas! When I returned to the Abundant Life Church, my heart was often stirred, and I was moved to tears. I saw so many people in dire need, longing for blessings. The church's organ electronic had never worked properly; the girls' dormitory did not have a single fan, making summer nights unbearably hot and sleepless. Upon learning this, I immediately went to purchase fans, hoping that these young people could live a little better. Though such help may seem very limited in scope, I felt that it was important to do whatever I could to help.

Later, the children's pure hearts touched me yet again. They were filled with eagerness to understand Chinese literature, so I helped guide them through Su Dongpo's “Water Melody” and Li Houzhu's “Lady Yu.” Seeing their faces light up with satisfaction made the discomfort from the heat at night feel worthwhile. Their excitement reminded me to keep a pure and simple heart every day and led me to reflect that God values our innermost beings most. heart to follow the Lord?

While there, I also visited several impoverished families. Though destitute and living in conditions unfit for habitation by Hong Kong standards, they sang hymns and worshiped God from the depths of their hearts that evening. This sight moved me to tears. Additionally, I visited a newly established primary school in the rural outskirts. Despite being church-run, it even had young monks attending classes. I pray the Lord to bestow His grace upon that land and lead more teachers to come and teach them.

The multitude of ministries there is beyond counting, making me keenly aware that the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. After returning to Hong Kong that time, I visited various churches to share my experiences and insights, hoping that more brothers and sisters in Christ would learn about the Abundant Life Church, so they may give offerings generously, pray persistently, and work together to bless the churches in Myanmar.

Embracing the Missionary Vision

Through the ministry in Myanmar, God has given me a vision for mission. May God grant me His heart for the needy and persecuted. Let me not only worship Him sincerely but also lead all nations and peoples to know Him. Even if a lifetime of mission yields only a small harvest, how wonderful it would be if it could bring us, His creation, into fellowship with the Triune Creator, singing praises to Him with joyful voices!

On August 9, 2024, I turned thirty. I am grateful that I was in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, at that time, participating in a mission trip. Under the guidance of the Rev. Eric Wing-mun Tong and the Rev. Chi-kwong Chung, I was inspired to reflect on the idea of “establishing oneself at thirty”: First, I asked myself, “Why does the Lord give me all these gifts?” Then, I asked myself, “Why have I not girded my loins and set out, now that my youth is past? Why wait until old age overtakes me?” Thus, I resolved to answer God's call, enter the seminary for training, and aspire to be used by Him.

Lord, though I am weak and inadequate, I ask for Your grace and love. Send me forth and use me. I desire to follow You all my life! Amen!

Tai Po Hung Fook Court Fire

Tai Po Hung Fook Court Fire

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Daniel Lam

Assistant Professor,
New Testament

林天祐

Assistant Professor of New Testament

Revisiting Pneumatology in Paul's Writings

The Apostle Paul wrote the Greek word πνεῦμα (pronounced pneuma / spiritWhen the word "spirit" is used, what does it refer to? For most modern readers, the answer seems very simple: the human spirit or the Holy Spirit, the latter being the third person of the Trinity, a divine agent of comfort, conviction, and power. We naturally recall this theological interpretation as if it were the obvious answer; readers and translators alike understand it almost instinctively.However, in recent years, some have questioned whether πνεῦμα should be translated as "spirit." This article aims to explore these objections and investigate alternative ways to translate the word πνεῦμα.

Academic research on this issue has historically shown tension between theological and historical approaches. In the early twentieth century, Hermann Gunkel proposed a dichotomy that separated pneumathe from its Old Testament and Hellenistic Jewish roots, placing it within a framework of supernatural versus natural dualism. This had a profound impact, as this framework was further developed by giants such as Rudolf Bultmann and Ernst Käsemann. Their interpretations, strongly characteristic of Lutheran theology, solidified a "spiritual" interpretive method that emphasized inner subjective religious experience. In this school of thought, spirit became synonymous with the inner life of faith, often neglecting its cosmic and material dimensions.

Important revisions appeared at the end of the 20th century, with scholars insisting on adopting a more historically grounded “physicalist” interpretation.Dell Martin(Dale Martin)'s work *The Corinthian Body*The Corinthian Body, 1995) was groundbreaking, clarifying how Paul's audience understood the body and spirit from a holistic ancient cosmological perspective in which the material and spiritual were intertwined. Subsequently,Eneberg-Pedersen(Troels Engberg-Pedersen) in *Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul*Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul, (2010) argues that interpreting Paul's "pneuma" from a Stoic perspective reveals it as an intelligent "spirit" in the cosmos, which constitutes and unites all things. These studies mark a significant shift, with scholars beginning to seriously consider Paul's materialist outlook. This entails setting aside "post-Cartesian" notions that view "spirit" as non-material personal feeling, and instead embracing an ancient understanding of substance, seeing pneuma as substantial matter. For these scholars, the key to recovering this interpretation is Stoic philosophy, as it was the dominant intellectual system in Paul's Greco-Roman world.

Pneuma -- the Stoic concept of matter?

For Stoicism, pneuma is not the soul or a non-material entity, but a cosmic life force, a mixture of air and fire, which is intelligent, permeates all things, and constitutes the entire universe. It is the tension of a rope, the growth of a plant, human rational thought, and the substance of stars. This pneuma is both divine and rational, and entirely material. It forms the hierarchy of being, from the heavy, solid rock to the ephemeral gods, with no insurmountable chasm between the material and the divine.

Enberg-Pedersen argues that Paul's audience, whether Jewish or Gentile, were immersed in this intellectual atmosphere. When Paul spoke of pneuma, they thought of this universal, life-giving substance. Therefore,Translating "pneuma" as the incorporeal "Holy Spirit" is an anachronism, introducing the modern concept of mind-body dualism into the scripture; this is an unfamiliar idea to Paul.To correctly interpret Paul's view, Enberg-Pedersen argues that we must take his terminology regarding substance literally: pneuma is a thing that can be poured, drunk, and infused; it is a tangible reality that can transform believers from the inside out.

　　Viewing pneuma through the lens of Stoic materialism will completely reshape how we interpret familiar scriptures.First look1 Corinthians 15:44-45How does Paul discuss the resurrected body? Here Paul contrasts the deceased "soul body" (σῶμα ψυχικόν) with the resurrected "spirit body" (σῶμα πνευματικόν), ultimately with the stunning declaration: the resurrected Christ has become the "life-giving pneuma" (KJV: "quickening spirit"). Traditional interpretations understand the "spirit body" as a glorious, incorruptible body, guided by the Holy Spirit, with Christ either possessing or being accompanied by the Holy Spirit. However, Engeberg-Pedersen offers a new perspective, linking these two verses to Paul's discussion of celestial bodies like the sun and moon in verses 40-41 of the same chapter. He argues that for Paul, the "spirit body" is actually composed of "pneuma-stuff" (spirit-stuff) composed body, which is akin to the Stoic understanding of stars, as they believed stars were made of such pure, divine matter. Therefore, Christ, as the "last Adam," not only received the Holy Spirit, but His resurrected form *is* pneuma. He becomes the source of that life-giving substance, which will ultimately reconstruct the bodies of believers. In this interpretation, resurrection is not merely the restoration of life, but the transformation of the flesh into an entirely new mode of existence, one belonging to the system of pneuma.

The second example isRomans chapter 5, verse 5For the Spirit given to us, Paul wrote,spirit"God's love has been poured into our hearts." (Union Version) Traditional interpretations view this phrase as a beautiful metaphor, describing the Holy Spirit's assurance of our inner emotions, indicating that we have received God's love. However, a materialistic interpretation reveals a more direct meaning. According to the ancient medical theory of "Pneumatism," pneuma is an external substance that enters the body through respiration, is processed by the heart, and then transported throughout the body by the arteries, regulating a person's thoughts and actions. When Paul says that the pneuma is "poured into our hearts," he may be describing a real physiological process: divine pneuma is substantially injected into the central core of believers' hearts, physically changing their constitution, enabling them to act according to God's love. From this perspective, this transformation involves both cognition and body, a complete internal and external transformation of the entire person.

Counter-argument: Two Critiques

Although this viewpoint is gaining increasing attention, its materialist discourse has been criticized by other leading scholars. John Barclay and John Levison have precisely pointed out the tension in Engeberg-Pedersen's viewpoint.

　　BarclayIt is pointed out that while Engberg-Pedersen's theory is philosophically precise and rigorous, it overlooks the core of Paul's theology: the radical, transformative newness brought about by the Christ event. For Paul, pneuma is not a pre-existing cosmic substance merely transmitted from heaven to earth; it is the eschatological reality unleashed by Christ's resurrection, an unprecedented "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17). Regarding 1 Corinthians 15, Barclay refutes the interpretation that explicitly claims "celestial bodies" such as the sun, moon, and stars are "spiritual / composed of pneuma." He argues that Paul's emphasis is on God's power to give each thing its own form, rather than delineating a Stoic hierarchy of nature.scale of naturein other words, the hierarchy of being). The "life-giving pneuma" mentioned in Section 45 refers to the power of resurrection, not a higher cosmic substance. Barclay warned that simplifying it to Stoic physics would be tantamount to reducing the resurrection to a "recomposition of existing cosmic elements."

However, it is important not to impose modern concepts of the duality of "spirit and matter" onto Paul. Therefore, using a transliteration ("pneuma") when translating πνεῦμα can be a means for us to temporarily set aside our own theological presuppositions and listen to the original meaning of Paul's words. By using this method, we can see that Paul used the term that best expressed transformative power at the time – a divine, life-transforming substance – to describe new life in Christ. We do not need to assert that Paul was a Stoic or view pneuma as "merely" a medical "spirit." This merely shows that Paul used this conceptual framework to articulate the ineffable "newness" that Barclay sought to uphold. This "newness" lies in God's redemptive work accomplished in Christ; however, its description used the materialistic concepts of the first century.

　　Levisonthen agrees that *pneuma* has substantial dimensions, but criticizes Enberg-Pedersen for selectively, and sometimes even artificially, employing Stoic methods, while neglecting the richer corresponding elements in Paul's Jewish tradition. He raises two specific concerns: First, the Stoic examples cited by Enberg-Pedersen, such as cosmic conflagration (*ekpyrosis*) or Cicero’s essays on divination, do not powerfully explain the continuing transformative work of *pneuma* on believers. In fact, according to the Stoic descriptions of inspiration, such as those relating the oracles at Delphi, *pneuma* is depicted as terrestrial vapor or breeze, not as a substance that flows in speech during sermons. Second, and more crucially, Enberg-Pedersen rarely touches upon Jewish texts, where *pneuma* is described as both substantial and perceptible. He offers examples: the "spirit" that came upon the elders, enabling them to govern the people (Num 11:25); the "excellent spirit" that gave understanding to Daniel (Dan 5:12); and the "spirit" that compelled Elihu to utter words of wisdom (Job 32:18-20). The Dead Sea Scrolls also depict a community transformed by spirit and granted knowledge. For Levison, these Jewish thought systems, rather than abstract Stoic physics, are more likely and more direct primary backgrounds for Paul's thinking.

Let's temporarily set aside Lévison's dichotomy that incorrectly separates Judaism from the Greco-Roman world (see Martin Hengel's *Judaism and Hellenism*)., Judaism and Hellenism)), the work's argument that Jews could not separate Judaism from their surrounding culture has become an academic consensus. Nevertheless, we can still consider Levison's concerns while retaining the insights of the material view. After all, medicine was a common cultural language throughout the Hellenistic world, including Judea. Hellenistic Jews like Paul could easily translate Jewish conceptsspirit(the King James Version translates this as "spirit", referring to God's powerful, life-giving breath), in contrast with the contemporary medical world's view of pneuma (spirit, or translated as "qi"), the understanding of spirit as a life-giving, embodied substance, are fused together. Therefore, if one adopts the "medical" view of *pneuma*, it is not a choice of "Greek culture" over "Jewish culture," but rather an indication of a circulating common knowledge through which Jewish theological concepts can be understood in physical terms. This can respond to Levison's criticism and provide a satisfactory answer:The materiality of pneuma in Paul's writings may not necessarily originate solely from Stoic philosophy, but could also stem from a fusion of Jewish theology and the widely popular biomedical concepts of the ancient Mediterranean world.— This is no different from Philo's practice in his writings.

Overview: What is crucial?

Here we must acknowledge that the term "pneuma" can indeed carry Stoic connotations. Enberg-Pedersen correctly observes that for Paul's first-century audience, the term evoked a substantial, cosmic, life-giving substance. However, we must also note the limitations of Enberg-Pedersen's argument: the pneuma in Paul's letters is by no means merely the cosmic substance described by the Stoics. Some passages explicitly describe pneuma as performing personal actions: the pneuma "intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (Rom 8:26); it "distributes to each individually as it wills" (1 Cor 12:11); it can be "grieved" (Eph 4:30). These are actions that a purely substantial "substance" cannot perform; this implies that pneuma is a person with emotions, will, and the capacity for relationship with others. Reducing pneuma to a purely Stoic substance ignores this crucial personal dimension in Paul's theology.

Therefore, we need to refine, rather than fully accept, Enberg-Pedersen's argument. He correctly reminds us to pay attention to the material aspect of *pneuma*, but his interpretation overemphasizes its continuity with Stoicism, failing to adequately consider the personal qualities of *pneuma* as described by Paul and the radical newness brought about by the Christ event. For the careful reader, the path to the most thorough understanding may lie in holding this tension: acknowledging that *pneuma* has material implications in its ancient context, while at the same time recognizing its personal role in Paul's letters.

Take this debate seriously

It must be clarified here that to benefit from this discussion, we do not need to fully accept Enberg-Pedersen's argument, nor do we need to assert that Paul was a Stoic (in fact, Enberg-Pedersen never demanded this). As Christians, if we value God's word (in this instance, what Paul actually said), we must remain open to the possibility that our understanding of pneuma may be insufficient and require correction or deepening. Enberg-Pedersen's argument may not be entirely correct, but he raises a question worthy of serious consideration:Does modern cultural presupposition cause us to overlook certain aspects that Paul originally intended to convey?

When translating "pneuma," using transliteration can be a means to help us take this issue seriously. This does not force us to accept any particular conclusion, but rather creates a space where we can pause and ask, "What exactly does Paul mean by 'pneuma' here?" This questioning attitude is precisely what it means to strive for greater faithfulness to the Bible, acknowledging that God's revelation may be richer and deeper than we understand, and allowing the biblical text to challenge us rather than simply confirming what we already think we know.

It is worth noting that using transliteration when translating *pneuma* in the Pauline epistles is particularly compelling. This is because we can quite specifically identify Paul's audience (Jewish and Gentile communities in the Greco-Roman world of the first century) and the historical context in which he wrote (a period when Stoicism and medical theories were prevalent). In this specific historical context, Paul's audience had a much closer understanding of the rich cultural connotations of *pneuma* than modern readers.Therefore, at least for Paul's epistles, translating using a transliteration ("pneuma") instead of an interpretation as "spirit" can help us avoid anachronisms and more faithfully grasp what Paul intended to convey.

Summarize

Ultimately, when translating *pneuma*, choosing transliteration is not an act of laziness or an evasion of the translator's duty; rather, it is an expression of greater faithfulness to the original text. This inspires us to continue exploring, allowing Paul himself to illuminate the true meaning of *pneuma* for us. Through this process of exploration, we not only come to know Paul more deeply but also come to know more deeply the God who speaks to people through him.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Rethinking Pneuma in Paul

When the Apostle Paul wrote πνεῦμα, what did he have in mind? For most modern readers, the answer seems straightforward: human or holy spirit, that is, the Third Person of the Trinity, a divine agent of comfort, conviction, and power. This theological reading is so natural that it feels obvious, and it is almost instinctive to readers and translators. But recently, this translation has been challenged. This article seeks to discuss what those objections are and explore the possibility of translating πνεῦμα differently.

The history of modern scholarship shows a persistent tension between theological and historical approaches. In the early 20th century, Hermann Gunkel proposed dichotomies that separated Pauline spirit from its Old Testament and Hellenistic Jewish roots and framed it as “supernatural” versus natural. This move proved to be influential as this framework was adopted by important figures like Rudolf Bultmann and Ernst Käsemann, whose deeply Lutheran readings further solidified a “spiritualizing” interpretation that prioritized inner, subjective religious experience. In this stream of scholarship, spirit became synonymous with the inner life of faith, often at the expense of its cosmic and corporeal dimensions.

At the end of the 20th century, a significant corrective emerged, with scholars who insisted on a more historically grounded, “physicalist” reading. Dale Martin's The Corinthian Body (1995) was groundbreaking, showing how Paul’s audience understood bodies and spirits within a holistic ancient cosmology where the physical and spiritual were intertwined. Troels Engberg-Pedersen then argued in Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul (2010) for reading Pauline spirit through a Stoic lens, as the cosmic, intelligent “breath” that constitutes and unifies all matter. These works represent a major shift, taking Paul's materialism seriously. This means setting aside our post-Cartesian idea of “spirit” as a non-material, private feeling, and recovering the ancient, concrete understanding of spirit as a physical substance. For these scholars, the most helpful key to this recovery is Stoic philosophy, the dominant intellectual framework of Paul's Greco-Roman world.

Why a Stoic, Material Pneuma?

For the Stoics, spirit is not a ghost or immaterial being. It is the cosmic life-force, an intelligent mixture of air and fire that permeates and structures the universe. It is the tension in a rope, the growth in a plant, the rational mind of a human, and the substance of the stars. spirit is divine, rational, and utterly material. It constitutes a hierarchy of being, from dense rocks to rarified gods, with no unbridgeable chasm between the physical and the divine.

Engberg-Pedersen argues that Paul's audiences—Jew and Gentile alike—breathed this intellectual air. When Paul spoke of spirit, they would have heard echoes of this cosmic, animating substance. The automatic translation of pneuma as a disembodied “Spirit” is therefore an anachronism, importing a modern mind/body dualism that would have been foreign to Paul. To read him correctly, Engberg-Pedersen contends, we must take his physical language literally: spirit is a stuff that can be poured, drunk, and infused; it transforms the believer from the inside out via a tangible, physiological reality.

　　Viewing pneuma through this Stoic, materialist lens dramatically reshapes how we read familiar passages. Consider first Paul’s discussion of the resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15:44-45. Here Paul contrasts the “natural body” (σῶμα ψυχικόν) sown in death with the “spiritual body” (σῶμα πνευματικόν) raised in life, culminating in his striking declaration that the risen Christ became a “life-giving spirit." The conventional reading understands the "spiritual body" as a glorified, immortal body oriented by the Holy Spirit, with Christ either possessing the Spirit or being accompanied by him. But Engberg-Pedersen offers a different perspective by connecting this passage to Paul's earlier mention of heavenly bodies like the sun and moon in 1 Corinthians 15:40-41. He argues that for Paul, a σῶμα πνευματικόν is a body actually made of spirit-stuff, analogous to the Stoic understanding of stars as composed of this refined, divine substance. Thus Christ, as the “last Adam,” has not merely received the Spirit; rather, his resurrected mode of existence is spirit itself. He becomes the source of that life-giving, material substance that will ultimately reconstitute believers. In this reading, resurrection is not merely a restoration of life but a physical transformation into an entirely new, pneumatic order of being.

A second example comes from Romans 5:5, where Paul writes that “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (spirit) who has been given to us” (NIV). The conventional reading takes this as a beautiful metaphor for the internal, emotional assurance of God's love provided by the Holy Spirit. But the materialist reading reveals something more literal. Following ancient medical theories known as Pneumatism, pneuma was understood as an external substance drawn into the body through breathing, processed by the heart, and then channeled through the arteries to govern thoughts and actions. When Paul speaks of spirit being “poured into our hearts,” he may be describing an actual physiological process: the divine spirit is literally infused into the cardiac center of the believer, physically altering his/her constitution and enabling him/her to act in accordance with God's love. The change, in this view, is simultaneously cognitive and corporeal—a transformation of the whole person, inside and out.

Scholarly Pushback: Two Major Critiques

While this view is gaining momentum, this materialist thesis has faced criticism from other leading scholars. John Barclay and John Levison pinpoint two major tensions in Engberg-Pedersen's proposal.

　　Barclay argues that Engberg-Pedersen’s model, for all its philosophical precision, misses the core of Paul’s theology: the radical, disruptive newness of the Christ event. For Paul, the spirit is not a pre-existing cosmic substance simply transferred from heaven to earth. It is an unprecedented, eschatological entity unleashed by Christ’s resurrection, a “new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). Regarding 1 Corinthians 15, Barclay disputes the claim that “heavenly bodies” such as the sun, moon, and stars are explicitly called “pneumatic.” Paul’s point, he contends, is God’s power to give each its own kind of body, not to outline a Stoic scala naturae or hierarchy of being. The “life-giving spirit” in verse 45 is the power of resurrection itself, not a higher-grade cosmic material. To reduce it to Stoic physics, Barclay warns, is to turn the resurrection into a mere “reordering of already-existing cosmic elements.”

However, it is important to avoid imposing modern, dualist categories of “spiritual vs. material” onto Paul altogether. As such, to transliterate spirit is precisely a tool to suspend our theological assumptions long enough to hear Paul on his own terms. Using this tool, we can see that Paul describes the new life in Christ using the best available language of his day for a transformative power, namely, the language of a divine, life-altering substance. This does not require us to claim that Paul was a Stoic or that the spirit is “just” medical spirit. It simply asserts that this was the conceptual tool Paul employed to articulate the very ineffable newness that Barclay wants to protect. The “newness” resides in the salvific action of God in Christ; the mechanism of description, however, is the contemporary materialist framework of the first-century world.

　　Levison, For his part, he agrees that spirit has a concrete dimension but charges Engberg-Pedersen with a selective and sometimes strained use of Stoicism, while neglecting the richer parallels in Paul's Jewish heritage. He raises two specific concerns. First, the Stoic models Engberg-Pedersen employs, such as the cosmic conflagration (ἔκπυρωσις) or a passing comment from Cicero on divination, do not convincingly explain the ongoing, transformative work of spirit in believers. Meanwhile, actual Stoic accounts of inspiration, such as those describing the oracle at Delphi, portray spirit as a terrestrial vapor or breeze, not as a substance flowing through preached words. Second, and more centrally, Levison points to the dearth of engagement with Jewish texts where spirit is also depicted as both concrete and cognitive. He cites the “spirit” placed upon the elders to govern (Nm 11:25), the “excellent spirit” of wisdom in Daniel (Dn 5:12), and the spirit that besieges Elihu, forcing out wise speech (Jb 32:18-20). The Dead Sea Scrolls, too, present a transformed community and granted knowledge by the spirit. For Levison, this Jewish matrix provides a more direct and likely foreground for Paul's thinking than an abstracted Stoic physics.

Setting aside Levison's misguided dichotomy of Judaism and the Greco-Roman world (see Hengel's Judaism and Hellenism, which has become a scholarly consensus; one cannot separate Judaism from its surrounding culture), there is a way to honor Levison's concerns while retaining materialist insight. Medicine, after all, was a shared cultural vernacular across the Hellenistic world, including Judea. A Hellenistic Jew like Paul could easily integrate the Jewish concept of spirit (understood as God's powerful, life-giving breath) with contemporary medical understandings of spirit as an animating bodily substance. To argue for a “medical” spirit, then, is not to choose “Greek” over “Jewish.” Rather, it is to identify the common intellectual currency through which Jewish theological concepts could be understood in physical terms. This provides a more satisfying answer to Levison's critique: the physicality of pneuma in Paul needs not come exclusively from Stoic philosophy. It could just as plausibly emerge from the synthesis of Jewish theology and the widespread biomedical concepts that permeated the ancient Mediterranean world, not dissimilar from what Philo did in his work.

Synthesis: What is at Stake?

Here we must acknowledge that spirit may indeed carry Stoic connotations. Engberg-Pedersen correctly observes that for Paul's first-century audience, the word spirit would have evoked a material, cosmic, life-giving substance. Yet we must also attend to the limits of Engberg-Pedersen's argument. spirit in Paul's letters is not merely Stoic cosmic matter. Certain passages attribute unmistakably personal actions to spirit: it “intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Rom 8:26 NABS); it “apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Cor 12:11 ESV); it can be “grieved” (Eph 4:30). These are not things that a mere material “substance” can do; they imply a person with emotions, will, and relational capacity. spirit Entirely to Stoic matter is to miss this crucial personal dimension in Paul's theology.

Thus, Engberg-Pedersen's thesis requires correction, not wholesale acceptance. He rightly alerts us to the material dimension of spirit, but his model overemphasizes Stoic continuity and fails to fully account for the personhood Paul attributes to spirit and the radical newness introduced by the Christ event. For careful readers, the path to the richest understanding may lie precisely in holding this tension: recognizing the concrete, material connotations of spirit in its ancient context while also acknowledging its personal role in Paul's letters.

Taking the Debate Seriously

An important clarification is necessary here: we need not fully accept Engberg-Pedersen's thesis, nor must we claim that Paul was a Stoic, in order to benefit from this discussion (in fact, Engberg-Pedersen never made such a claim). As Christians, if we care about God's word, in this case what Paul actually said, we must remain open to the possibility that our understanding of spirit may be incomplete and need correction or enrichment. Engberg-Pedersen's argument may not be entirely correct, but he has raised a question worth taking seriously: Have our modern cultural assumptions caused us to miss certain dimensions of what Paul originally intended to communicate?

Transliterating spirit is precisely the tool that helps us take this question seriously. It does not force us to accept any particular conclusion, but rather creates a space where we can pause and ask: “What did Paul mean when he used the word spirit here?" This questioning is an act of greater faithfulness to Scripture. It acknowledges that God's revelation may be richer and deeper than we have yet understood, and it allows the biblical text to challenge us rather than merely confirming what we already think we know.

It is worth noting that this practice of transliterating pneuma is particularly compelling in the case of Paul's letters. This is because we can identify with reasonable specificity both Paul's audience (communities of Jews and Gentiles in the first-century Greco-Roman world) and his historical context (a period when Stoicism and medical theories were prevalent). In this particular historical setting, Paul's listeners would have understood spirit in ways far closer to the word's rich cultural connotations than modern readers do. Therefore, at least in the case of Paul's letters, using the transliteration pneuma rather than translating it as “Spirit” can better help us avoid anachronism and more faithfully hear what Paul intended to communicate.

Conclusion

In the end, transliterating spirit is not an act of laziness or an evasion of the translator's task. It is an expression of deeper faithfulness to the text. It invites us into an ongoing exploration, allowing Paul himself to tell us what his spirit truly means. In the course of this exploration, we come to know better not only Paul but also the God who spoke through him.

Chi-yeung Lam

Assistant Professor, Christian Education

藍志揚

Assistant Professor of Christian Education

God beyond "presupposition"

What do Martha and Mary need?

John chapter 11 recounts the miracle of Lazarus' resurrection. The text states that when Jesus and his disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had been buried for four days, and relatives and friends from all over had come to offer their condolences. Martha, hearing of Jesus' arrival, rushed out of the village to meet him; when Mary saw Jesus, she fell at his feet and wept, saying, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." This echoed Martha's earlier words, expressing regret over Jesus' "late" arrival.

Martha and Mary firmly believed that Jesus could heal the seriously ill, but their understanding was limited to a "limited resurrection." They never considered that Jesus could raise someone who had been dead for four days, even decomposing, before the end of the world. They imposed a time limit on Jesus, believing that it was only possible "earlier," and that "now" was too late. This kind of thinking limited Jesus' abilities to some extent.

Martha and Mary were not unaware of the resurrection stories. In the Old Testament, Elijah and Elisha both raised the dead; in the New Testament, Jesus raised Jairus' daughter and the widow's son from the dead. As Jesus' close friends, they should have known that Jesus possessed the power to transcend death. However, when suffering befell their own family, they fell into negative thinking, believing that "late" meant "impossible and irreversible." This reaction is indeed a common human experience. Perhaps, in our own difficulties, we too have set limits for God: "If only it had been sooner..." or "If only then..." These thoughts often stem from certain preconceived notions we hold about God.

Fellowship and Cultivating Resilience

Lazarus was miraculously resurrected, but this miracle is, after all, an exception. In real life, most people still have to face the long years after the death of loved ones and how to continue living in grief.

The "Socioemotional Selection Theory" suggests that individuals who experience significant life events (such as pandemics or disasters) may undergo a marked shift in mindset: they begin to focus their lives on behaviors that are emotionally meaningful, and tend to interact more with close family and friends. This selective social pattern, while seemingly shrinking one's social circle, actually strengthens the quality and depth of emotional support. This view aligns with the experiences of faith-based communities.A deep fellowship is essential for building psychological resilience. When we go beyond superficial pleasantries in church and establish genuine connections between lives, this support system can become our refuge in the storms of life.

Prayer and Life Resilience

A six-year follow-up study of chronic disease patients in the United States has revealed a link between prayer and resilience.^* After controlling for multiple variables, the study found that patients who prayed daily had a significantly higher survival rate six years later than those who did not pray regularly. While the exact mechanisms still require further investigation, researchers infer that the "sense of hope" derived from prayer is a key factor. When believers consistently entrust things beyond their control (such as their illness) to God in prayer, this repeated affirmation and surrender brings peace and release to the soul. Physiologically, this helps reduce the release of stress hormones and mitigate their negative impact on health. This reminds us that prayer is not only a spiritual exercise but also the foundation of holistic health.In prayer, we acknowledge our limitations while simultaneously experiencing God's infinity and presence.

Eye movement therapy

Besides fellowship and prayer, modern psychology offers practical methods for building emotional resilience, such as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). Twenty years ago, discussing EMDR might have been misunderstood, as the therapist's fingers moved from side to side in front of the patient's eyes, resembling a folk religious ritual. However, the origin of this therapy is actually very relatable: its founder, Francine Shapiro, discovered while walking in a park that her negative emotions significantly decreased when her eyes moved rhythmically left and right following the scenery. She then conducted years of clinical trials, and this treatment method gradually gained acceptance in the medical community. This offers a practical insight: when you find yourself caught in negative emotions, even overwhelmed by grief like Martha and Mary, try following Shapiro's example—take a walk in a park and let your eyes naturally move left and right, looking at the scenery around you. This simple action should help alleviate emotions. (Of course, if you find your emotional problems worsening, be sure to seek professional medical or psychological counseling.)

The term "resilience" has garnered significant attention in recent years, and it's been hailed as a key word for 2025 in mainland China. This reflects the anxiety and unease many people experience in uncertain external environments, which can even impact their personal lives and group collaborations. Deep down, we all yearn to be independent of our circumstances and continue moving forward. Looking back at the story of Lazarus, Martha and Mary witnessed miracles beyond their wildest imaginations.May we build resilience in body, mind, and spirit through fellowship and the practice of personal prayer.

____________________________________________

^* Gail Ironson and Salman Shaheen Ahmad, “Frequency of Private Prayer Predicts Survival Over 6 Years in a Nationwide US Sample of Individuals with a Chronic Illness,” Journal of Religion and Health 63.4 (August 2024): 2910-2923 [Online article]; taken from Springer Nature Link webpage (https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-023-01870-z); accessed on March 1, 2026.

God is beyond Our “Assumptions”

What did Martha and Mary need?

John 11 records the miracle of Lazarus' resurrection. By the time Jesus and His disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days, and relatives and friends had gathered to offer their condolences. When Martha heard of Jesus' coming, she hurried out of the village to meet Him. When Mary saw Jesus, she fell at His feet and wept, saying, "Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died." These words echoed Martha's earlier statement, expressing sorrow over what seemed to be Jesus' ’delayed arrival.’

Martha and Mary were convinced that Jesus could heal serious illnesses, though their understanding of resurrection was limited. They never imagined that Jesus could raise someone before the last day, even one who had been dead for four days and whose body had already begun to decay. They assumed there was a time limit to His power, believing healing was possible only if He had arrived “early,” and that “now” was already too late. In this way, their thinking reveals they perceived Jesus' power to be restricted in this way.

However, Martha and Mary were familiar with the stories of resurrection. In the Old Testament, Elijah and Elisha raise the dead; in the New Testament, Jesus raises Jairus' daughter and the widow's son at Nain. As close friends of Jesus, they surely knew that He possessed power over death. However, when suffering struck their own family, in their grief, they fell into a negative mindset, believing that ’delayed“ meant ”impossible“ or ”irreversible.“ That is a very human response. Perhaps, in our own struggles, we too assume limits to God: ”If only it sooner happened …“ or ”If only we had acted back then …“ These thoughts often stem from certain ”assumptions“ we hold about God.

Fellowship and Resilience

Lazarus was miraculously raised from the dead, but after all, this event is an exception. In everyday life, most people must endure the long years that follow the loss of loved ones and seek ways to continue despite their grief.

The Socioemotional Selectivity Theory (SST) suggests that when individuals encounter major life events—such as a pandemic or natural disaster—their mindset may undergo a significant shift: they refocus on emotionally meaningful behaviors and tend to deepen ties with close friends and family. While this selective social pattern may appear to narrow one's social circle, it actually enhances the quality and depth of emotional support. This dynamic closely parallels the experience of faith communities. A meaningful fellowship life is precisely what nourishes psychological resilience. When we go beyond superficial small talk and build genuine, heart-to-heart connections in church, this support system becomes our refuge in the storm of life.

Prayer and Resilience

A six-year longitudinal study of patients with chronic illnesses in the United States revealed a positive link between prayer and resilience. ^* After controlling for a range of variables, the study found that patients who engaged in daily private prayer had a significantly higher survival rate than those who prayed less frequently. Although the mechanism requires further investigation, researchers suggested that the “sense of hope” derived from prayer may play a key role. When believers consistently entrust matters beyond their control—such as illness—to God in prayer, this repeated affirmation and entrustment foster peace and consolation. Physiologically, such practices help lower stress hormone levels, thereby reducing negative health impacts. This reminds us that prayer is not only a spiritual discipline but also the foundation of holistic well-being. In prayer, we admit our own limits while simultaneously experiencing God's infinite power and presence.

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

In addition to fellowship and prayer, modern psychology has developed practical methods for fostering emotional resilience, such as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). If we talked about EMDR twenty years ago, it might be misunderstood, because during the therapy, the therapist moves his or her fingers back and forth in front of the patient's eyes, somewhat like a ritual performed in folk religions. Yet its origins are simple: its founder, Francine Shapiro, was once taking a walk in the park when she accidentally discovered that As her eyes moved rhythmically from side to side, her negative emotions noticeably diminished. She subsequently conducted years of clinical trials, and this therapeutic approach has gained recognition in the medical community. This offers us a practical insight: when you feel stuck in negative emotions—or even overwhelmed by grief, as Martha and Mary were—you might follow Shapiro's example and take a walk in the park, allowing your eyes to move naturally from side to side as you observe the scenery. Such a simple act may help gradually help ease your emotions. (Of course, if distress becomes severe, seek professional medical or psychological counseling.)

The term “resilience” has gained significant attention in recent years and topped the list of buzzwords of 2025 in mainland China. This reflects the reality that many people are navigating uncertain external environments, experiencing anxiety and unease that may impact both their personal lives and collective cooperation. Deep down, we long to break free from circumstantial constraints and continue moving forward. Reflecting on the story of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary, we find a miracle beyond their imaginations. May we cultivate resilience in mind, body, and spirit through fellowship and personal prayer, finding strength in God together.

____________________________________________

^* Gail Ironson and Salman Shaheen Ahmad, “Frequency of Private Prayer Predicts Survival Over 6 Years in a Nationwide US Sample of Individuals with a Chronic Illness,” Journal of Religion and Health 63.4 (August 2024): 2910-2923 [article online]; available from Springer Nature Link website (https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-023-01870-z); accessed 1 March 2026.

Curie Qu

Assistant Professor, Christian Thought

璩理

Assistant Professor of Christian Thought

Three types of suffering

Whenever a major global disaster occurs, theodicy often resurfaces in religious communities for repeated discussions. Due to the impact of the disaster, these discussions are often tinged with strong emotions, making it difficult to remain calm and rational. In today's world, information flows exceptionally rapidly; a single careless statement by a believer can trigger sensitive emotions among disaster victims and the general public. Therefore, when reflecting on and discussing these issues, we should first pray, asking God to grant us a compassionate heart, a wise mind, and a careful tongue.

In God's order of creation, three main types of suffering can be identified:(1)Moral sin:Crimes committed by humans through the abuse of free will, such as massacre, theft, and betrayal;(2)Natural disasters:Disasters that cannot be avoided even with the best preventative measures, such as earthquakes, fires, and car accidents;(3)Suffering in life:Whether caused by human or natural factors, misfortune will always befall some people, such as the pain of losing a loved one, physical disability, and depression. These three types of suffering are not completely separate, but rather overlap and intertwine.

Faith Challenge

These sufferings are real and often touch the very foundation of our faith. Believers and non-believers alike can challenge the Christian faith from these three angles:(1)Logical problem:The statement "God is omnipotent and all-good" is logically incompatible with the statement "sin exists".(2)Empirical question:The existence of suffering is evidence that denies the existence of God—either God does not exist, or God is not omnipotent or all-good;(3)Existing problems:Setting aside purely rational debates, we are in fact entangled in various forms of suffering, prompting sighs like, "This is meaningless!" and "This shouldn't have happened! At least not to me!"

In response to challenges from both logical and empirical perspectivesLeibniz(GW Leibniz) argues that our real world, despite its suffering, is "the best possible world." God, as an omniscient, omnipotent, and all-good being, created this world with the best intentions. The existence of evil and suffering in this world is also for the purpose of achieving a greater good or a longer-term endeavor.Hegel(GWF Hegel) also holds a similar view, believing that suffering is a necessary condition for achieving a higher good. Leibniz and Hegel responded by taking a detached, purely rational approach, away from real-world disasters.Such a response may be rationally valid, but for those who are suffering in reality, "rationalizing" all their suffering may simultaneously abstract or even "nihilize" their specific suffering.Those still suffering from the disaster might ask: Is my current difficulty a "necessary price" or "necessary means" for God to achieve the greatest good? Am I just a pawn that can be sacrificed in God's grand game of victory?

Suffering is suffering

"The way of Heaven is far, but the way of man is near." If logical and empirical responses seem too distant (they are not unimportant, but they may not fit the specific circumstances of the sufferers), then we might as well start from a third perspective, that is, to face the real suffering from the perspective of the actual living conditions.From the perspective of the sufferersFirst, we cannot abstract the issue of suffering as we did in the previous two perspectives, that is, start from a general concept of suffering and argue for its inevitability at the level of theoretical thinking; instead, we must face up to and seriously consider real suffering, and treat suffering as suffering itself. Secondly,Do not try to find a seemingly "spiritually correct" explanation for every real suffering."This is God asking you to let go of everything and look solely to Him," and "In pain, you will experience God's grace and care more truly." Some suffering may be meaningless and entirely negative. We don't know why it happens, or why it happens to someone. If we insist on trying to understand and find a rational explanation for every specific suffering, we can easily make the same mistake as Job's three friends. We can...Weep with those who weep.You could also share the Book of Job with those who are grieving, or the life stories of author Xing Linzi (Liu Xia) or evangelist and motivational speaker Nick Vujicic. This might help and comfort them. Of course, this might not work, because there is always a significant gap between other people's stories of suffering and one's own personal experience of suffering.

Endurance and Hope

Martin Luther, in his later years, lost his beloved thirteen-year-old daughter. He said, "It's a strange feeling. I know she's with the Father, and everything is fine, yet I can't help but grieve." He also quoted Matthew 26:41, lamenting that "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Because we are physically weak, we may question God in suffering, become angry with Him, and be unable to utter words of thanksgiving and praise in prayer—this is human nature—we are all inherently so weak. But on the other hand, we should also see:These flickering lights and bruised reeds, as long as they are not extinguished or broken, life must go on and faith must be regained. Even if some lights are truly extinguished and some reeds are truly broken, that is not the final end—at the end of the road, there is the Lord who rose from the dead, waiting for us to return to our eternal heavenly home.

Three Kinds of Suffering

Whenever a major disaster occurs, faith communities often engage in renewed discussions of theodicy. Under the weight of disaster, such discussions tend to become emotionally charged, making it difficult to maintain a calm and rational spirit. In today's world, information spreads with unprecedented speed. Even the slightest misstep in a believer's words can provoke strong emotions among disaster victims and the public. Therefore, as we reflect on and discuss these issues, we must first pray, asking God to grant us compassionate hearts, wise minds, and cautious tongues.

In God's creation order, three major categories of suffering can be identified: (1) moral evils: sins committed by humans through the misuse of their free will, such as murder, theft, and betrayal; (2) natural disasters: calamities that cannot be avoided even with the best preventive measures, such as earthquakes, fires, and traffic accidents; (3) the sorrows of life: whether stemming from human or natural causes, misfortune inevitably befalls some people, such as bereavement, physical disabilities, and depression. These three categories of suffering are, of course, not strictly separate but overlap and intertwine.

Challenges to Christian Faith

Suffering and these evils are a reality that often shakes the very foundations of our faith. Both believers and non-believers may challenge the Christian faith from these three perspectives: (1) the logical problem: statement 1, “God is omnipotent and perfectly good,” and statement 2, “Evil exists,” are logically incompatible; (2) the evidential problem: the existence of evil serves as evidence against God's existence—either God does not exist, or God is not omnipotent or perfectly good; (3) the existential problem: setting aside purely rational arguments, we are in fact beset by various forms of suffering, leading us to exclaim, “This is meaningless!” or “This shouldn't be happening! At least, it shouldn't be happening to me!”

In response to the challenges from the logic and evidential problems, GW Leibniz argues that the actual world, despite the existence of suffering, is still “the best of all possible worlds.” As an omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly good being, God created this world with the best intentions. The existence of evil and suffering in this world serves to realize a greater good or a long-term purpose. GWF Hegel holds a similar view, arguing that suffering is a necessary condition for the realization of a higher good. Both Leibniz and Hegel adopted a detached, purely rational approach that distanced themselves from the realities of disaster. While such responses may be valid on rational grounds, for those suffering in real life, “rationalizing” may abstract—or even “nullify”—their concrete experience of suffering. Those still plagued by disaster may well ask: Is my current hardship merely the “necessary cost” or “necessary means” for God to achieve the greatest good? Am I simply a disposable pawn in God's grand chess game that He will win in the end?

Seeing Suffering as Suffering

As an old Chinese saying goes, “the way of heaven is distant, but the way of humans is near.” If responses to the logic and evidential problems seem too abstract (not that they are unimportant, but that they may not fully address the circumstances of sufferers), we might approach the issue from a third perspective: viewing the concrete suffering as lived reality. From the perspective of those who suffer, we must first avoid abstracting the problem of suffering as the previous two approaches tend to do—starting with a general concept of suffering and arguing theoretically for its inevitability. Instead, we must face and take real suffering seriously, addressing suffering on its own terms. Second, we must not force a seemingly “spiritually correct” explanation onto every real suffering: "God wants you to let go of everything and look to Him alone," or "In your pain, you will experience God's grace and care more deeply." Some suffering may simply be gratuitous. We do not know why it occurs, nor why it afflicts a particular person. If we insist on assuming the role of an all-knowing interpreter who must find a rational explanation for every instance of suffering, we risk repeating the error made by Job's three friends. In fact, we can mourn with those who mourn. We can share with the grieving people the story of Job, or the life stories of the writer Xing Linzi (Liu Xia) and the evangelist and motivational speaker Nick Vujicic. This may help them and bring them comfort. Of course, it may not work because there is always a deep divide between accounts of others' suffering and the suffering one endures firsthand.

Endurance and Hope

When Martin Luther lost his beloved thirteen-year-old daughter in his later years, he said, "It's strange to know that she is surely at peace and that she is well off there, very well off, and yet to grieve so much!" He also quoted Matthew 26:41, lamenting, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Because our flesh is weak, we may question God in the midst of suffering, grow angry with Him, and find ourselves unable to utter words of thanksgiving and praise. in prayer. This is only human—we are all inherently weak in this way. But on the other hand, we must also recognize this: As long as the smoldering wicks have not yet been quenched and the bruised reeds have not been broken, life must go on, and faith must be restored. Even if some wicks have indeed been extinguished, and some reeds have truly been broken, that is not the end—at the end of the road, the Lord who has risen from the dead awaits us there, ready to welcome us into our eternal heavenly home.

Nathan Ng

Associate Dean (Academic Affairs), Professor of Christian Thought (Church History)

吳國傑

Vice President (Academic Affairs)
Professor of Christian Thought (Church History)

The early church during the catastrophe

Christianity has faced various forms of oppression and calamity from its inception. Since the Roman Emperor Nero (37-68 AD) set fire to the city and blamed the Christians, the Church became an illegal organization suppressed by the Roman Empire. Simply adhering to the belief in Christ was enough to warrant a death sentence. In the early 2nd century, the governor Pliny the Younger (61-113 AD) wrote to Emperor Trajan (53-117 AD), asking how to deal with Christians, saying: "If someone is accused of being a Christian before me, I will take these actions: I will first ask them if they are Christians; if they admit it, I will ask them two or three more times, and threaten them with punishment; if they still insist, I will order their execution."¹ Tajanu replied that Perinyu "has taken the right path," but reminded him: "If anyone denies that he is a Christian, he must be thoroughly verified to make sure that he is a worshipper of our gods."²

Constantine the Great (272-337 AD) issued the Edict of Milan in 313 AD.Edictum MediolanenseFor over two centuries prior, Christians suffered countless cruel persecutions. Some were crucified en masse, some were burned as torches, some were mauled to death by lions in the Colosseum, and children were draped in animal skins and torn apart by rabid dogs. Emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) incited mobs to attack the Church; during his reign, Christians "endured the various humiliations that a frenzied mob usually inflicts on their enemies and adversaries."³ Emperor Decius (201-252 AD) demanded that all the people of the country "offer sacrifices, libations, and taste sacrificial meat" to the Roman gods as proof of their faith, and those who disobeyed would be subjected to torture.⁴ Emperor Diocletian (245-311 AD) went so far as to order the "leveling of churches and burning of Bibles." Faced with Christians who were not afraid of death, he "imprisoned church leaders in various places and then used every means to force them to sacrifice," intending to destroy the faith of the believers.⁵

Early Godfather's Reminder

As can be seen from the extant writings of the early Church Fathers, the early Church, suffering prolonged and brutal persecution and mired in hardship, did not develop bitterness, resentment, or despair; on the contrary, believers often faced the situation positively from a spiritual perspective, trusting in Christ and hoping for future glory. The teachings of these Church Fathers regarding calamity and suffering can be summarized into the following three points:

1. The Lord is with us in times of calamity, bringing comfort to the suffering saints:As the Roman elder Hippolytus (c. 170-235 AD) said, persecution and calamity stemmed from the Antichrist’s attack on the saints, but believers could look to “the Lord appearing from heaven.”⁶ Such revelation can turn danger into opportunity for saints—either by gaining the ability to endure suffering or by seeing the Lord after martyrdom.
2. Death is not the end of life, but a beautiful moment of temporary rest:Tertullian (c. 155-220 AD) interpreted Matthew 6:6 as referring to the "inner chamber" as a prefigurement of the tomb, where those who die under the ultimate and fierce attack of the Antichrist can rest for a while.⁷ Therefore, saints need not fear suffering and death; rather, they should yearn for being with the Lord after death.
3. Saints who persevere through calamity will receive a crown of glory:When Irenaeus (c. 125-202 AD) explained the great tribulation described in Matthew 24:21, he stated that "this is the last test for the righteous, and the one who overcomes will receive an immortal crown."⁸ Therefore, what saints should fear is not disaster, but the weakness and fall in faith due to persecution, thus losing their heavenly blessings.

　　按照以上理解，聖徒可存喜樂的心積極面對各種逼迫災難，就如使徒教父著作《黑馬牧人書》（Pastor Hermae）所說：「那些在將要來臨的大災難中堅忍的人應當歡喜快樂」。⁹ They value the eternal spiritual life in heaven far more than the fleeting physical life on earth; this principle is something they learned from the example of the suffering and death of the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is much suffering in the world today. Some suffering is clearly caused by faith, and in these cases, the teachings of the Church Fathers can provide appropriate encouragement. However, the causes of suffering are not always readily apparent. Internationally, wars cause countless deaths and displacements; regionally, man-made disasters separate families and destroy homes. These pains are real and deeply lamentable. Regardless, the teachings of the early Church Fathers remind believers not to focus solely on this fleeting world, but to look with spiritual eyes to the eternal future; to believe...Disasters are merely temporary trials; Christ is our ever-present help.Physical suffering or even death is not terrible; as long as one perseveres through disaster, one will receive the reward of heavenly glory.

____________________________________________

¹ Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.96.
² Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.97.
³ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 5.1.
⁴ George Milligan, Greek Papyri (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1912), no. 48.
⁵ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 8.2.
⁶ Hippolytus, Commentariorum in Danielem 2.7.
⁷ Tertullian, De Carne Christi 4.27.
⁸ Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses 5.29.1.
⁹ Pastor Hermae, vision 2.2.

The Early Church in Tribulation

From its inception, Christianity faced oppression and tribulation of varying degrees. After the Roman Emperor Nero (37-68 AD) set fire to Rome and put the blame on the Christians, the Church became an outlawed organization under the Roman Empire. Christians, saying, “For the moment this is the line I have taken with all persons brought before me on the charge of being Christians. I have asked them in person if they are Christians, and if they admit it, I repeat the question a second and third time, with a warning of the punishment awaiting them. If they persist, I order them to be led away for execution.” ¹ Trajan responded, affirming that Pliny “had followed the right course of procedure,” while cautioning him: “in the case of anyone who denies that he is a Christian … make it clear that he is not by worshiping our gods.” ²

For over two centuries before Emperor Constantine the Great (272-337 AD) issued the Edictum Mediolanense in 313 AD, Christians endured countless brutal persecutions. Some were crucified en masse, burned, or torn apart by lions in the arena. Even children were clad in animal skins and devoured by rabid dogs. Emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) incited mobs to attack the Church. During his reign, Christians “endured every kind of disgrace that frenzied mobs habitually inflicted upon their enemies and adversaries.” ³ Emperor Decius (201-252 AD) demanded that all citizens must “offer sacrifices, pour libations, and partake of the sacrificial meat” to the Roman gods as proof of their allegiance, threatening torture for those who refused. ⁴ Emperor Diocletian (245-311 AD) went further, ordering churches to be “leveled to the ground and the Scriptures burned.” To subdue Christians who feared no death, he “imprisoned church leaders throughout the empire and employed every means to force them to sacrifice,” aiming to shatter the faith of the Christian community. ⁵

Exhortations from the Early Church Fathers

It is evident from the extant writings of the early Church Fathers that the early Church, enduring prolonged brutal persecution and suffering, did not give rise to bitterness, resentment, or despair. On the contrary, believers consistently confronted adversity from a spiritual perspective, placing their trust in Christ and looking forward to future glory. The teachings of these Fathers regarding tribulation and suffering can be summarized in the following three exhortations:

1. The Lord is present in tribulation, bringing comfort to suffering saints: as the presbyter Hippolytus of Rome (c. 170-235 AD) stated, persecution and tribulation stem from the Antichrist's assault upon the saints, yet believers may look to “the Lord appearing from heaven.” ⁶ This manifestation enables the saints to turn adversity into victory—either gaining strength to endure suffering or beholding the Lord's face after martyrdom.
2. Death is not the end of life, but a beautiful moment of temporary rest: Tertullian (c. 155-220 AD) explained Matthew 6:6, noting that “your room” symbolizes the grave, where those who depart during the fierce final assault of the Antichrist may rest for a time. ⁷ Therefore, saints need not fear suffering or death; departing to be with the Lord is something to be longed for.
3. The saints who endure to the end in tribulation shall receive the crown of glory: Irenaeus (c. 125-202 AD), interpreting the great tribulation described in Matthew 24:21, explicitly states, “This is the final trial of the righteous, and those who overcome shall receive the crown of immortality.” ⁸ Therefore, what saints should fear is not tribulation itself, but rather any weakening or falling away in their faith due to persecution, causing them to lose their portion of heavenly blessings.

　　According to this understanding, saints can face all kinds of persecution and tribulations with joyful hearts, as stated in the Apostolic Father’s work Pastor Hermae: “Happy are you who endure the great tribulation that is at hand.” ⁹ They valued the eternal spiritual life in heaven far more than the fleeting physical life on earth. This principle is what they learned from the suffering and death of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Today, the world is filled with suffering. There are afflictions that we endure clearly for the sake of faith, and in such cases, the teachings of the Church Fathers offer believers fitting encouragement. Yet, for some cases of suffering, it is harder to discern the meaning. Internationally, wars claim countless lives and leave countless displaced; locally, human-made disasters tear families apart and lay waste to homes. However, the early Church Fathers reminded believers: do not fix your eyes solely on this fleeting world; instead, gaze with spiritual vision toward the eternal future, believing that tribulations are but temporary trials, and Christ is our ever-present help. Physical suffering, even death, need not be dreaded. By persevering to the end amid tribulations, one will receive the heavenly reward of glory.

____________________________________________

¹ Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.96.
² Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.97.
³ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 5.1.
⁴ George Milligan, Greek Papyri (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1912), no. 48.
⁵ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 8.2.
⁶ Hippolytus, Commentariorum in Danielem 2.7.
⁷ Tertullian, De Carne Christi 4.27.
⁸ Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses 5.29.1.
⁹ Pastor Hermae, vision 2.2.

Bernard Leung

Associate Professor, New Testament

梁俊豪

Associate Professor of New Testament

Two reactions to the suffering

When we see others suffering, we typically react in two ways: First, like most people, we feel compassion, grieve for their misfortune, and thus care about their well-being; second, some of us can understand the suffering victim's perspective and empathize with their feelings. When the media widely reports on disasters, we naturally have the first reaction towards the victims. This compassion motivates us to care for, comfort, or provide assistance (such as donations) to the suffering victims, hoping to alleviate their suffering. However, does what we do truly help them? This is a question worth exploring. Excessive comfort may put pressure on the suffering victims; repeatedly talking about the disaster may also cause them secondary harm. In these compassionate actions, we often play the role of giver, standing behind a safety boundary to extend a helping hand to the recipient, but our perspectives and positions may not be the same. When media coverage decreases, we gradually lose understanding of the suffering victims' demands and situations, and our attention and compassion for them gradually diminish, and we may even judge their feelings by our own standards.

The second type of response is less familiar to us, requiring us to put ourselves in the shoes of the sufferers, adopt their perspective, and empathize with their plight. Setting aside our own viewpoints and deeply empathizing with the sufferers' perspective and emotional world best affirms their feelings and demonstrates our genuine humanity and solidarity. However, achieving this level of resonance is extremely demanding for most people, even for professionally trained counselors. If boundaries are overlooked during this process, it could potentially lead to depression or psychological trauma.

"Remember" and "Empathize"

However, the author of Hebrews in the New Testament calls on believers to respond to those persecuted for their faith with an attitude similar to the second one: "Remember those who are being mistreated, and feel their pain" (Hebrews 13:3, Universal Bible Translation). "Remember" follows the instruction in the first verse: "Remember those who are imprisoned," meaning not merely to consciously recall them, nor simply to express concern verbally, but to...Help them with concrete actions, continuously (this instruction is in the present tense).Similarly, "feeling the same way" parallels the phrase "as if I were in prison with them" in the first half of the text. Its original form is ὡς καὶ αὐτοὶ ὄντες ἐν σώματι, which is translated in the revised and new Chinese versions as "as if you were also personally subjected to abuse." The original ἐν σώματι ("physically") expresses...Completely agreeSuffering is based on our shared vulnerability and humanity, and our special connection with one another.

This human connection is fully revealed in Christ's redemptive work. Hebrews 2:11 points out that the Son of God, as High Priest, is "from the same source" as his people, whom he calls brothers. Since the people are "of flesh and blood," possessing vulnerable humanity, Christ also shares this humanity, "likewise becoming flesh and blood" (2:14), "being like his brothers in every way" (2:17), including "having suffered after being tempted" (2:18), and "helping those who are being tempted," in order to fulfill the High Priest's ministry of atonement for the people.

The author of Hebrews further describes the High Priest as being able to "sympathize with our weaknesses" (Hebrews 4:15). "Sympathy" (συνπαθῆσαι, or "compassion") is not merely a psychological feeling, but rather sharing the experience of human weakness, personally being "tempted in every way, just as we are." Christ, as the High Priest, does not stand high above pitying us, pitying our suffering from human weakness and temptation, unable to save ourselves; rather, Christ chooses to be "like us in every way" (Hebrews 2:17), even experiencing the same vulnerability as us. This is full participation in our human weakness, uniting with us.

　　Whether we can "remember" those who suffer and empathize with them depends on whether we have learned to be like Christ.Let go of your own identity, opinions, or perceived differences, and acknowledge, embody, and accept that you share the same vulnerable humanity as those who suffer. One of humanity's weaknesses is the avoidance of suffering, including one's own and others' suffering. However, ignoring the suffering of others, drawing lines for various reasons, and severing the connection between us is tantamount to believing that one's humanity is nobler, more divine, or more privileged than others'. To truly empathize and connect with those who suffer is to be connected with them as Christ was with us. Only then will our companionship and help have meaning.

Two Responses to Those Who Suffer

When we witness others suffering, we typically have two reactions: First, most people feel sympathy, grieving for their misfortune and thus caring about their well-being; second, some individuals can understand the sufferer's perspective, empathize with their feelings, and resonate with them. When disasters receive extensive media coverage, we naturally experience the first reaction toward the victims. This sympathy drives us to offer care, condolences, or aid (such as donations) to those suffering, hoping to alleviate their pain. However, does what we do truly help them? This is a question well worth exploring. Excessive expressions of condolences may place undue pressure on those suffering. Repeated discussion of the disaster may also cause secondary trauma. In these acts of sympathy, we often assume the role of benefactors, extending aid from a safe distance. Yet, our perspectives and positions may differ significantly from theirs. As media coverage diminishes, our understanding of the victims' needs and conditions gradually fades. Our attention and sympathy wane, and we may even judge their feelings based on Our own yardsticks.

The second type of response is less familiar to us, requiring us to put ourselves in their shoes, adopt the perspective of those suffering, and empathize deeply with their plight. Setting aside our own views and deeply immersing ourselves in the sufferer's perspective and emotional world best affirms their feelings and demonstrates our most genuine humanity and solidarity. However, such deep resonance is quite exhausting for most people—even professionally trained counselors. If boundaries are neglected during the process, it may even plunge one into depression or psychological distress.

“Remember” and “Since You Also Are in the Body”

Nonetheless, the Epistle of Hebrews urges believers to adopt an attitude akin to the second response toward those persecuted for their faith: “… and [remember] those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body” (13:3b ESV). The verb “remember” is in the tense present in Greek; accordingly, the NIV renders it as “Continue to remember …” The command denotes more than mere mental recollection or a verbal expression of concern, but a call to take concrete action to provide ongoing assistance to those in tragedy. This command to continue remembering those who are mistreated is grounded in the recognition that “you also are in the body,” indicating that all share in the weakness of bodily existence. This common humanity thus becomes the basis for solidarity with those who suffer.

This solidarity with others is fully revealed in Christ's redemptive work. Hebrews 2:11 states that the Son of God, as the High Priest, and the people who are called His brothers and sisters “all have one source.” "to help those who are being tempted" (2:18), thereby fulfilling the high priest's role of atoning for the people.

The author of Hebrews further the High Priest as one who is capable of “[sympathizing] with our weaknesses” (4:15). “To sympathize” (συνπαθῆσαι, NIV renders as “to empathize”) is not merely an emotional response, but a shared experience of human frailties, having been “in every respect … describes as we are” (4:15). Christ, as the High Priest, does not stand tempted aloof in a position of superiority, merely pitying with our plight as those who, in human frailty, fall into temptation and are unable to deliver themselves. Instead, He chose to be “made like [us] in every respect” (2:17), even to the point of experiencing the same frailties. This means full participation in our human weaknesses as an expression of solidarity with us.

　　Whether we can “remember” those who suffer and feel their pain as our own depends on whether we have learned to be like Christ—laying aside our own status, perspectives, or perceived differences, to acknowledge, embody, and accept that we share the same fragile humanity as those who are suffering. One weakness of human nature is the tendency to flee from pain—our own and that of others. However, to disregard the suffering of others by erecting boundaries through various justifications and severing the bonds that connect us amounts to the implicit claim that one's own humanity is more noble, more divine, and more entitled to protection than that of others. To share in the experience of others and to be joined with those who suffer, one must identify with them in the same way that Christ identifies with us. Only then does our companionship and aid hold meaning.

Fook-kong Wong

Associate Dean (Academic), Old Testament Professor

黃福光

Vice-President (Research)
Professor of Old Testament

Why did disaster strike?

When unfortunate events occur, many people ask, "Why?" In fact, many times, the direct causes of these events are things we already know. According to data from the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, a total of 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19.¹ The Tai Po fire, which occurred closer to us, has an official death toll of 168. Both disasters have had a profound impact on the people of Hong Kong, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic is caused by the novel coronavirus SARS-CoV-2, while the Tai Po fire has had multiple causes identified, none of which are mysterious or incomprehensible.

So why do we still ask "why" even when we know the direct cause of a disaster? It's probably because we not only want to know the cause of the calamity, but also yearn to understand its deeper meaning. In other words,We want to know why God allowed—or even facilitated—the disaster to happen.In the Bible, God conveys His will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams, and He also reveals Himself to humanity, personally delivering His word without ambiguity. However, these events are beyond human control—this is true in the Bible, and even more so today. Therefore, we cannot expect explanations for the current calamities from these means.

However, our existing Bible, an easily accessible and authoritative source, offers many explanations for why calamities occur. Reasons include attacks by evil spirits (e.g., Job), human sinfulness (e.g., Judges 19-21), foolish decisions by those involved (Proverbs 10:14, 14:16), and God's judgment (Deuteronomy 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 points out that life-threatening calamities (the original text reads "evil times") can suddenly befall anyone without warning; that is to say, in this fallen world, disaster is the norm and requires little explanation. From a more positive perspective, God may allow certain calamities to occur to teach or train us in righteousness (Deuteronomy 8:1-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7), or as part of our calling to suffer for the Kingdom of God (Matthew 5:10-12). These are all reasonable answers, but...The problem is that we may not be able to discern which is the correct answer for a given situation.Even if we think we understand, we might be wrong. Job's friend was like that; he thought he knew the answer, but he was mistaken.

Exploring the meaning of disaster

　　I believe that when exploring the meaning of a disaster, we should first investigate its direct causes, because that may be where the meaning lies.For example, if someone commits a crime, breaks the law, or does something foolish, bringing misfortune upon themselves (even harming others), they should repent for their sins, transgressions, or foolishness, without seeking deeper meaning. This is crucial to preventing a recurrence of such disasters. But...If the direct cause is unclear, forcing an explanation will be counterproductive.This will not help prevent a recurrence of the disaster. Moreover, blaming innocent people for the mistake is unfair.

At this point, we must revisit Job's friends. Their theological viewpoint was not flawed—God rewards those who obey His word and punishes those who disobey—a concept found in the Bible (e.g., Deuteronomy 28; Judges 3:7-8). However, their error lay in applying this theological viewpoint to Job. Errors in application are harder to correct than errors in interpretation because they involve subjective judgment. While the Bible offers many explanations for calamities and suffering, determining which explanation (if any) is correct for a given situation is not easy. As Hans-Georg Gadamer quotes Immanuel Kant, "There are no rules governing the rational application of rules."² We have no other Bible to teach us how to use it. This reminds us:Even if the interpretation is correct, errors may still occur when applying it.Therefore, studying the Bible involves not only historical information, grammatical analysis, and theological knowledge, but also the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the ability to discern so that the truth can be correctly applied to life.

Another way to deal with it

Faced with disaster, Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth adopted a different approach. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain why Naomi had lost her husband and two sons, but instead chose to accompany her back to Bethlehem and take good care of her. Similarly, Boaz did not try to explain why the tragedy had befallen Naomi and Ruth, but instead helped them obtain food, and later became their kinsman redeemer. Our inability to explain disasters does not mean we are powerless. On the contrary, we can still do many practical things to help those affected.

So, should we explore the deeper meaning of disasters? I think for most people, this means what spiritual lessons can be learned from them. This involves subjective understanding. Even if we haven't personally experienced a disaster, we can still learn spiritual lessons from it; if we have, it goes without saying. However, if we're referring to another level—whether we can discern God's will in a disaster—then we should be cautious. For example, is God punishing the world through the coronavirus because this generation is wicked? Or is it a sign of the pains before Christ's second coming (Mark 13:8)? Both are possible, but we cannot be certain. Therefore, we should not teach these interpretations as absolute truth. Rather than offering uncertain explanations, we should earnestly follow the teaching of Deuteronomy 29:29: "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed things belong to us and our children forever, that we may do everything that is said in this law." Similarly,God may allow or cause calamities to occur, and the purpose behind it may be hidden; but His commandment for us to help those in need is clearly revealed..

____________________________________________

¹ “Number of COVID-19 deaths reported to WHO” [Online source]; taken from the World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); viewed on February 13, 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Why Does It Happen?

It is not uncommon for people to ask, “Why?” when something bad happens. Actually, in many cases, the immediate causes are known. According to the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19. ¹ Closer to home, the official figure of people who died in the Wang Fuk Court fire is 168. Both disasters impact Hong Kong residents deeply, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic was caused by the SARS-CoV-2 virus. Quite a number of causes for the fire at Tai Po have been identified, and none of them is mysterious or unfathomable.

So, why do we ask why even when we know the immediate cause of a disaster? I think the reason is that we want to know the deeper meaning of a disaster rather than just the cause. In other words, we want to know why God allowed or even caused it to happen. In the Bible, God communicates his will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams. He may also appear to convey his words. So, there was no ambiguity. Nevertheless, these events are beyond human control; this was the case in the Bible and is certainly the case today. Thus, we cannot depend on them to explain why a disaster happens today.

A readily accessible and authoritative source of information is the Bible, which gives us quite a lot of explanations about why disasters happen. They include attacks by evil spirits (eg, Job), the sinfulness of humanity (eg, Jgs 19-21), foolish decisions of people involved (Prv 10:14; 14:16), and judgment of God (Dt 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 states that a life-threatening disaster (lit. “evil time”) may befall anyone suddenly without warning. That is, disaster is a norm in this fallen world and may require no further explanation. More positively, some disasters may be permitted as a means of teaching or training us in righteousness (Dt 8:1-3; 1 Pt 1:6-7). We may also be called to suffer for the sake of God's Kingdom (Mt 5:10-12). They are all legitimate answers, but the problem is that we may not know which of these is the correct answer in a specific situation. Moreover, we may be mistaken even if we think we know. This was the case with Job's friends. They thought they knew, but they were wrong.

The Meaning of a Disaster

　　I think that in searching for the meaning of a disaster, we should begin with the immediate cause since it may also be the meaning. For example, if a person commits a sin, a crime, or something foolish that brings a disaster on himself (and perhaps on others), he should repent of his sin, crime, or foolishness. There is no need to look for a deeper meaning. This step is important to prevent the disaster from happening again. However, if the immediate cause is not obvious, forcing an explanation is counterproductive. It won't prevent the disaster from recurring. Moreover, it is unjust to blame an innocent person for wrongdoing.

This brings us back to Job's friends. Their theology was not wrong. The notion that God rewards those who keep his words but punishes those who disobey is found in the Bible (eg, Dt 28; Jgs 3:7-8). It was their application of that theology to Job that was wrong. Wrong application is more difficult to correct than wrong interpretation because it is a subjective decision. (if any) is correct in a specific situation. As Hans-Georg Gadamer, quoting Immanuel Kant, says, “There are no rules governing the reasonable use of rules.” ² We don't have another Bible to teach us how to use the Bible. This warns us that even when our interpretation is correct, we may still make a mistake in application. This is why Bible study is not just concerned about historical information, grammatical analyses, and theological knowledge. We also need the guidance of the Holy Spirit and discernment to appropriate it correctly in our lives.

Another Approach

Another approach to disaster was taken by Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain the reason Naomi lost her husband and sons. Instead, she accompanied Naomi back to Bethlehem to take care of her. do many practical things to help the victims.

So, should we attempt to find deeper meanings in a disaster? I think that for most people, it means whether there are any spiritual lessons we can learn from it. This is a subjective perception. There is no reason why we cannot learn spiritual lessons from a disaster, even if we are not personally involved; more so, if we are personally involved. At another level, if the question is whether we can discern God's will in the disaster, we should be wary. Was God punishing this world through COVID-19 because of its wickedness? Or was it the birth pangs heralding the Second Coming of Christ (Mk 13:8)? They are both possible, but we can't be sure. Therefore, we should not teach them as truths. Instead of offering uncertain explanations, we do well to heed the teachings of Deuteronomy 29:29, which says, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law” (ESV). Similarly, God's will in allowing or causing a disaster to happen may be hidden from us, but his will for us to help those in need is clearly manifested.

____________________________________________

¹ “Number of COVID-19 Deaths Reported to WHO” [data online]; available form World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); accessed 13 February 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

In a time of turmoil and frequent disasters, how should Christians cope? What reminders or comforts can the Bible or theology offer us? We invited several teachers to explore these questions from different perspectives.

In an age marked by turmoil and disaster, how should Christians respond? What counsel and consolation does God’s Word and theology give us? To explore these questions from diverse perspectives, we have invited some of our faculty members to share their reflections.

Is Time a Divine Creation: Revisiting Augustinian Time in Light of Theoretical Physics and Psychology

Time is a significant issue in both natural sciences and religious thoughts. Not only time itself has attracted attentions of many scientists and religious thinkers, also it decides the way we look at other things.

In the Confessions, Augustine situates time within the divine order of creation, making it one of the most significant sources for later inquiries into physical and psychological time.

This lecture traces contemporary theories of time in theoretical physics and psychology back to Augustine’s understanding of the origin of time, aiming to achieve a new theological-hermeneutical “fusion of horizons.”

Please click here to register

Please click here to register

Please refer to the Chinese page.

Please refer to the Chinese page.

Online Registration

Online Application

Fook-kong Wong

Associate Dean (Academic), Old Testament Professor

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut elit tellus, luctus nec ullamcorper mattis, pulvinar dapibus leo.

Why did disaster strike?

When unfortunate events occur, many people ask, "Why?" In fact, many times, the direct causes of these events are things we already know. According to data from the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, a total of 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19.¹ The Tai Po fire, which occurred closer to us, has an official death toll of 168. Both disasters have had a profound impact on the people of Hong Kong, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic is caused by the novel coronavirus SARS-CoV-2, while the Tai Po fire has had multiple causes identified, none of which are mysterious or incomprehensible.

So why do we still ask "why" even when we know the direct cause of a disaster? It's probably because we not only want to know the cause of the calamity, but also yearn to understand its deeper meaning. In other words,We want to know why God allowed—or even facilitated—the disaster to happen.In the Bible, God conveys His will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams, and He also reveals Himself to humanity, personally delivering His word without ambiguity. However, these events are beyond human control—this is true in the Bible, and even more so today. Therefore, we cannot expect explanations for the current calamities from these means.

However, our existing Bible, an easily accessible and authoritative source, offers many explanations for why calamities occur. Reasons include attacks by evil spirits (e.g., Job), human sinfulness (e.g., Judges 19-21), foolish decisions by those involved (Proverbs 10:14, 14:16), and God's judgment (Deuteronomy 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 points out that life-threatening calamities (the original text reads "evil times") can suddenly befall anyone without warning; that is to say, in this fallen world, disaster is the norm and requires little explanation. From a more positive perspective, God may allow certain calamities to occur to teach or train us in righteousness (Deuteronomy 8:1-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7), or as part of our calling to suffer for the Kingdom of God (Matthew 5:10-12). These are all reasonable answers, but...The problem is that we may not be able to discern which is the correct answer for a given situation.Even if we think we understand, we might be wrong. Job's friend was like that; he thought he knew the answer, but he was mistaken.

Exploring the meaning of disaster

　　I believe that when exploring the meaning of a disaster, we should first investigate its direct causes, because that may be where the meaning lies.For example, if someone commits a crime, breaks the law, or does something foolish, bringing misfortune upon themselves (even harming others), they should repent for their sins, transgressions, or foolishness, without seeking deeper meaning. This is crucial to preventing a recurrence of such disasters. But...If the direct cause is unclear, forcing an explanation will be counterproductive.This will not help prevent a recurrence of the disaster. Moreover, blaming innocent people for the mistake is unfair.

At this point, we must revisit Job's friends. Their theological viewpoint was not flawed—God rewards those who obey His word and punishes those who disobey—a concept found in the Bible (e.g., Deuteronomy 28; Judges 3:7-8). However, their error lay in applying this theological viewpoint to Job. Errors in application are harder to correct than errors in interpretation because they involve subjective judgment. While the Bible offers many explanations for calamities and suffering, determining which explanation (if any) is correct for a given situation is not easy. As Hans-Georg Gadamer quotes Immanuel Kant, "There are no rules governing the rational application of rules."² We have no other Bible to teach us how to use it. This reminds us:Even if the interpretation is correct, errors may still occur when applying it.Therefore, studying the Bible involves not only historical information, grammatical analysis, and theological knowledge, but also the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the ability to discern so that the truth can be correctly applied to life.

Another way to deal with it

Faced with disaster, Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth adopted a different approach. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain why Naomi had lost her husband and two sons, but instead chose to accompany her back to Bethlehem and take good care of her. Similarly, Boaz did not try to explain why the tragedy had befallen Naomi and Ruth, but instead helped them obtain food, and later became their kinsman redeemer. Our inability to explain disasters does not mean we are powerless. On the contrary, we can still do many practical things to help those affected.

So, should we explore the deeper meaning of disasters? I think for most people, this means what spiritual lessons can be learned from them. This involves subjective understanding. Even if we haven't personally experienced a disaster, we can still learn spiritual lessons from it; if we have, it goes without saying. However, if we're referring to another level—whether we can discern God's will in a disaster—then we should be cautious. For example, is God punishing the world through the coronavirus because this generation is wicked? Or is it a sign of the pains before Christ's second coming (Mark 13:8)? Both are possible, but we cannot be certain. Therefore, we should not teach these interpretations as absolute truth. Rather than offering uncertain explanations, we should earnestly follow the teaching of Deuteronomy 29:29: "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed things belong to us and our children forever, that we may do everything that is said in this law." Similarly,God may allow or cause calamities to occur, and the purpose behind it may be hidden; but His commandment for us to help those in need is clearly revealed..

____________________________________________

¹ “Number of COVID-19 deaths reported to WHO” [Online source]; taken from the World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); viewed on February 13, 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Experiencing God's Love

Growing up in a Christian primary school, I regularly listened to teachers explain the Bible. From that time on, I had a simple faith in God and obeyed Him. Later, someone invited me to attend church worship services, which marked the beginning of my church life. However, at that time, I only participated in worship services, and since I subsequently studied abroad for many years, my connection with the church remained distant.

In October 2016, I returned to Hong Kong after graduating from a university, and shortly after, my grandfather passed away. I felt deeply saddened, but when the pastor expressed the church's condolences and care to me, I suddenly felt God's love, which stirred in me a desire to respond and seek Him further. Thereafter, I joined the church fellowship and genuinely experienced the love of brothers and sisters in Christ, joining them in the pursuit of spiritual growth.

Awakening My Heart for Missions

At the end of 2018, two brothers invited me to serve with them in Myanmar. This experience opened my eyes, deepening my understanding of faith and enriching my spiritual life. It also planted a blossoming desire in my heart for the Great Commission of spreading the gospel.

Praise be to the Lord for, after several years, my passion remained unfading, and I constantly kept the ministry of the Abundant Life Church in Myanmar in my thoughts and prayers. In the summer of 2023, I visited the area for the third time. In addition to meeting with co-workers, children, and other brothers and sisters, I took the opportunity to check the condition of the library which had been previously established. I also participated in the expansion project of that church.

Whether then or now, the situation in Myanmar remains heartbreaking. Since the military reclaimed power, the nation has been engulfed in endless warfare, leaving its people displaced and suffering. Hospitals lack doctors, schools lack teachers, and hope has vanished from the eyes of the people—alas! When I returned to the Abundant Life Church, my heart was often stirred, and I was moved to tears. I saw so many people in dire need, longing for blessings. The church's organ electronic had never worked properly; the girls' dormitory did not have a single fan, making summer nights unbearably hot and sleepless. Upon learning this, I immediately went to purchase fans, hoping that these young people could live a little better. Though such help may seem very limited in scope, I felt that it was important to do whatever I could to help.

Later, the children's pure hearts touched me yet again. They were filled with eagerness to understand Chinese literature, so I helped guide them through Su Dongpo's “Water Melody” and Li Houzhu's “Lady Yu.” Seeing their faces light up with satisfaction made the discomfort from the heat at night feel worthwhile. Their excitement reminded me to keep a pure and simple heart every day and led me to reflect that God values our innermost beings most. heart to follow the Lord?

While there, I also visited several impoverished families. Though destitute and living in conditions unfit for habitation by Hong Kong standards, they sang hymns and worshiped God from the depths of their hearts that evening. This sight moved me to tears. Additionally, I visited a newly established primary school in the rural outskirts. Despite being church-run, it even had young monks attending classes. I pray the Lord to bestow His grace upon that land and lead more teachers to come and teach them.

The multitude of ministries there is beyond counting, making me keenly aware that the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. After returning to Hong Kong that time, I visited various churches to share my experiences and insights, hoping that more brothers and sisters in Christ would learn about the Abundant Life Church, so they may give offerings generously, pray persistently, and work together to bless the churches in Myanmar.

Embracing the Missionary Vision

Through the ministry in Myanmar, God has given me a vision for mission. May God grant me His heart for the needy and persecuted. Let me not only worship Him sincerely but also lead all nations and peoples to know Him. Even if a lifetime of mission yields only a small harvest, how wonderful it would be if it could bring us, His creation, into fellowship with the Triune Creator, singing praises to Him with joyful voices!

On August 9, 2024, I turned thirty. I am grateful that I was in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, at that time, participating in a mission trip. Under the guidance of the Rev. Eric Wing-mun Tong and the Rev. Chi-kwong Chung, I was inspired to reflect on the idea of “establishing oneself at thirty”: First, I asked myself, “Why does the Lord give me all these gifts?” Then, I asked myself, “Why have I not girded my loins and set out, now that my youth is past? Why wait until old age overtakes me?” Thus, I resolved to answer God's call, enter the seminary for training, and aspire to be used by Him.

Lord, though I am weak and inadequate, I ask for Your grace and love. Send me forth and use me. I desire to follow You all my life! Amen!

Tai Po Hung Fook Court Fire

Tai Po Hung Fook Court Fire

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Daniel Lam

Assistant Professor,
New Testament

林天祐

Assistant Professor of New Testament

Revisiting Pneumatology in Paul's Writings

The Apostle Paul wrote the Greek word πνεῦμα (pronounced pneuma / spiritWhen the word "spirit" is used, what does it refer to? For most modern readers, the answer seems very simple: the human spirit or the Holy Spirit, the latter being the third person of the Trinity, a divine agent of comfort, conviction, and power. We naturally recall this theological interpretation as if it were the obvious answer; readers and translators alike understand it almost instinctively.However, in recent years, some have questioned whether πνεῦμα should be translated as "spirit." This article aims to explore these objections and investigate alternative ways to translate the word πνεῦμα.

Academic research on this issue has historically shown tension between theological and historical approaches. In the early twentieth century, Hermann Gunkel proposed a dichotomy that separated pneumathe from its Old Testament and Hellenistic Jewish roots, placing it within a framework of supernatural versus natural dualism. This had a profound impact, as this framework was further developed by giants such as Rudolf Bultmann and Ernst Käsemann. Their interpretations, strongly characteristic of Lutheran theology, solidified a "spiritual" interpretive method that emphasized inner subjective religious experience. In this school of thought, spirit became synonymous with the inner life of faith, often neglecting its cosmic and material dimensions.

Important revisions appeared at the end of the 20th century, with scholars insisting on adopting a more historically grounded “physicalist” interpretation.Dell Martin(Dale Martin)'s work *The Corinthian Body*The Corinthian Body, 1995) was groundbreaking, clarifying how Paul's audience understood the body and spirit from a holistic ancient cosmological perspective in which the material and spiritual were intertwined. Subsequently,Eneberg-Pedersen(Troels Engberg-Pedersen) in *Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul*Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul, (2010) argues that interpreting Paul's "pneuma" from a Stoic perspective reveals it as an intelligent "spirit" in the cosmos, which constitutes and unites all things. These studies mark a significant shift, with scholars beginning to seriously consider Paul's materialist outlook. This entails setting aside "post-Cartesian" notions that view "spirit" as non-material personal feeling, and instead embracing an ancient understanding of substance, seeing pneuma as substantial matter. For these scholars, the key to recovering this interpretation is Stoic philosophy, as it was the dominant intellectual system in Paul's Greco-Roman world.

Pneuma -- the Stoic concept of matter?

For Stoicism, pneuma is not the soul or a non-material entity, but a cosmic life force, a mixture of air and fire, which is intelligent, permeates all things, and constitutes the entire universe. It is the tension of a rope, the growth of a plant, human rational thought, and the substance of stars. This pneuma is both divine and rational, and entirely material. It forms the hierarchy of being, from the heavy, solid rock to the ephemeral gods, with no insurmountable chasm between the material and the divine.

Enberg-Pedersen argues that Paul's audience, whether Jewish or Gentile, were immersed in this intellectual atmosphere. When Paul spoke of pneuma, they thought of this universal, life-giving substance. Therefore,Translating "pneuma" as the incorporeal "Holy Spirit" is an anachronism, introducing the modern concept of mind-body dualism into the scripture; this is an unfamiliar idea to Paul.To correctly interpret Paul's view, Enberg-Pedersen argues that we must take his terminology regarding substance literally: pneuma is a thing that can be poured, drunk, and infused; it is a tangible reality that can transform believers from the inside out.

　　Viewing pneuma through the lens of Stoic materialism will completely reshape how we interpret familiar scriptures.First look1 Corinthians 15:44-45How does Paul discuss the resurrected body? Here Paul contrasts the deceased "soul body" (σῶμα ψυχικόν) with the resurrected "spirit body" (σῶμα πνευματικόν), ultimately with the stunning declaration: the resurrected Christ has become the "life-giving pneuma" (KJV: "quickening spirit"). Traditional interpretations understand the "spirit body" as a glorious, incorruptible body, guided by the Holy Spirit, with Christ either possessing or being accompanied by the Holy Spirit. However, Engeberg-Pedersen offers a new perspective, linking these two verses to Paul's discussion of celestial bodies like the sun and moon in verses 40-41 of the same chapter. He argues that for Paul, the "spirit body" is actually composed of "pneuma-stuff" (spirit-stuff) composed body, which is akin to the Stoic understanding of stars, as they believed stars were made of such pure, divine matter. Therefore, Christ, as the "last Adam," not only received the Holy Spirit, but His resurrected form *is* pneuma. He becomes the source of that life-giving substance, which will ultimately reconstruct the bodies of believers. In this interpretation, resurrection is not merely the restoration of life, but the transformation of the flesh into an entirely new mode of existence, one belonging to the system of pneuma.

The second example isRomans chapter 5, verse 5For the Spirit given to us, Paul wrote,spirit"God's love has been poured into our hearts." (Union Version) Traditional interpretations view this phrase as a beautiful metaphor, describing the Holy Spirit's assurance of our inner emotions, indicating that we have received God's love. However, a materialistic interpretation reveals a more direct meaning. According to the ancient medical theory of "Pneumatism," pneuma is an external substance that enters the body through respiration, is processed by the heart, and then transported throughout the body by the arteries, regulating a person's thoughts and actions. When Paul says that the pneuma is "poured into our hearts," he may be describing a real physiological process: divine pneuma is substantially injected into the central core of believers' hearts, physically changing their constitution, enabling them to act according to God's love. From this perspective, this transformation involves both cognition and body, a complete internal and external transformation of the entire person.

Counter-argument: Two Critiques

Although this viewpoint is gaining increasing attention, its materialist discourse has been criticized by other leading scholars. John Barclay and John Levison have precisely pointed out the tension in Engeberg-Pedersen's viewpoint.

　　BarclayIt is pointed out that while Engberg-Pedersen's theory is philosophically precise and rigorous, it overlooks the core of Paul's theology: the radical, transformative newness brought about by the Christ event. For Paul, pneuma is not a pre-existing cosmic substance merely transmitted from heaven to earth; it is the eschatological reality unleashed by Christ's resurrection, an unprecedented "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17). Regarding 1 Corinthians 15, Barclay refutes the interpretation that explicitly claims "celestial bodies" such as the sun, moon, and stars are "spiritual / composed of pneuma." He argues that Paul's emphasis is on God's power to give each thing its own form, rather than delineating a Stoic hierarchy of nature.scale of naturein other words, the hierarchy of being). The "life-giving pneuma" mentioned in Section 45 refers to the power of resurrection, not a higher cosmic substance. Barclay warned that simplifying it to Stoic physics would be tantamount to reducing the resurrection to a "recomposition of existing cosmic elements."

However, it is important not to impose modern concepts of the duality of "spirit and matter" onto Paul. Therefore, using a transliteration ("pneuma") when translating πνεῦμα can be a means for us to temporarily set aside our own theological presuppositions and listen to the original meaning of Paul's words. By using this method, we can see that Paul used the term that best expressed transformative power at the time – a divine, life-transforming substance – to describe new life in Christ. We do not need to assert that Paul was a Stoic or view pneuma as "merely" a medical "spirit." This merely shows that Paul used this conceptual framework to articulate the ineffable "newness" that Barclay sought to uphold. This "newness" lies in God's redemptive work accomplished in Christ; however, its description used the materialistic concepts of the first century.

　　Levisonthen agrees that *pneuma* has substantial dimensions, but criticizes Enberg-Pedersen for selectively, and sometimes even artificially, employing Stoic methods, while neglecting the richer corresponding elements in Paul's Jewish tradition. He raises two specific concerns: First, the Stoic examples cited by Enberg-Pedersen, such as cosmic conflagration (*ekpyrosis*) or Cicero’s essays on divination, do not powerfully explain the continuing transformative work of *pneuma* on believers. In fact, according to the Stoic descriptions of inspiration, such as those relating the oracles at Delphi, *pneuma* is depicted as terrestrial vapor or breeze, not as a substance that flows in speech during sermons. Second, and more crucially, Enberg-Pedersen rarely touches upon Jewish texts, where *pneuma* is described as both substantial and perceptible. He offers examples: the "spirit" that came upon the elders, enabling them to govern the people (Num 11:25); the "excellent spirit" that gave understanding to Daniel (Dan 5:12); and the "spirit" that compelled Elihu to utter words of wisdom (Job 32:18-20). The Dead Sea Scrolls also depict a community transformed by spirit and granted knowledge. For Levison, these Jewish thought systems, rather than abstract Stoic physics, are more likely and more direct primary backgrounds for Paul's thinking.

Let's temporarily set aside Lévison's dichotomy that incorrectly separates Judaism from the Greco-Roman world (see Martin Hengel's *Judaism and Hellenism*)., Judaism and Hellenism)), the work's argument that Jews could not separate Judaism from their surrounding culture has become an academic consensus. Nevertheless, we can still consider Levison's concerns while retaining the insights of the material view. After all, medicine was a common cultural language throughout the Hellenistic world, including Judea. Hellenistic Jews like Paul could easily translate Jewish conceptsspirit(the King James Version translates this as "spirit", referring to God's powerful, life-giving breath), in contrast with the contemporary medical world's view of pneuma (spirit, or translated as "qi"), the understanding of spirit as a life-giving, embodied substance, are fused together. Therefore, if one adopts the "medical" view of *pneuma*, it is not a choice of "Greek culture" over "Jewish culture," but rather an indication of a circulating common knowledge through which Jewish theological concepts can be understood in physical terms. This can respond to Levison's criticism and provide a satisfactory answer:The materiality of pneuma in Paul's writings may not necessarily originate solely from Stoic philosophy, but could also stem from a fusion of Jewish theology and the widely popular biomedical concepts of the ancient Mediterranean world.— This is no different from Philo's practice in his writings.

Overview: What is crucial?

Here we must acknowledge that the term "pneuma" can indeed carry Stoic connotations. Enberg-Pedersen correctly observes that for Paul's first-century audience, the term evoked a substantial, cosmic, life-giving substance. However, we must also note the limitations of Enberg-Pedersen's argument: the pneuma in Paul's letters is by no means merely the cosmic substance described by the Stoics. Some passages explicitly describe pneuma as performing personal actions: the pneuma "intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (Rom 8:26); it "distributes to each individually as it wills" (1 Cor 12:11); it can be "grieved" (Eph 4:30). These are actions that a purely substantial "substance" cannot perform; this implies that pneuma is a person with emotions, will, and the capacity for relationship with others. Reducing pneuma to a purely Stoic substance ignores this crucial personal dimension in Paul's theology.

Therefore, we need to refine, rather than fully accept, Enberg-Pedersen's argument. He correctly reminds us to pay attention to the material aspect of *pneuma*, but his interpretation overemphasizes its continuity with Stoicism, failing to adequately consider the personal qualities of *pneuma* as described by Paul and the radical newness brought about by the Christ event. For the careful reader, the path to the most thorough understanding may lie in holding this tension: acknowledging that *pneuma* has material implications in its ancient context, while at the same time recognizing its personal role in Paul's letters.

Take this debate seriously

It must be clarified here that to benefit from this discussion, we do not need to fully accept Enberg-Pedersen's argument, nor do we need to assert that Paul was a Stoic (in fact, Enberg-Pedersen never demanded this). As Christians, if we value God's word (in this instance, what Paul actually said), we must remain open to the possibility that our understanding of pneuma may be insufficient and require correction or deepening. Enberg-Pedersen's argument may not be entirely correct, but he raises a question worthy of serious consideration:Does modern cultural presupposition cause us to overlook certain aspects that Paul originally intended to convey?

When translating "pneuma," using transliteration can be a means to help us take this issue seriously. This does not force us to accept any particular conclusion, but rather creates a space where we can pause and ask, "What exactly does Paul mean by 'pneuma' here?" This questioning attitude is precisely what it means to strive for greater faithfulness to the Bible, acknowledging that God's revelation may be richer and deeper than we understand, and allowing the biblical text to challenge us rather than simply confirming what we already think we know.

It is worth noting that using transliteration when translating *pneuma* in the Pauline epistles is particularly compelling. This is because we can quite specifically identify Paul's audience (Jewish and Gentile communities in the Greco-Roman world of the first century) and the historical context in which he wrote (a period when Stoicism and medical theories were prevalent). In this specific historical context, Paul's audience had a much closer understanding of the rich cultural connotations of *pneuma* than modern readers.Therefore, at least for Paul's epistles, translating using a transliteration ("pneuma") instead of an interpretation as "spirit" can help us avoid anachronisms and more faithfully grasp what Paul intended to convey.

Summarize

Ultimately, when translating *pneuma*, choosing transliteration is not an act of laziness or an evasion of the translator's duty; rather, it is an expression of greater faithfulness to the original text. This inspires us to continue exploring, allowing Paul himself to illuminate the true meaning of *pneuma* for us. Through this process of exploration, we not only come to know Paul more deeply but also come to know more deeply the God who speaks to people through him.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Rethinking Pneuma in Paul

When the Apostle Paul wrote πνεῦμα, what did he have in mind? For most modern readers, the answer seems straightforward: human or holy spirit, that is, the Third Person of the Trinity, a divine agent of comfort, conviction, and power. This theological reading is so natural that it feels obvious, and it is almost instinctive to readers and translators. But recently, this translation has been challenged. This article seeks to discuss what those objections are and explore the possibility of translating πνεῦμα differently.

The history of modern scholarship shows a persistent tension between theological and historical approaches. In the early 20th century, Hermann Gunkel proposed dichotomies that separated Pauline spirit from its Old Testament and Hellenistic Jewish roots and framed it as “supernatural” versus natural. This move proved to be influential as this framework was adopted by important figures like Rudolf Bultmann and Ernst Käsemann, whose deeply Lutheran readings further solidified a “spiritualizing” interpretation that prioritized inner, subjective religious experience. In this stream of scholarship, spirit became synonymous with the inner life of faith, often at the expense of its cosmic and corporeal dimensions.

At the end of the 20th century, a significant corrective emerged, with scholars who insisted on a more historically grounded, “physicalist” reading. Dale Martin's The Corinthian Body (1995) was groundbreaking, showing how Paul’s audience understood bodies and spirits within a holistic ancient cosmology where the physical and spiritual were intertwined. Troels Engberg-Pedersen then argued in Cosmology and Self in the Apostle Paul (2010) for reading Pauline spirit through a Stoic lens, as the cosmic, intelligent “breath” that constitutes and unifies all matter. These works represent a major shift, taking Paul's materialism seriously. This means setting aside our post-Cartesian idea of “spirit” as a non-material, private feeling, and recovering the ancient, concrete understanding of spirit as a physical substance. For these scholars, the most helpful key to this recovery is Stoic philosophy, the dominant intellectual framework of Paul's Greco-Roman world.

Why a Stoic, Material Pneuma?

For the Stoics, spirit is not a ghost or immaterial being. It is the cosmic life-force, an intelligent mixture of air and fire that permeates and structures the universe. It is the tension in a rope, the growth in a plant, the rational mind of a human, and the substance of the stars. spirit is divine, rational, and utterly material. It constitutes a hierarchy of being, from dense rocks to rarified gods, with no unbridgeable chasm between the physical and the divine.

Engberg-Pedersen argues that Paul's audiences—Jew and Gentile alike—breathed this intellectual air. When Paul spoke of spirit, they would have heard echoes of this cosmic, animating substance. The automatic translation of pneuma as a disembodied “Spirit” is therefore an anachronism, importing a modern mind/body dualism that would have been foreign to Paul. To read him correctly, Engberg-Pedersen contends, we must take his physical language literally: spirit is a stuff that can be poured, drunk, and infused; it transforms the believer from the inside out via a tangible, physiological reality.

　　Viewing pneuma through this Stoic, materialist lens dramatically reshapes how we read familiar passages. Consider first Paul’s discussion of the resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15:44-45. Here Paul contrasts the “natural body” (σῶμα ψυχικόν) sown in death with the “spiritual body” (σῶμα πνευματικόν) raised in life, culminating in his striking declaration that the risen Christ became a “life-giving spirit." The conventional reading understands the "spiritual body" as a glorified, immortal body oriented by the Holy Spirit, with Christ either possessing the Spirit or being accompanied by him. But Engberg-Pedersen offers a different perspective by connecting this passage to Paul's earlier mention of heavenly bodies like the sun and moon in 1 Corinthians 15:40-41. He argues that for Paul, a σῶμα πνευματικόν is a body actually made of spirit-stuff, analogous to the Stoic understanding of stars as composed of this refined, divine substance. Thus Christ, as the “last Adam,” has not merely received the Spirit; rather, his resurrected mode of existence is spirit itself. He becomes the source of that life-giving, material substance that will ultimately reconstitute believers. In this reading, resurrection is not merely a restoration of life but a physical transformation into an entirely new, pneumatic order of being.

A second example comes from Romans 5:5, where Paul writes that “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (spirit) who has been given to us” (NIV). The conventional reading takes this as a beautiful metaphor for the internal, emotional assurance of God's love provided by the Holy Spirit. But the materialist reading reveals something more literal. Following ancient medical theories known as Pneumatism, pneuma was understood as an external substance drawn into the body through breathing, processed by the heart, and then channeled through the arteries to govern thoughts and actions. When Paul speaks of spirit being “poured into our hearts,” he may be describing an actual physiological process: the divine spirit is literally infused into the cardiac center of the believer, physically altering his/her constitution and enabling him/her to act in accordance with God's love. The change, in this view, is simultaneously cognitive and corporeal—a transformation of the whole person, inside and out.

Scholarly Pushback: Two Major Critiques

While this view is gaining momentum, this materialist thesis has faced criticism from other leading scholars. John Barclay and John Levison pinpoint two major tensions in Engberg-Pedersen's proposal.

　　Barclay argues that Engberg-Pedersen’s model, for all its philosophical precision, misses the core of Paul’s theology: the radical, disruptive newness of the Christ event. For Paul, the spirit is not a pre-existing cosmic substance simply transferred from heaven to earth. It is an unprecedented, eschatological entity unleashed by Christ’s resurrection, a “new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). Regarding 1 Corinthians 15, Barclay disputes the claim that “heavenly bodies” such as the sun, moon, and stars are explicitly called “pneumatic.” Paul’s point, he contends, is God’s power to give each its own kind of body, not to outline a Stoic scala naturae or hierarchy of being. The “life-giving spirit” in verse 45 is the power of resurrection itself, not a higher-grade cosmic material. To reduce it to Stoic physics, Barclay warns, is to turn the resurrection into a mere “reordering of already-existing cosmic elements.”

However, it is important to avoid imposing modern, dualist categories of “spiritual vs. material” onto Paul altogether. As such, to transliterate spirit is precisely a tool to suspend our theological assumptions long enough to hear Paul on his own terms. Using this tool, we can see that Paul describes the new life in Christ using the best available language of his day for a transformative power, namely, the language of a divine, life-altering substance. This does not require us to claim that Paul was a Stoic or that the spirit is “just” medical spirit. It simply asserts that this was the conceptual tool Paul employed to articulate the very ineffable newness that Barclay wants to protect. The “newness” resides in the salvific action of God in Christ; the mechanism of description, however, is the contemporary materialist framework of the first-century world.

　　Levison, For his part, he agrees that spirit has a concrete dimension but charges Engberg-Pedersen with a selective and sometimes strained use of Stoicism, while neglecting the richer parallels in Paul's Jewish heritage. He raises two specific concerns. First, the Stoic models Engberg-Pedersen employs, such as the cosmic conflagration (ἔκπυρωσις) or a passing comment from Cicero on divination, do not convincingly explain the ongoing, transformative work of spirit in believers. Meanwhile, actual Stoic accounts of inspiration, such as those describing the oracle at Delphi, portray spirit as a terrestrial vapor or breeze, not as a substance flowing through preached words. Second, and more centrally, Levison points to the dearth of engagement with Jewish texts where spirit is also depicted as both concrete and cognitive. He cites the “spirit” placed upon the elders to govern (Nm 11:25), the “excellent spirit” of wisdom in Daniel (Dn 5:12), and the spirit that besieges Elihu, forcing out wise speech (Jb 32:18-20). The Dead Sea Scrolls, too, present a transformed community and granted knowledge by the spirit. For Levison, this Jewish matrix provides a more direct and likely foreground for Paul's thinking than an abstracted Stoic physics.

Setting aside Levison's misguided dichotomy of Judaism and the Greco-Roman world (see Hengel's Judaism and Hellenism, which has become a scholarly consensus; one cannot separate Judaism from its surrounding culture), there is a way to honor Levison's concerns while retaining materialist insight. Medicine, after all, was a shared cultural vernacular across the Hellenistic world, including Judea. A Hellenistic Jew like Paul could easily integrate the Jewish concept of spirit (understood as God's powerful, life-giving breath) with contemporary medical understandings of spirit as an animating bodily substance. To argue for a “medical” spirit, then, is not to choose “Greek” over “Jewish.” Rather, it is to identify the common intellectual currency through which Jewish theological concepts could be understood in physical terms. This provides a more satisfying answer to Levison's critique: the physicality of pneuma in Paul needs not come exclusively from Stoic philosophy. It could just as plausibly emerge from the synthesis of Jewish theology and the widespread biomedical concepts that permeated the ancient Mediterranean world, not dissimilar from what Philo did in his work.

Synthesis: What is at Stake?

Here we must acknowledge that spirit may indeed carry Stoic connotations. Engberg-Pedersen correctly observes that for Paul's first-century audience, the word spirit would have evoked a material, cosmic, life-giving substance. Yet we must also attend to the limits of Engberg-Pedersen's argument. spirit in Paul's letters is not merely Stoic cosmic matter. Certain passages attribute unmistakably personal actions to spirit: it “intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Rom 8:26 NABS); it “apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Cor 12:11 ESV); it can be “grieved” (Eph 4:30). These are not things that a mere material “substance” can do; they imply a person with emotions, will, and relational capacity. spirit Entirely to Stoic matter is to miss this crucial personal dimension in Paul's theology.

Thus, Engberg-Pedersen's thesis requires correction, not wholesale acceptance. He rightly alerts us to the material dimension of spirit, but his model overemphasizes Stoic continuity and fails to fully account for the personhood Paul attributes to spirit and the radical newness introduced by the Christ event. For careful readers, the path to the richest understanding may lie precisely in holding this tension: recognizing the concrete, material connotations of spirit in its ancient context while also acknowledging its personal role in Paul's letters.

Taking the Debate Seriously

An important clarification is necessary here: we need not fully accept Engberg-Pedersen's thesis, nor must we claim that Paul was a Stoic, in order to benefit from this discussion (in fact, Engberg-Pedersen never made such a claim). As Christians, if we care about God's word, in this case what Paul actually said, we must remain open to the possibility that our understanding of spirit may be incomplete and need correction or enrichment. Engberg-Pedersen's argument may not be entirely correct, but he has raised a question worth taking seriously: Have our modern cultural assumptions caused us to miss certain dimensions of what Paul originally intended to communicate?

Transliterating spirit is precisely the tool that helps us take this question seriously. It does not force us to accept any particular conclusion, but rather creates a space where we can pause and ask: “What did Paul mean when he used the word spirit here?" This questioning is an act of greater faithfulness to Scripture. It acknowledges that God's revelation may be richer and deeper than we have yet understood, and it allows the biblical text to challenge us rather than merely confirming what we already think we know.

It is worth noting that this practice of transliterating pneuma is particularly compelling in the case of Paul's letters. This is because we can identify with reasonable specificity both Paul's audience (communities of Jews and Gentiles in the first-century Greco-Roman world) and his historical context (a period when Stoicism and medical theories were prevalent). In this particular historical setting, Paul's listeners would have understood spirit in ways far closer to the word's rich cultural connotations than modern readers do. Therefore, at least in the case of Paul's letters, using the transliteration pneuma rather than translating it as “Spirit” can better help us avoid anachronism and more faithfully hear what Paul intended to communicate.

Conclusion

In the end, transliterating spirit is not an act of laziness or an evasion of the translator's task. It is an expression of deeper faithfulness to the text. It invites us into an ongoing exploration, allowing Paul himself to tell us what his spirit truly means. In the course of this exploration, we come to know better not only Paul but also the God who spoke through him.

Chi-yeung Lam

Assistant Professor, Christian Education

藍志揚

Assistant Professor of Christian Education

God beyond "presupposition"

What do Martha and Mary need?

John chapter 11 recounts the miracle of Lazarus' resurrection. The text states that when Jesus and his disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had been buried for four days, and relatives and friends from all over had come to offer their condolences. Martha, hearing of Jesus' arrival, rushed out of the village to meet him; when Mary saw Jesus, she fell at his feet and wept, saying, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." This echoed Martha's earlier words, expressing regret over Jesus' "late" arrival.

Martha and Mary firmly believed that Jesus could heal the seriously ill, but their understanding was limited to a "limited resurrection." They never considered that Jesus could raise someone who had been dead for four days, even decomposing, before the end of the world. They imposed a time limit on Jesus, believing that it was only possible "earlier," and that "now" was too late. This kind of thinking limited Jesus' abilities to some extent.

Martha and Mary were not unaware of the resurrection stories. In the Old Testament, Elijah and Elisha both raised the dead; in the New Testament, Jesus raised Jairus' daughter and the widow's son from the dead. As Jesus' close friends, they should have known that Jesus possessed the power to transcend death. However, when suffering befell their own family, they fell into negative thinking, believing that "late" meant "impossible and irreversible." This reaction is indeed a common human experience. Perhaps, in our own difficulties, we too have set limits for God: "If only it had been sooner..." or "If only then..." These thoughts often stem from certain preconceived notions we hold about God.

Fellowship and Cultivating Resilience

Lazarus was miraculously resurrected, but this miracle is, after all, an exception. In real life, most people still have to face the long years after the death of loved ones and how to continue living in grief.

The "Socioemotional Selection Theory" suggests that individuals who experience significant life events (such as pandemics or disasters) may undergo a marked shift in mindset: they begin to focus their lives on behaviors that are emotionally meaningful, and tend to interact more with close family and friends. This selective social pattern, while seemingly shrinking one's social circle, actually strengthens the quality and depth of emotional support. This view aligns with the experiences of faith-based communities.A deep fellowship is essential for building psychological resilience. When we go beyond superficial pleasantries in church and establish genuine connections between lives, this support system can become our refuge in the storms of life.

Prayer and Life Resilience

A six-year follow-up study of chronic disease patients in the United States has revealed a link between prayer and resilience.^* After controlling for multiple variables, the study found that patients who prayed daily had a significantly higher survival rate six years later than those who did not pray regularly. While the exact mechanisms still require further investigation, researchers infer that the "sense of hope" derived from prayer is a key factor. When believers consistently entrust things beyond their control (such as their illness) to God in prayer, this repeated affirmation and surrender brings peace and release to the soul. Physiologically, this helps reduce the release of stress hormones and mitigate their negative impact on health. This reminds us that prayer is not only a spiritual exercise but also the foundation of holistic health.In prayer, we acknowledge our limitations while simultaneously experiencing God's infinity and presence.

Eye movement therapy

Besides fellowship and prayer, modern psychology offers practical methods for building emotional resilience, such as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). Twenty years ago, discussing EMDR might have been misunderstood, as the therapist's fingers moved from side to side in front of the patient's eyes, resembling a folk religious ritual. However, the origin of this therapy is actually very relatable: its founder, Francine Shapiro, discovered while walking in a park that her negative emotions significantly decreased when her eyes moved rhythmically left and right following the scenery. She then conducted years of clinical trials, and this treatment method gradually gained acceptance in the medical community. This offers a practical insight: when you find yourself caught in negative emotions, even overwhelmed by grief like Martha and Mary, try following Shapiro's example—take a walk in a park and let your eyes naturally move left and right, looking at the scenery around you. This simple action should help alleviate emotions. (Of course, if you find your emotional problems worsening, be sure to seek professional medical or psychological counseling.)

The term "resilience" has garnered significant attention in recent years, and it's been hailed as a key word for 2025 in mainland China. This reflects the anxiety and unease many people experience in uncertain external environments, which can even impact their personal lives and group collaborations. Deep down, we all yearn to be independent of our circumstances and continue moving forward. Looking back at the story of Lazarus, Martha and Mary witnessed miracles beyond their wildest imaginations.May we build resilience in body, mind, and spirit through fellowship and the practice of personal prayer.

____________________________________________

^* Gail Ironson and Salman Shaheen Ahmad, “Frequency of Private Prayer Predicts Survival Over 6 Years in a Nationwide US Sample of Individuals with a Chronic Illness,” Journal of Religion and Health 63.4 (August 2024): 2910-2923 [Online article]; taken from Springer Nature Link webpage (https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-023-01870-z); accessed on March 1, 2026.

God is beyond Our “Assumptions”

What did Martha and Mary need?

John 11 records the miracle of Lazarus' resurrection. By the time Jesus and His disciples arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days, and relatives and friends had gathered to offer their condolences. When Martha heard of Jesus' coming, she hurried out of the village to meet Him. When Mary saw Jesus, she fell at His feet and wept, saying, "Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died." These words echoed Martha's earlier statement, expressing sorrow over what seemed to be Jesus' ’delayed arrival.’

Martha and Mary were convinced that Jesus could heal serious illnesses, though their understanding of resurrection was limited. They never imagined that Jesus could raise someone before the last day, even one who had been dead for four days and whose body had already begun to decay. They assumed there was a time limit to His power, believing healing was possible only if He had arrived “early,” and that “now” was already too late. In this way, their thinking reveals they perceived Jesus' power to be restricted in this way.

However, Martha and Mary were familiar with the stories of resurrection. In the Old Testament, Elijah and Elisha raise the dead; in the New Testament, Jesus raises Jairus' daughter and the widow's son at Nain. As close friends of Jesus, they surely knew that He possessed power over death. However, when suffering struck their own family, in their grief, they fell into a negative mindset, believing that ’delayed“ meant ”impossible“ or ”irreversible.“ That is a very human response. Perhaps, in our own struggles, we too assume limits to God: ”If only it sooner happened …“ or ”If only we had acted back then …“ These thoughts often stem from certain ”assumptions“ we hold about God.

Fellowship and Resilience

Lazarus was miraculously raised from the dead, but after all, this event is an exception. In everyday life, most people must endure the long years that follow the loss of loved ones and seek ways to continue despite their grief.

The Socioemotional Selectivity Theory (SST) suggests that when individuals encounter major life events—such as a pandemic or natural disaster—their mindset may undergo a significant shift: they refocus on emotionally meaningful behaviors and tend to deepen ties with close friends and family. While this selective social pattern may appear to narrow one's social circle, it actually enhances the quality and depth of emotional support. This dynamic closely parallels the experience of faith communities. A meaningful fellowship life is precisely what nourishes psychological resilience. When we go beyond superficial small talk and build genuine, heart-to-heart connections in church, this support system becomes our refuge in the storm of life.

Prayer and Resilience

A six-year longitudinal study of patients with chronic illnesses in the United States revealed a positive link between prayer and resilience. ^* After controlling for a range of variables, the study found that patients who engaged in daily private prayer had a significantly higher survival rate than those who prayed less frequently. Although the mechanism requires further investigation, researchers suggested that the “sense of hope” derived from prayer may play a key role. When believers consistently entrust matters beyond their control—such as illness—to God in prayer, this repeated affirmation and entrustment foster peace and consolation. Physiologically, such practices help lower stress hormone levels, thereby reducing negative health impacts. This reminds us that prayer is not only a spiritual discipline but also the foundation of holistic well-being. In prayer, we admit our own limits while simultaneously experiencing God's infinite power and presence.

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing

In addition to fellowship and prayer, modern psychology has developed practical methods for fostering emotional resilience, such as Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). If we talked about EMDR twenty years ago, it might be misunderstood, because during the therapy, the therapist moves his or her fingers back and forth in front of the patient's eyes, somewhat like a ritual performed in folk religions. Yet its origins are simple: its founder, Francine Shapiro, was once taking a walk in the park when she accidentally discovered that As her eyes moved rhythmically from side to side, her negative emotions noticeably diminished. She subsequently conducted years of clinical trials, and this therapeutic approach has gained recognition in the medical community. This offers us a practical insight: when you feel stuck in negative emotions—or even overwhelmed by grief, as Martha and Mary were—you might follow Shapiro's example and take a walk in the park, allowing your eyes to move naturally from side to side as you observe the scenery. Such a simple act may help gradually help ease your emotions. (Of course, if distress becomes severe, seek professional medical or psychological counseling.)

The term “resilience” has gained significant attention in recent years and topped the list of buzzwords of 2025 in mainland China. This reflects the reality that many people are navigating uncertain external environments, experiencing anxiety and unease that may impact both their personal lives and collective cooperation. Deep down, we long to break free from circumstantial constraints and continue moving forward. Reflecting on the story of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary, we find a miracle beyond their imaginations. May we cultivate resilience in mind, body, and spirit through fellowship and personal prayer, finding strength in God together.

____________________________________________

^* Gail Ironson and Salman Shaheen Ahmad, “Frequency of Private Prayer Predicts Survival Over 6 Years in a Nationwide US Sample of Individuals with a Chronic Illness,” Journal of Religion and Health 63.4 (August 2024): 2910-2923 [article online]; available from Springer Nature Link website (https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-023-01870-z); accessed 1 March 2026.

Curie Qu

Assistant Professor, Christian Thought

璩理

Assistant Professor of Christian Thought

Three types of suffering

Whenever a major global disaster occurs, theodicy often resurfaces in religious communities for repeated discussions. Due to the impact of the disaster, these discussions are often tinged with strong emotions, making it difficult to remain calm and rational. In today's world, information flows exceptionally rapidly; a single careless statement by a believer can trigger sensitive emotions among disaster victims and the general public. Therefore, when reflecting on and discussing these issues, we should first pray, asking God to grant us a compassionate heart, a wise mind, and a careful tongue.

In God's order of creation, three main types of suffering can be identified:(1)Moral sin:Crimes committed by humans through the abuse of free will, such as massacre, theft, and betrayal;(2)Natural disasters:Disasters that cannot be avoided even with the best preventative measures, such as earthquakes, fires, and car accidents;(3)Suffering in life:Whether caused by human or natural factors, misfortune will always befall some people, such as the pain of losing a loved one, physical disability, and depression. These three types of suffering are not completely separate, but rather overlap and intertwine.

Faith Challenge

These sufferings are real and often touch the very foundation of our faith. Believers and non-believers alike can challenge the Christian faith from these three angles:(1)Logical problem:The statement "God is omnipotent and all-good" is logically incompatible with the statement "sin exists".(2)Empirical question:The existence of suffering is evidence that denies the existence of God—either God does not exist, or God is not omnipotent or all-good;(3)Existing problems:Setting aside purely rational debates, we are in fact entangled in various forms of suffering, prompting sighs like, "This is meaningless!" and "This shouldn't have happened! At least not to me!"

In response to challenges from both logical and empirical perspectivesLeibniz(GW Leibniz) argues that our real world, despite its suffering, is "the best possible world." God, as an omniscient, omnipotent, and all-good being, created this world with the best intentions. The existence of evil and suffering in this world is also for the purpose of achieving a greater good or a longer-term endeavor.Hegel(GWF Hegel) also holds a similar view, believing that suffering is a necessary condition for achieving a higher good. Leibniz and Hegel responded by taking a detached, purely rational approach, away from real-world disasters.Such a response may be rationally valid, but for those who are suffering in reality, "rationalizing" all their suffering may simultaneously abstract or even "nihilize" their specific suffering.Those still suffering from the disaster might ask: Is my current difficulty a "necessary price" or "necessary means" for God to achieve the greatest good? Am I just a pawn that can be sacrificed in God's grand game of victory?

Suffering is suffering

"The way of Heaven is far, but the way of man is near." If logical and empirical responses seem too distant (they are not unimportant, but they may not fit the specific circumstances of the sufferers), then we might as well start from a third perspective, that is, to face the real suffering from the perspective of the actual living conditions.From the perspective of the sufferersFirst, we cannot abstract the issue of suffering as we did in the previous two perspectives, that is, start from a general concept of suffering and argue for its inevitability at the level of theoretical thinking; instead, we must face up to and seriously consider real suffering, and treat suffering as suffering itself. Secondly,Do not try to find a seemingly "spiritually correct" explanation for every real suffering."This is God asking you to let go of everything and look solely to Him," and "In pain, you will experience God's grace and care more truly." Some suffering may be meaningless and entirely negative. We don't know why it happens, or why it happens to someone. If we insist on trying to understand and find a rational explanation for every specific suffering, we can easily make the same mistake as Job's three friends. We can...Weep with those who weep.You could also share the Book of Job with those who are grieving, or the life stories of author Xing Linzi (Liu Xia) or evangelist and motivational speaker Nick Vujicic. This might help and comfort them. Of course, this might not work, because there is always a significant gap between other people's stories of suffering and one's own personal experience of suffering.

Endurance and Hope

Martin Luther, in his later years, lost his beloved thirteen-year-old daughter. He said, "It's a strange feeling. I know she's with the Father, and everything is fine, yet I can't help but grieve." He also quoted Matthew 26:41, lamenting that "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Because we are physically weak, we may question God in suffering, become angry with Him, and be unable to utter words of thanksgiving and praise in prayer—this is human nature—we are all inherently so weak. But on the other hand, we should also see:These flickering lights and bruised reeds, as long as they are not extinguished or broken, life must go on and faith must be regained. Even if some lights are truly extinguished and some reeds are truly broken, that is not the final end—at the end of the road, there is the Lord who rose from the dead, waiting for us to return to our eternal heavenly home.

Three Kinds of Suffering

Whenever a major disaster occurs, faith communities often engage in renewed discussions of theodicy. Under the weight of disaster, such discussions tend to become emotionally charged, making it difficult to maintain a calm and rational spirit. In today's world, information spreads with unprecedented speed. Even the slightest misstep in a believer's words can provoke strong emotions among disaster victims and the public. Therefore, as we reflect on and discuss these issues, we must first pray, asking God to grant us compassionate hearts, wise minds, and cautious tongues.

In God's creation order, three major categories of suffering can be identified: (1) moral evils: sins committed by humans through the misuse of their free will, such as murder, theft, and betrayal; (2) natural disasters: calamities that cannot be avoided even with the best preventive measures, such as earthquakes, fires, and traffic accidents; (3) the sorrows of life: whether stemming from human or natural causes, misfortune inevitably befalls some people, such as bereavement, physical disabilities, and depression. These three categories of suffering are, of course, not strictly separate but overlap and intertwine.

Challenges to Christian Faith

Suffering and these evils are a reality that often shakes the very foundations of our faith. Both believers and non-believers may challenge the Christian faith from these three perspectives: (1) the logical problem: statement 1, “God is omnipotent and perfectly good,” and statement 2, “Evil exists,” are logically incompatible; (2) the evidential problem: the existence of evil serves as evidence against God's existence—either God does not exist, or God is not omnipotent or perfectly good; (3) the existential problem: setting aside purely rational arguments, we are in fact beset by various forms of suffering, leading us to exclaim, “This is meaningless!” or “This shouldn't be happening! At least, it shouldn't be happening to me!”

In response to the challenges from the logic and evidential problems, GW Leibniz argues that the actual world, despite the existence of suffering, is still “the best of all possible worlds.” As an omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly good being, God created this world with the best intentions. The existence of evil and suffering in this world serves to realize a greater good or a long-term purpose. GWF Hegel holds a similar view, arguing that suffering is a necessary condition for the realization of a higher good. Both Leibniz and Hegel adopted a detached, purely rational approach that distanced themselves from the realities of disaster. While such responses may be valid on rational grounds, for those suffering in real life, “rationalizing” may abstract—or even “nullify”—their concrete experience of suffering. Those still plagued by disaster may well ask: Is my current hardship merely the “necessary cost” or “necessary means” for God to achieve the greatest good? Am I simply a disposable pawn in God's grand chess game that He will win in the end?

Seeing Suffering as Suffering

As an old Chinese saying goes, “the way of heaven is distant, but the way of humans is near.” If responses to the logic and evidential problems seem too abstract (not that they are unimportant, but that they may not fully address the circumstances of sufferers), we might approach the issue from a third perspective: viewing the concrete suffering as lived reality. From the perspective of those who suffer, we must first avoid abstracting the problem of suffering as the previous two approaches tend to do—starting with a general concept of suffering and arguing theoretically for its inevitability. Instead, we must face and take real suffering seriously, addressing suffering on its own terms. Second, we must not force a seemingly “spiritually correct” explanation onto every real suffering: "God wants you to let go of everything and look to Him alone," or "In your pain, you will experience God's grace and care more deeply." Some suffering may simply be gratuitous. We do not know why it occurs, nor why it afflicts a particular person. If we insist on assuming the role of an all-knowing interpreter who must find a rational explanation for every instance of suffering, we risk repeating the error made by Job's three friends. In fact, we can mourn with those who mourn. We can share with the grieving people the story of Job, or the life stories of the writer Xing Linzi (Liu Xia) and the evangelist and motivational speaker Nick Vujicic. This may help them and bring them comfort. Of course, it may not work because there is always a deep divide between accounts of others' suffering and the suffering one endures firsthand.

Endurance and Hope

When Martin Luther lost his beloved thirteen-year-old daughter in his later years, he said, "It's strange to know that she is surely at peace and that she is well off there, very well off, and yet to grieve so much!" He also quoted Matthew 26:41, lamenting, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Because our flesh is weak, we may question God in the midst of suffering, grow angry with Him, and find ourselves unable to utter words of thanksgiving and praise. in prayer. This is only human—we are all inherently weak in this way. But on the other hand, we must also recognize this: As long as the smoldering wicks have not yet been quenched and the bruised reeds have not been broken, life must go on, and faith must be restored. Even if some wicks have indeed been extinguished, and some reeds have truly been broken, that is not the end—at the end of the road, the Lord who has risen from the dead awaits us there, ready to welcome us into our eternal heavenly home.

Nathan Ng

Associate Dean (Academic Affairs), Professor of Christian Thought (Church History)

吳國傑

Vice President (Academic Affairs)
Professor of Christian Thought (Church History)

The early church during the catastrophe

Christianity has faced various forms of oppression and calamity from its inception. Since the Roman Emperor Nero (37-68 AD) set fire to the city and blamed the Christians, the Church became an illegal organization suppressed by the Roman Empire. Simply adhering to the belief in Christ was enough to warrant a death sentence. In the early 2nd century, the governor Pliny the Younger (61-113 AD) wrote to Emperor Trajan (53-117 AD), asking how to deal with Christians, saying: "If someone is accused of being a Christian before me, I will take these actions: I will first ask them if they are Christians; if they admit it, I will ask them two or three more times, and threaten them with punishment; if they still insist, I will order their execution."¹ Tajanu replied that Perinyu "has taken the right path," but reminded him: "If anyone denies that he is a Christian, he must be thoroughly verified to make sure that he is a worshipper of our gods."²

Constantine the Great (272-337 AD) issued the Edict of Milan in 313 AD.Edictum MediolanenseFor over two centuries prior, Christians suffered countless cruel persecutions. Some were crucified en masse, some were burned as torches, some were mauled to death by lions in the Colosseum, and children were draped in animal skins and torn apart by rabid dogs. Emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) incited mobs to attack the Church; during his reign, Christians "endured the various humiliations that a frenzied mob usually inflicts on their enemies and adversaries."³ Emperor Decius (201-252 AD) demanded that all the people of the country "offer sacrifices, libations, and taste sacrificial meat" to the Roman gods as proof of their faith, and those who disobeyed would be subjected to torture.⁴ Emperor Diocletian (245-311 AD) went so far as to order the "leveling of churches and burning of Bibles." Faced with Christians who were not afraid of death, he "imprisoned church leaders in various places and then used every means to force them to sacrifice," intending to destroy the faith of the believers.⁵

Early Godfather's Reminder

As can be seen from the extant writings of the early Church Fathers, the early Church, suffering prolonged and brutal persecution and mired in hardship, did not develop bitterness, resentment, or despair; on the contrary, believers often faced the situation positively from a spiritual perspective, trusting in Christ and hoping for future glory. The teachings of these Church Fathers regarding calamity and suffering can be summarized into the following three points:

1. The Lord is with us in times of calamity, bringing comfort to the suffering saints:As the Roman elder Hippolytus (c. 170-235 AD) said, persecution and calamity stemmed from the Antichrist’s attack on the saints, but believers could look to “the Lord appearing from heaven.”⁶ Such revelation can turn danger into opportunity for saints—either by gaining the ability to endure suffering or by seeing the Lord after martyrdom.
2. Death is not the end of life, but a beautiful moment of temporary rest:Tertullian (c. 155-220 AD) interpreted Matthew 6:6 as referring to the "inner chamber" as a prefigurement of the tomb, where those who die under the ultimate and fierce attack of the Antichrist can rest for a while.⁷ Therefore, saints need not fear suffering and death; rather, they should yearn for being with the Lord after death.
3. Saints who persevere through calamity will receive a crown of glory:When Irenaeus (c. 125-202 AD) explained the great tribulation described in Matthew 24:21, he stated that "this is the last test for the righteous, and the one who overcomes will receive an immortal crown."⁸ Therefore, what saints should fear is not disaster, but the weakness and fall in faith due to persecution, thus losing their heavenly blessings.

　　按照以上理解，聖徒可存喜樂的心積極面對各種逼迫災難，就如使徒教父著作《黑馬牧人書》（Pastor Hermae）所說：「那些在將要來臨的大災難中堅忍的人應當歡喜快樂」。⁹ They value the eternal spiritual life in heaven far more than the fleeting physical life on earth; this principle is something they learned from the example of the suffering and death of the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is much suffering in the world today. Some suffering is clearly caused by faith, and in these cases, the teachings of the Church Fathers can provide appropriate encouragement. However, the causes of suffering are not always readily apparent. Internationally, wars cause countless deaths and displacements; regionally, man-made disasters separate families and destroy homes. These pains are real and deeply lamentable. Regardless, the teachings of the early Church Fathers remind believers not to focus solely on this fleeting world, but to look with spiritual eyes to the eternal future; to believe...Disasters are merely temporary trials; Christ is our ever-present help.Physical suffering or even death is not terrible; as long as one perseveres through disaster, one will receive the reward of heavenly glory.

____________________________________________

¹ Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.96.
² Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.97.
³ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 5.1.
⁴ George Milligan, Greek Papyri (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1912), no. 48.
⁵ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 8.2.
⁶ Hippolytus, Commentariorum in Danielem 2.7.
⁷ Tertullian, De Carne Christi 4.27.
⁸ Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses 5.29.1.
⁹ Pastor Hermae, vision 2.2.

The Early Church in Tribulation

From its inception, Christianity faced oppression and tribulation of varying degrees. After the Roman Emperor Nero (37-68 AD) set fire to Rome and put the blame on the Christians, the Church became an outlawed organization under the Roman Empire. Christians, saying, “For the moment this is the line I have taken with all persons brought before me on the charge of being Christians. I have asked them in person if they are Christians, and if they admit it, I repeat the question a second and third time, with a warning of the punishment awaiting them. If they persist, I order them to be led away for execution.” ¹ Trajan responded, affirming that Pliny “had followed the right course of procedure,” while cautioning him: “in the case of anyone who denies that he is a Christian … make it clear that he is not by worshiping our gods.” ²

For over two centuries before Emperor Constantine the Great (272-337 AD) issued the Edictum Mediolanense in 313 AD, Christians endured countless brutal persecutions. Some were crucified en masse, burned, or torn apart by lions in the arena. Even children were clad in animal skins and devoured by rabid dogs. Emperor Marcus Aurelius (121-180 AD) incited mobs to attack the Church. During his reign, Christians “endured every kind of disgrace that frenzied mobs habitually inflicted upon their enemies and adversaries.” ³ Emperor Decius (201-252 AD) demanded that all citizens must “offer sacrifices, pour libations, and partake of the sacrificial meat” to the Roman gods as proof of their allegiance, threatening torture for those who refused. ⁴ Emperor Diocletian (245-311 AD) went further, ordering churches to be “leveled to the ground and the Scriptures burned.” To subdue Christians who feared no death, he “imprisoned church leaders throughout the empire and employed every means to force them to sacrifice,” aiming to shatter the faith of the Christian community. ⁵

Exhortations from the Early Church Fathers

It is evident from the extant writings of the early Church Fathers that the early Church, enduring prolonged brutal persecution and suffering, did not give rise to bitterness, resentment, or despair. On the contrary, believers consistently confronted adversity from a spiritual perspective, placing their trust in Christ and looking forward to future glory. The teachings of these Fathers regarding tribulation and suffering can be summarized in the following three exhortations:

1. The Lord is present in tribulation, bringing comfort to suffering saints: as the presbyter Hippolytus of Rome (c. 170-235 AD) stated, persecution and tribulation stem from the Antichrist's assault upon the saints, yet believers may look to “the Lord appearing from heaven.” ⁶ This manifestation enables the saints to turn adversity into victory—either gaining strength to endure suffering or beholding the Lord's face after martyrdom.
2. Death is not the end of life, but a beautiful moment of temporary rest: Tertullian (c. 155-220 AD) explained Matthew 6:6, noting that “your room” symbolizes the grave, where those who depart during the fierce final assault of the Antichrist may rest for a time. ⁷ Therefore, saints need not fear suffering or death; departing to be with the Lord is something to be longed for.
3. The saints who endure to the end in tribulation shall receive the crown of glory: Irenaeus (c. 125-202 AD), interpreting the great tribulation described in Matthew 24:21, explicitly states, “This is the final trial of the righteous, and those who overcome shall receive the crown of immortality.” ⁸ Therefore, what saints should fear is not tribulation itself, but rather any weakening or falling away in their faith due to persecution, causing them to lose their portion of heavenly blessings.

　　According to this understanding, saints can face all kinds of persecution and tribulations with joyful hearts, as stated in the Apostolic Father’s work Pastor Hermae: “Happy are you who endure the great tribulation that is at hand.” ⁹ They valued the eternal spiritual life in heaven far more than the fleeting physical life on earth. This principle is what they learned from the suffering and death of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Today, the world is filled with suffering. There are afflictions that we endure clearly for the sake of faith, and in such cases, the teachings of the Church Fathers offer believers fitting encouragement. Yet, for some cases of suffering, it is harder to discern the meaning. Internationally, wars claim countless lives and leave countless displaced; locally, human-made disasters tear families apart and lay waste to homes. However, the early Church Fathers reminded believers: do not fix your eyes solely on this fleeting world; instead, gaze with spiritual vision toward the eternal future, believing that tribulations are but temporary trials, and Christ is our ever-present help. Physical suffering, even death, need not be dreaded. By persevering to the end amid tribulations, one will receive the heavenly reward of glory.

____________________________________________

¹ Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.96.
² Pliny the Younger, Epistulae 10.97.
³ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 5.1.
⁴ George Milligan, Greek Papyri (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1912), no. 48.
⁵ Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 8.2.
⁶ Hippolytus, Commentariorum in Danielem 2.7.
⁷ Tertullian, De Carne Christi 4.27.
⁸ Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses 5.29.1.
⁹ Pastor Hermae, vision 2.2.

Bernard Leung

Associate Professor, New Testament

梁俊豪

Associate Professor of New Testament

Two reactions to the suffering

When we see others suffering, we typically react in two ways: First, like most people, we feel compassion, grieve for their misfortune, and thus care about their well-being; second, some of us can understand the suffering victim's perspective and empathize with their feelings. When the media widely reports on disasters, we naturally have the first reaction towards the victims. This compassion motivates us to care for, comfort, or provide assistance (such as donations) to the suffering victims, hoping to alleviate their suffering. However, does what we do truly help them? This is a question worth exploring. Excessive comfort may put pressure on the suffering victims; repeatedly talking about the disaster may also cause them secondary harm. In these compassionate actions, we often play the role of giver, standing behind a safety boundary to extend a helping hand to the recipient, but our perspectives and positions may not be the same. When media coverage decreases, we gradually lose understanding of the suffering victims' demands and situations, and our attention and compassion for them gradually diminish, and we may even judge their feelings by our own standards.

The second type of response is less familiar to us, requiring us to put ourselves in the shoes of the sufferers, adopt their perspective, and empathize with their plight. Setting aside our own viewpoints and deeply empathizing with the sufferers' perspective and emotional world best affirms their feelings and demonstrates our genuine humanity and solidarity. However, achieving this level of resonance is extremely demanding for most people, even for professionally trained counselors. If boundaries are overlooked during this process, it could potentially lead to depression or psychological trauma.

"Remember" and "Empathize"

However, the author of Hebrews in the New Testament calls on believers to respond to those persecuted for their faith with an attitude similar to the second one: "Remember those who are being mistreated, and feel their pain" (Hebrews 13:3, Universal Bible Translation). "Remember" follows the instruction in the first verse: "Remember those who are imprisoned," meaning not merely to consciously recall them, nor simply to express concern verbally, but to...Help them with concrete actions, continuously (this instruction is in the present tense).Similarly, "feeling the same way" parallels the phrase "as if I were in prison with them" in the first half of the text. Its original form is ὡς καὶ αὐτοὶ ὄντες ἐν σώματι, which is translated in the revised and new Chinese versions as "as if you were also personally subjected to abuse." The original ἐν σώματι ("physically") expresses...Completely agreeSuffering is based on our shared vulnerability and humanity, and our special connection with one another.

This human connection is fully revealed in Christ's redemptive work. Hebrews 2:11 points out that the Son of God, as High Priest, is "from the same source" as his people, whom he calls brothers. Since the people are "of flesh and blood," possessing vulnerable humanity, Christ also shares this humanity, "likewise becoming flesh and blood" (2:14), "being like his brothers in every way" (2:17), including "having suffered after being tempted" (2:18), and "helping those who are being tempted," in order to fulfill the High Priest's ministry of atonement for the people.

The author of Hebrews further describes the High Priest as being able to "sympathize with our weaknesses" (Hebrews 4:15). "Sympathy" (συνπαθῆσαι, or "compassion") is not merely a psychological feeling, but rather sharing the experience of human weakness, personally being "tempted in every way, just as we are." Christ, as the High Priest, does not stand high above pitying us, pitying our suffering from human weakness and temptation, unable to save ourselves; rather, Christ chooses to be "like us in every way" (Hebrews 2:17), even experiencing the same vulnerability as us. This is full participation in our human weakness, uniting with us.

　　Whether we can "remember" those who suffer and empathize with them depends on whether we have learned to be like Christ.Let go of your own identity, opinions, or perceived differences, and acknowledge, embody, and accept that you share the same vulnerable humanity as those who suffer. One of humanity's weaknesses is the avoidance of suffering, including one's own and others' suffering. However, ignoring the suffering of others, drawing lines for various reasons, and severing the connection between us is tantamount to believing that one's humanity is nobler, more divine, or more privileged than others'. To truly empathize and connect with those who suffer is to be connected with them as Christ was with us. Only then will our companionship and help have meaning.

Two Responses to Those Who Suffer

When we witness others suffering, we typically have two reactions: First, most people feel sympathy, grieving for their misfortune and thus caring about their well-being; second, some individuals can understand the sufferer's perspective, empathize with their feelings, and resonate with them. When disasters receive extensive media coverage, we naturally experience the first reaction toward the victims. This sympathy drives us to offer care, condolences, or aid (such as donations) to those suffering, hoping to alleviate their pain. However, does what we do truly help them? This is a question well worth exploring. Excessive expressions of condolences may place undue pressure on those suffering. Repeated discussion of the disaster may also cause secondary trauma. In these acts of sympathy, we often assume the role of benefactors, extending aid from a safe distance. Yet, our perspectives and positions may differ significantly from theirs. As media coverage diminishes, our understanding of the victims' needs and conditions gradually fades. Our attention and sympathy wane, and we may even judge their feelings based on Our own yardsticks.

The second type of response is less familiar to us, requiring us to put ourselves in their shoes, adopt the perspective of those suffering, and empathize deeply with their plight. Setting aside our own views and deeply immersing ourselves in the sufferer's perspective and emotional world best affirms their feelings and demonstrates our most genuine humanity and solidarity. However, such deep resonance is quite exhausting for most people—even professionally trained counselors. If boundaries are neglected during the process, it may even plunge one into depression or psychological distress.

“Remember” and “Since You Also Are in the Body”

Nonetheless, the Epistle of Hebrews urges believers to adopt an attitude akin to the second response toward those persecuted for their faith: “… and [remember] those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body” (13:3b ESV). The verb “remember” is in the tense present in Greek; accordingly, the NIV renders it as “Continue to remember …” The command denotes more than mere mental recollection or a verbal expression of concern, but a call to take concrete action to provide ongoing assistance to those in tragedy. This command to continue remembering those who are mistreated is grounded in the recognition that “you also are in the body,” indicating that all share in the weakness of bodily existence. This common humanity thus becomes the basis for solidarity with those who suffer.

This solidarity with others is fully revealed in Christ's redemptive work. Hebrews 2:11 states that the Son of God, as the High Priest, and the people who are called His brothers and sisters “all have one source.” "to help those who are being tempted" (2:18), thereby fulfilling the high priest's role of atoning for the people.

The author of Hebrews further the High Priest as one who is capable of “[sympathizing] with our weaknesses” (4:15). “To sympathize” (συνπαθῆσαι, NIV renders as “to empathize”) is not merely an emotional response, but a shared experience of human frailties, having been “in every respect … describes as we are” (4:15). Christ, as the High Priest, does not stand tempted aloof in a position of superiority, merely pitying with our plight as those who, in human frailty, fall into temptation and are unable to deliver themselves. Instead, He chose to be “made like [us] in every respect” (2:17), even to the point of experiencing the same frailties. This means full participation in our human weaknesses as an expression of solidarity with us.

　　Whether we can “remember” those who suffer and feel their pain as our own depends on whether we have learned to be like Christ—laying aside our own status, perspectives, or perceived differences, to acknowledge, embody, and accept that we share the same fragile humanity as those who are suffering. One weakness of human nature is the tendency to flee from pain—our own and that of others. However, to disregard the suffering of others by erecting boundaries through various justifications and severing the bonds that connect us amounts to the implicit claim that one's own humanity is more noble, more divine, and more entitled to protection than that of others. To share in the experience of others and to be joined with those who suffer, one must identify with them in the same way that Christ identifies with us. Only then does our companionship and aid hold meaning.

Fook-kong Wong

Associate Dean (Academic), Old Testament Professor

黃福光

Vice-President (Research)
Professor of Old Testament

Why did disaster strike?

When unfortunate events occur, many people ask, "Why?" In fact, many times, the direct causes of these events are things we already know. According to data from the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, a total of 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19.¹ The Tai Po fire, which occurred closer to us, has an official death toll of 168. Both disasters have had a profound impact on the people of Hong Kong, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic is caused by the novel coronavirus SARS-CoV-2, while the Tai Po fire has had multiple causes identified, none of which are mysterious or incomprehensible.

So why do we still ask "why" even when we know the direct cause of a disaster? It's probably because we not only want to know the cause of the calamity, but also yearn to understand its deeper meaning. In other words,We want to know why God allowed—or even facilitated—the disaster to happen.In the Bible, God conveys His will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams, and He also reveals Himself to humanity, personally delivering His word without ambiguity. However, these events are beyond human control—this is true in the Bible, and even more so today. Therefore, we cannot expect explanations for the current calamities from these means.

However, our existing Bible, an easily accessible and authoritative source, offers many explanations for why calamities occur. Reasons include attacks by evil spirits (e.g., Job), human sinfulness (e.g., Judges 19-21), foolish decisions by those involved (Proverbs 10:14, 14:16), and God's judgment (Deuteronomy 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 points out that life-threatening calamities (the original text reads "evil times") can suddenly befall anyone without warning; that is to say, in this fallen world, disaster is the norm and requires little explanation. From a more positive perspective, God may allow certain calamities to occur to teach or train us in righteousness (Deuteronomy 8:1-3; 1 Peter 1:6-7), or as part of our calling to suffer for the Kingdom of God (Matthew 5:10-12). These are all reasonable answers, but...The problem is that we may not be able to discern which is the correct answer for a given situation.Even if we think we understand, we might be wrong. Job's friend was like that; he thought he knew the answer, but he was mistaken.

Exploring the meaning of disaster

　　I believe that when exploring the meaning of a disaster, we should first investigate its direct causes, because that may be where the meaning lies.For example, if someone commits a crime, breaks the law, or does something foolish, bringing misfortune upon themselves (even harming others), they should repent for their sins, transgressions, or foolishness, without seeking deeper meaning. This is crucial to preventing a recurrence of such disasters. But...If the direct cause is unclear, forcing an explanation will be counterproductive.This will not help prevent a recurrence of the disaster. Moreover, blaming innocent people for the mistake is unfair.

At this point, we must revisit Job's friends. Their theological viewpoint was not flawed—God rewards those who obey His word and punishes those who disobey—a concept found in the Bible (e.g., Deuteronomy 28; Judges 3:7-8). However, their error lay in applying this theological viewpoint to Job. Errors in application are harder to correct than errors in interpretation because they involve subjective judgment. While the Bible offers many explanations for calamities and suffering, determining which explanation (if any) is correct for a given situation is not easy. As Hans-Georg Gadamer quotes Immanuel Kant, "There are no rules governing the rational application of rules."² We have no other Bible to teach us how to use it. This reminds us:Even if the interpretation is correct, errors may still occur when applying it.Therefore, studying the Bible involves not only historical information, grammatical analysis, and theological knowledge, but also the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the ability to discern so that the truth can be correctly applied to life.

Another way to deal with it

Faced with disaster, Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth adopted a different approach. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain why Naomi had lost her husband and two sons, but instead chose to accompany her back to Bethlehem and take good care of her. Similarly, Boaz did not try to explain why the tragedy had befallen Naomi and Ruth, but instead helped them obtain food, and later became their kinsman redeemer. Our inability to explain disasters does not mean we are powerless. On the contrary, we can still do many practical things to help those affected.

So, should we explore the deeper meaning of disasters? I think for most people, this means what spiritual lessons can be learned from them. This involves subjective understanding. Even if we haven't personally experienced a disaster, we can still learn spiritual lessons from it; if we have, it goes without saying. However, if we're referring to another level—whether we can discern God's will in a disaster—then we should be cautious. For example, is God punishing the world through the coronavirus because this generation is wicked? Or is it a sign of the pains before Christ's second coming (Mark 13:8)? Both are possible, but we cannot be certain. Therefore, we should not teach these interpretations as absolute truth. Rather than offering uncertain explanations, we should earnestly follow the teaching of Deuteronomy 29:29: "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the revealed things belong to us and our children forever, that we may do everything that is said in this law." Similarly,God may allow or cause calamities to occur, and the purpose behind it may be hidden; but His commandment for us to help those in need is clearly revealed..

____________________________________________

¹ “Number of COVID-19 deaths reported to WHO” [Online source]; taken from the World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); viewed on February 13, 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

(Translated by Chen Hsiu-mei)

Why Does It Happen?

It is not uncommon for people to ask, “Why?” when something bad happens. Actually, in many cases, the immediate causes are known. According to the World Health Organization, as of January 25, 2026, 7,110,188 people have died from COVID-19. ¹ Closer to home, the official figure of people who died in the Wang Fuk Court fire is 168. Both disasters impact Hong Kong residents deeply, but their causes are not unknown. The COVID-19 pandemic was caused by the SARS-CoV-2 virus. Quite a number of causes for the fire at Tai Po have been identified, and none of them is mysterious or unfathomable.

So, why do we ask why even when we know the immediate cause of a disaster? I think the reason is that we want to know the deeper meaning of a disaster rather than just the cause. In other words, we want to know why God allowed or even caused it to happen. In the Bible, God communicates his will through angels, prophets, visions, or dreams. He may also appear to convey his words. So, there was no ambiguity. Nevertheless, these events are beyond human control; this was the case in the Bible and is certainly the case today. Thus, we cannot depend on them to explain why a disaster happens today.

A readily accessible and authoritative source of information is the Bible, which gives us quite a lot of explanations about why disasters happen. They include attacks by evil spirits (eg, Job), the sinfulness of humanity (eg, Jgs 19-21), foolish decisions of people involved (Prv 10:14; 14:16), and judgment of God (Dt 28:15-68). Ecclesiastes 9:12 states that a life-threatening disaster (lit. “evil time”) may befall anyone suddenly without warning. That is, disaster is a norm in this fallen world and may require no further explanation. More positively, some disasters may be permitted as a means of teaching or training us in righteousness (Dt 8:1-3; 1 Pt 1:6-7). We may also be called to suffer for the sake of God's Kingdom (Mt 5:10-12). They are all legitimate answers, but the problem is that we may not know which of these is the correct answer in a specific situation. Moreover, we may be mistaken even if we think we know. This was the case with Job's friends. They thought they knew, but they were wrong.

The Meaning of a Disaster

　　I think that in searching for the meaning of a disaster, we should begin with the immediate cause since it may also be the meaning. For example, if a person commits a sin, a crime, or something foolish that brings a disaster on himself (and perhaps on others), he should repent of his sin, crime, or foolishness. There is no need to look for a deeper meaning. This step is important to prevent the disaster from happening again. However, if the immediate cause is not obvious, forcing an explanation is counterproductive. It won't prevent the disaster from recurring. Moreover, it is unjust to blame an innocent person for wrongdoing.

This brings us back to Job's friends. Their theology was not wrong. The notion that God rewards those who keep his words but punishes those who disobey is found in the Bible (eg, Dt 28; Jgs 3:7-8). It was their application of that theology to Job that was wrong. Wrong application is more difficult to correct than wrong interpretation because it is a subjective decision. (if any) is correct in a specific situation. As Hans-Georg Gadamer, quoting Immanuel Kant, says, “There are no rules governing the reasonable use of rules.” ² We don't have another Bible to teach us how to use the Bible. This warns us that even when our interpretation is correct, we may still make a mistake in application. This is why Bible study is not just concerned about historical information, grammatical analyses, and theological knowledge. We also need the guidance of the Holy Spirit and discernment to appropriate it correctly in our lives.

Another Approach

Another approach to disaster was taken by Ruth and Boaz in the Book of Ruth. Unlike Job's friends, Ruth did not try to explain the reason Naomi lost her husband and sons. Instead, she accompanied Naomi back to Bethlehem to take care of her. do many practical things to help the victims.

So, should we attempt to find deeper meanings in a disaster? I think that for most people, it means whether there are any spiritual lessons we can learn from it. This is a subjective perception. There is no reason why we cannot learn spiritual lessons from a disaster, even if we are not personally involved; more so, if we are personally involved. At another level, if the question is whether we can discern God's will in the disaster, we should be wary. Was God punishing this world through COVID-19 because of its wickedness? Or was it the birth pangs heralding the Second Coming of Christ (Mk 13:8)? They are both possible, but we can't be sure. Therefore, we should not teach them as truths. Instead of offering uncertain explanations, we do well to heed the teachings of Deuteronomy 29:29, which says, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law” (ESV). Similarly, God's will in allowing or causing a disaster to happen may be hidden from us, but his will for us to help those in need is clearly manifested.

____________________________________________

¹ “Number of COVID-19 Deaths Reported to WHO” [data online]; available form World Health Organization website (https://data.who.int/dashboards/covid19/deaths); accessed 13 February 2026.
² Hans-Georg Gadamer, Reason in the Age of Science, trans. Grederick G. Lawrence (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), 121.

In a time of turmoil and frequent disasters, how should Christians cope? What reminders or comforts can the Bible or theology offer us? We invited several teachers to explore these questions from different perspectives.

In an age marked by turmoil and disaster, how should Christians respond? What counsel and consolation does God’s Word and theology give us? To explore these questions from diverse perspectives, we have invited some of our faculty members to share their reflections.

Is Time a Divine Creation: Revisiting Augustinian Time in Light of Theoretical Physics and Psychology

Time is a significant issue in both natural sciences and religious thoughts. Not only time itself has attracted attentions of many scientists and religious thinkers, also it decides the way we look at other things.

In the Confessions, Augustine situates time within the divine order of creation, making it one of the most significant sources for later inquiries into physical and psychological time.

This lecture traces contemporary theories of time in theoretical physics and psychology back to Augustine’s understanding of the origin of time, aiming to achieve a new theological-hermeneutical “fusion of horizons.”

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Please click here to register

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