The Problem of Parental Perspective in Process Theology
Is God really a good, good parent?
This past weekend (as I am writing this) I was fortunate to attend the “God after Deconstruction” conference at St. Andrew United Methodist Church in Highlands Ranch, CO which was led by noted Process/Open and Relational (ORT) thinkers Thomas Jay Oord and Tripp Fuller. I’m especially grateful that I was invited to be on a panel discussion amongst other podcasters and have a table promoting my podcast at the event. I’ll also say that having never met, spoken with, or even really listened to one of his lectures, it was readily apparent to me after getting to do all of that at this conference that Tripp is incredibly brilliant. I’m also a huge fan of Tom (Oord) and his work too.
That all being said, I still find myself quite on the fence about ORT/Process Theology (which I’ll simply refer to as ORT from here on out). While there is a lot I appreciate about ORT, such as its emphasis on God’s relational and persuasive actions, I also find it unsatisfying and sort of “flat,” like it lacks a sort of affect. To me, it sort of makes God seem like an idealized version of humanity—meaning, how we would expect the best version of ourselves to behave. And, I think that limitation is exemplified through the metaphor of being a parent.
Saturday morning, Tom gave an introductory lecture on the basics of ORT, specifically speaking about the primary issues which ORT addresses. I won’t rehash that all here and I would definitely recommend Tom’s books on the subject,1 but the single aspect I’ll discuss here is ORT and the problem of evil. See, one of ORT’s most prominent “features” is its handling of the problem of evil. In short, ORT suggests that evil happens because God can’t stop it (Oord literally has a book, God Can’t).2
To that point, in his lecture, Tom gives the example of a parent and suggests that any good parent would not knowingly or willingly let their child suffer—to which I wholeheartedly agree. Tom then added that one of the limitations of classical theism (to which I’m not sure I even totally buy (classical theism), but that’s another post) is that while it suggests God is present and alongside of us during our suffering, such an action (or inaction) by a theoretically omnipotent God is ultimately mean and cruel.3 Meaning, if God could have stopped the suffering, why didn’t God?
To this point, Tom gave the example of a child pinned under a car after a car crash, asking is it enough for a parent to simply stand by and comfort the child suffering under the weight of the car, even if that parent is holding their hand and reassuring them, when the parent could simply push the car off the child and end the suffering (or intervene so as to avoid the suffering altogether). Surely, we would all agree that any parent who could alleviate the suffering of a child and not do so would be problematic, abuse, maybe even psychotic. Yet, setting aside the complexities of human free will and whether humans would actually have free will if God constantly intervened, I do want to examine that parent metaphor more deeply.
In a following lecture at the conference, Tripp Fuller gave an amazing and energetic presentation on “thrownness,” the uniqueness of Jesus, and Process theology. But what really stuck with me was not the content of that lecture (brilliant as it was) but rather a sort of aside or unrelated incident that happened in the middle of it. As he was speaking, Tripp repeatedly looked at his Apple Watch, then said, “Hey, my son has called me 3 times in a row, let me see what’s going on.” So, right then and there, Tripp called his son from the stage. Sure enough, nothing was seriously wrong, and it was just a teenager being a teenager, and as Tripp said (or something to the effect) his son didn’t have the appropriate perspective as to what constituted an emergency.
This little interaction exemplifies my unease with ORT quite well—the problem of the parental perspective.
From what I could gather from Tripp’s words, his son was of the opinion that his current situation was some sort of crisis that required 3 consecutive calls to his father, even though the teenager likely knew that his dad was out of town and speaking at a conference. Yet, knowing this (and I’m making an assumption that may not be accurate), the son chose to call, believing his situation to be some sort of suffering to which he needed his father’s help to relieve his suffering.
Again, Tripp made the comment to us (the audience) that the panic of the 3 calls was not warranted by the son (and in fairness, maybe upon a follow-up call after the fact, it turns out it actually was a crisis). In this moment, Tripp was implying that he, the father, the wiser and smarter and person with more life experience, had better discernment or judgment as to what actually constituted suffering or a crisis. With that in mind, I ask this:
Do we then think that God is wiser, smarter, and has more “life experience” than us?
Do we think that God has a broader perspective than our own view?
Do we think that God has our best interests in mind?
I think the answer to all of those questions would be yes, and that even an ORT thinker would agree.
To go back to the example of Tripp’s phone call with his son. Tripp is wiser than his son. Tripp has a broader perspective than his son. Tripp has his son’s best interests in mind.
If then Tripp is able to act and think in such a way in relation to his son, and such actions and thoughts be regarded as morally acceptable—why then do we think that God acting in such a way towards us (humanity) is somehow immoral or unacceptable?
And this really gets at my ultimate unease about ORT; it seems entirely human-centric. Meaning, it only considers our (humanity’s) perspective on the situation—not God’s. And sure, we can’t understand God’s thinking (at least in my opinion), and more, if we could, would God really be God anymore? Which, is sort of my point, I think ORT reduces God to a sort of idealized version of humanity. God is just the best version of ourselves, so to speak.
Again, and this goes back to the parent/child metaphor—do we really know what is best for ourselves in each and every moment? Yesterday, I just went through a training which emphasized that current US law does not allow anyone under 18 to consent to certain acts or activities because they believe teenagers (children) under the age of 18 do not possess the brain capacity to as to be able to consent. Perhaps said differently, those under 18 do not possess the wisdom, intellect, and life experience to always make the best decisions for themselves.
We are the children (under 18) in the God-humanity / parent-child metaphor. Therefore, I do not think it ultimately wise or prudent for us as God’s children (interestingly even the Bible uses that language) to necessarily think we know what is best for ourselves in any given moment. There have been multiple times in my life I have thought I made a great decision only to regret it, there have been multiple times I hated something in the moment yet appreciated it later, and there have been multiple times I would have wished to avoid difficulty yet found meaning from it after the fact.
I will not pretend to understand the mind of God or even attempt to explain it. In truth, Fuller and Oord both are far wiser and smarter than me, so perhaps I would do well to simply shut up and accept their wisdom much as I am inherently suggesting humanity should do in relation to God. I may be completely and utterly wrong in my evaluation.
More, I would not dare to say to a person in the midst of pain or trauma or suffering that God willed or allowed such an event. Having completed 4 units of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE)—3 units of which occurred during the Covid pandemic—I am aware of unimaginable and unfathomable crisis. Never did I dare to say, nor would I even still, that a family’s tragic loss was somehow God’s plan or a result of God’s inaction (meaning God could have stopped it but chose not to).
Let me also add here that as I write this, my extended family is going through an enormously challenging situation that I wish God would (could?) just fix, and even now as I pray constantly for the situation I cannot wrap my head around God’s purpose, intent, actions, will, (whatever) in this situation. And it seems like things will get worse before they get better. It sucks, plain and simple.
But, as I write this and as I companion with my family through this crisis, I am telling them what I am telling myself—that God is with us in this suffering and difficulty. That God loves us and has our best interests in mind. I am praying fervently for healing—dare I say I am praying for a miracle. And I am asking others for their continued prayers too (you are welcome to pray for this situation now, as you are reading this, if you are so inclined, for I trust that God hears and understands your prayers).
I certainly do not understand why suffering happens. I do not understand why this certain situation is happening. But I do lean on the belief that God is God, that God is in some semblance of “control,”4 and that God wants/desires (wills?) our best. I trust that God is a good Father (parent) who knows what is best for us. I’m reminded of the song “Good, Good Father” by Chris Tomlin which has resonated deeply within me each time I sing it or hear it;
Oh, I've heard a thousand stories of what they think You're like
But I've heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night
And You tell me that You're pleased
And that I'm never alone
You're a Good, Good Father
It's who You are
It's who You are
It's who You are
And I'm loved by You
It's who I am
It's who I am
It's who I am
Oh, I've seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only You provide
Cause You know just what we need
Before we say a wordYou're a Good, Good Father…
The testimony of Scripture is that God is indeed a good, good Father (parent)…
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17).
“If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11).
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Even though I do not understand how or why or if, I choose to rest (and pray I continue to) in the goodness of God.
See Open and Relational Theology: An Introduction to Life-Changing Ideas
See God Can't: How to Believe in God and Love after Tragedy, Abuse, and Other Evils
Tom does have an intriguing recent book, The Death of Omnipotence and Birth of Amipotence
Or maybe said differently, God is always working and acting for our good (again, I resonate with some elements of ORT even as I dislike others). Let’s also acknowledge that language is metaphor.




Thanks for alerting me to this, Loren. I think you make some good points. And some other points are weaker. Here are my quick thoughts:
1. Just about everyone thinks God is wiser than we are. But that doesn't get us very far in understanding God. It doesn't mean we can chalk up questions about evil to mystery and say, "God must have a plan" or "God's ways are beyond our understanding." If we do that, we should also doubt what we think is God's goodness. For that is beyond our understanding too. Are you willing to do that?
2. Your main criticism seems to be that ORT is too human-oriented, in the sense of thinking about God from a human perspective. But isn't that the only perspective we have? I doubt you think you have some special revelation from God, and I bet you think sacred scriptures are written by humans. So it seems to me that anyone who thinks God exists (like you and I do) must do the best they can given their human thinking. No one has God's perspective, so appealing to it doesn't help.
3. You ask whether you REALLY know what's best for your child. Of course, none of us can be certain about our moral judgments. But if your kid said that someone was hurting him, you wouldn't say, "Who am I to help my kid or advise my child to avoid harm? Maybe it's good." To put it bluntly: if you can't make analogies between your care as a parent and God's care, your claims about God's parental care are hollow. God may be an abusive father.
4. Your final point that "God is God" doesn't tell us anything. Who would deny this tautology? The question remains: What KIND of God exists? If an omnipotent God exists who allows evil, I don't want to be associated with that God or spend eternity with her. As I've often said, "Beware of worshipping the utterly mysterious God, because you never know whom the Devil he may be."
How does all of this strike you?
Tom