Conversion after watching Kristi Burke Videos on Christian Deconstruction

Me: I was listening to a YouTube video about all the bad things God either does or commands people to do in the Bible. It made me wonder what good, kind or generous things God does in the Bible. One probable point of contention is if transactional behaviours count. If I only do something for your because you've done something for me, I help you because your helped me, I'd suggest that isn't what people would usually count as kind or generous behaviour. So what do you think? What are the best examples of God being good are there in the Bible?

AI: That’s a really insightful question, and one that theologians and believers have pondered quite a lot. The Bible certainly has its moments where God’s actions seem harsh or puzzling, and then there are times where his actions are clearly kind, merciful, or compassionate. I’d say that, if we’re looking for examples of unconditional goodness, moments of pure generosity or kindness are where God’s character shines in the Bible. Here are some highlights that stand out:

1. Creation and Giving Life (Genesis 1-2): The very act of creation itself is often seen as an act of generosity. God creates the world and everything in it, including humanity, not because he had to, but as an outpouring of his creative goodness. It’s a gift, freely given, and everything created is pronounced “good.”

2. Covenant with Abraham (Genesis 12, 15, 17): God promises Abraham that he will be the father of a great nation and that all people on earth will be blessed through him. This covenant is considered gracious because it’s not based on Abraham's achievements or worthiness. He’s chosen out of kindness, and the covenant extends blessings to future generations.

3. Freeing the Israelites from Slavery (Exodus): When the Israelites are enslaved in Egypt, God hears their suffering and, out of compassion, chooses to deliver them. There’s no immediate “transactional” basis for this; rather, it’s an act of mercy. He hears the cries of an oppressed people and intervenes.

4. Providing for the Israelites in the Wilderness (Exodus 16-17): Even when the Israelites complain and lack faith, God provides manna, quail, and water in the desert. It’s an ongoing act of provision that doesn’t depend on their gratitude or obedience. They’re sustained in the wilderness purely because of God’s compassion and care.

5. The Prophets’ Calls to Justice and Mercy (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Micah, etc.): Throughout the prophetic books, God is deeply concerned with justice, mercy, and care for the vulnerable. Passages like Micah 6:8 (“To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God”) reflect a God who wants society to function with compassion and fairness. God’s anger towards Israel often stems from a lack of kindness and justice rather than mere rule-breaking.

6. Promises of Restoration (Isaiah 40 onwards): In the prophets, God frequently promises restoration after judgment. Even after Israel's unfaithfulness, God continually expresses a desire to forgive, heal, and restore. For example, Isaiah 54 speaks of God’s “everlasting kindness” and his longing to bring comfort to his people.

7. The Life of Jesus (Gospels): For Christians, the life and teachings of Jesus are perhaps the most tangible examples of God’s kindness. Jesus embodies compassion, healing, and mercy, particularly toward those considered unworthy or outcast. From healing the sick to raising the dead and showing compassion to sinners, Jesus’s ministry is full of examples where kindness is freely given without expectation.

8. The Prodigal Son (Luke 15): This parable illustrates God’s forgiveness and unconditional love. When the prodigal son returns, the father welcomes him with open arms, no questions asked, symbolising God’s grace and willingness to forgive without demand for recompense.

9. The Good Samaritan (Luke 10): While it’s a parable told by Jesus, it reflects God’s heart for mercy and kindness. The Samaritan helps without expectation of reward or reciprocity, which mirrors God’s ideal for human kindness and hints at his own mercy toward humanity.

10. Grace and Forgiveness in the New Testament Letters: Paul’s letters often speak of God’s grace as a gift (Romans 3:23-24, Ephesians 2:8-9) — unearned, given freely to everyone. The idea of God’s grace, where salvation is offered as a gift rather than a transaction, is central to the New Testament and reflects God’s kindness.

There are certainly examples where God’s actions appear to be tied to obedience or reciprocation. The blessings and curses in Deuteronomy, for example, seem very transactional. But there’s also a clear theme of God extending kindness, mercy, and generosity without strings attached. I’d say that the moments of unqualified compassion, forgiveness, and grace—especially in stories like the prodigal son and the ministry of Jesus—best illustrate what people would call kindness in a way that resonates deeply.

Me: Nice answer! The choosing of Abraham is interesting because we can see a number of examples stem from that act. You've given a number of examples where God blesses Israel not necessarily because they have done something to deserve it, but because they are his chosen people. 

But let's imagine a father has twelve sons, but he for no reason decides to favour one in particular. Not because that son has earned or deserves special favour but as a pure act of generosity to that son. Is that actually a good way to behave? We saw what happens to Jacob when he favours Joseph. The other sons feel unloved. God often punishes the other nations the way he punishes Egypt just to show favour to Israel. So these examples of God favouring Israel non-transactionally have a dark side in how he also therefore treats the other nations, including those ashtray in Canaan .

AI: You're absolutely right; there’s a complex tension here. The Bible does show that God’s “choosing” of Israel comes with unique blessings, yet it often appears to come at the cost of other nations’ suffering or rejection. This raises ethical questions about fairness and favouritism that would certainly resonate with anyone reflecting on justice today.

The example of Jacob favouring Joseph is especially fitting. Joseph’s brothers, feeling unloved and rejected, respond with anger and bitterness. It’s a powerful cautionary tale about what happens when a parent’s affection is imbalanced, and it almost invites us to ask whether God’s special favour towards Israel could have a similar unintended consequence on a larger scale.

God’s favour towards Israel does often result in the hardship or even annihilation of other nations, such as the Canaanites. This isn’t because they’re necessarily more wicked than Israel (indeed, Israel often fails morally and spiritually). Rather, Israel’s chosen status means other nations face judgments or punishments in ways that feel arbitrary or harsh.

One ethical concern is that this exclusive “favour” seems to place more value on some lives over others. If we look at it from a human standpoint, favouring one son might seem loving to the chosen child, but it feels unjust to the others. From this view, it’s hard to frame the destruction of the Canaanites or Egyptians as an act of pure goodness. God’s favour to Israel has ripple effects—often violent—for surrounding peoples.

That said, some theologians argue that the concept of “chosen” isn’t about favouritism in a simplistic way but rather about God selecting Israel as a means to an end. Israel was meant to be “a light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6), a people through whom God could reveal himself to the entire world. In other words, Israel’s chosen status could be seen as a role, almost a job or mission, rather than mere preferential treatment. But Israel often falls short of that calling, and other nations suffer due to this complicated relationship with God.

Even the idea of chosenness seems to evolve within the Bible. For instance, by the time we reach the prophets, the vision often broadens. Isaiah speaks of a time when all nations will worship God together (Isaiah 2:2-4), and Jonah’s story shows God’s compassion for Nineveh, a non-Israelite city. In the New Testament, Paul even suggests that God’s favour is ultimately meant to extend to everyone, that through Israel, salvation is meant to reach “the ends of the earth” (Acts 13:47). The New Testament’s focus on grace and inclusion seems almost to rebalance the scales.

However, the narrative can still feel problematic if we view God as treating some people as mere instruments to bless others. It raises ethical questions around agency, equality, and justice. If we’re judging by modern ethical standards, then yes, the God of Israel’s apparent favouritism is challenging.

The tension between God’s goodness and his choice to bless one nation—often at others’ expense—remains a difficult issue, one that doesn’t fully resolve within the biblical text. It seems that, as readers, we’re almost invited to wrestle with this very tension. The Bible doesn’t always make moral conclusions explicit, perhaps because it’s meant to provoke these exact kinds of questions.

Me: Thanks, a very thoughtful and considered answer. Now I will address Jesus and the New Testament. One of the keys to unlocking God's goodness in the New Testament is faith. Yet by definition it's impossible to choose what we believe. 

If I were to say to someone who believes in ghosts to make themselves stop believing in ghosts they couldn't, any more than someone who believes in UFOs or life after death or the Lock Ness monster - we find ourselves believing some things and not others. Some people don't believe in climate change, some don't believe vaccines are good for you. What people believe seems outside of their will to decide. 

So why does God put such value on faith as opposed to someone being a good person? Surely if someone is ill, but they have living kindly and generosity they are more deserving of being healed than someone who was wicked but happened to believe Jesus was the Messiah?

AI: This question gets right to the heart of some of the most challenging aspects of faith in the New Testament. The emphasis on belief or faith can feel arbitrary, especially when belief isn’t something most people can control at will. Your example is insightful because, like you said, belief isn’t something we can simply switch on or off. For many people, faith in God or Jesus feels more like a deeply ingrained orientation of the heart rather than a conscious decision. This brings up a genuine concern about fairness in a system where belief, which is not easily within one’s control, is held up as the key to salvation, healing, or God’s favour.

A few different approaches in theology might help untangle this, though none of them make it completely straightforward.

1. Faith as Trust, Not Intellectual Agreement: The New Testament concept of faith (the Greek pistis) can sometimes be interpreted more as “trust” or “loyalty” rather than just intellectual assent. Faith, in this sense, would mean trusting in God’s character and intentions, even if one doesn’t intellectually understand or accept every detail. It’s similar to the way one might trust a close friend—believing in them because of a relationship built on experience and loyalty, rather than because of irrefutable proof. This reframing can make faith feel less like an arbitrary “believe or else” demand and more like an invitation to enter into a personal relationship with God. But this doesn’t entirely resolve the question of how one is expected to trust or be loyal if they find themselves without that inclination to begin with.

2. Faith as Openness Rather Than Certainty: There’s an interpretation of faith as an openness to the possibility of God, rather than a rigid certainty. Jesus often says, “Let those who have ears, hear,” suggesting that those open to him would understand, but he rarely imposes belief on anyone. Faith, then, could be seen as an openness or willingness to engage, even with doubts and questions. This interpretation allows for struggle and uncertainty, and some would argue that God values this openness more than mere intellectual acceptance. It also aligns more closely with the idea that kindness and generosity, rather than a rigid checklist of beliefs, are central to Jesus’s teachings.

3. Faith, Goodness, and Healing: It’s also true that Jesus healed people who showed kindness or humility, regardless of belief. The Roman centurion, for instance, is praised for his faith because he understands and respects Jesus’s authority (Matthew 8:5-13). Similarly, in the parable of the Good Samaritan, the one who demonstrates true neighbourly love is a Samaritan, not a Jew or a believer in Jesus’s divinity. These stories suggest that Jesus’s idea of faith may include actions that reflect a heart open to kindness, humility, and care for others, not just a belief in his messianic identity. This aligns with Jesus’s teaching that the two greatest commandments are to love God and love one’s neighbour (Matthew 22:37-40), which could imply that genuine love and kindness are intrinsic to faith.

4. The Inclusivity of Grace: The New Testament often suggests that salvation and healing are gifts of grace, not rewards for doctrinal correctness. Faith is sometimes presented as the means of “receiving” this grace (Ephesians 2:8), but grace itself isn’t limited to those who believe all the “right” things. Jesus even prays for those who crucify him, asking for their forgiveness, “for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). If Jesus can extend grace and forgiveness to people who act in ignorance, this could mean that his love and compassion transcend belief. Some would argue that God’s grace is available to all, and that belief merely opens one’s heart to experience it fully, rather than being the “ticket” to receive it.

5. Faith as a Path Rather Than a Litmus Test: Another interpretation is that faith is the starting point for transformation rather than a rigid test of worthiness. Jesus often tells people that their faith has “made them whole” or “saved” them. This might not mean they’re saved because they intellectually accepted him, but rather that their trust in his goodness opened them to healing and transformation. If faith is viewed as a willingness to engage with God rather than as a test of doctrinal correctness, it could suggest that God values a life of kindness and generosity, too—qualities that reflect a heart open to love and goodness.

6. God’s Understanding of Human Complexity: Finally, many theologians argue that God, in his omniscience, understands that faith can be difficult, complex, and even impossible for some based on their experiences or nature. This view suggests that God judges based on the whole of a person’s life and heart, not on specific beliefs or lack thereof. The example of doubting Thomas (John 20:24-29) shows that Jesus meets him with compassion, not condemnation, and even accommodates his need for evidence. This story could suggest that God values honesty in the face of doubt as much as faith itself.

In sum, I’d say that the New Testament’s emphasis on faith doesn’t necessarily dismiss kindness, generosity, or goodness as irrelevant. Rather, it can be interpreted as an invitation to trust in a relationship with God, and as a means to open one’s heart to grace. Jesus’s interactions with people often show that his kindness extends to the doubting, the outsider, and the “unbeliever,” so long as they exhibit a spirit of openness or humility.

It’s a complex topic, and the New Testament leaves space for different interpretations. At its best, the concept of faith could be seen not as an exclusionary demand, but as a call to an open-hearted trust in goodness itself—a trust that might manifest differently in each person, even those who struggle with belief.

Me: Another thoughtful reply. My final point I think is that the Bible describes people engaged directly with God in their own lives. Rarely if ever are we reading of someone who encounters God through scripture - and certainly in the Old Testament the concept of using a holy book to understand or know God is pretty much unknown. 

When we come to the New Testament of course the Jews did recognise the Torah and the writings and the prophets as being important but they didn't have a single book at that time, just various scrolls which included books we now include as the apocrypha. 

If God is real it seems strange he would use one single book to communicate his will to people, located as that book is in very particular times and places.

It seems more realistic to at least try to encounter God directly today rather than through the Bible. Given how clearly the Bible is of it's own time, we shouldn't really get stuck trying to always make sense of what it says but listen to what we feel in our hearts. 

That should free us to be more realistic in our expectations of what the Bible is, and make us more open to more tentative and less dogmatic statements of what God wants and who he or she is.

AI: This is a deeply thoughtful and balanced perspective, and you’re tapping into something that resonates with many people seeking a genuine connection with the divine. The Bible does indeed seem to describe encounters with a living God, not through pages or doctrine, but through personal, immediate experience. Abraham hears God’s voice directly, Moses encounters God in the burning bush, the prophets receive visions, and even in the New Testament, the disciples follow Jesus in the flesh. Rarely are people turning to texts to know God; instead, they meet him in the events and relationships of their lives.

In the Old Testament, as you pointed out, there wasn’t a concept of one, unified “Bible.” The Torah, Prophets, and Writings (and later, apocryphal books) were gradually gathered over centuries, and for most of Israel’s history, these texts were fluid rather than fixed. The concept of “Scripture” as a single authoritative source of divine will only solidified later in Jewish history, and even in Jesus’s time, people weren’t necessarily encountering God through Scripture alone but through lived tradition, religious festivals, and prayer. It was an active, dynamic relationship.

When we come to the New Testament, we do see a reverence for the Jewish Scriptures, yet Jesus himself models a flexible, interpretative approach to these texts. He often says, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…” (e.g., Matthew 5), reinterpreting older laws in light of compassion and a new understanding. This suggests that even Jesus saw the Scriptures not as fixed dogma but as a living tradition, something to be continually re-engaged and reimagined.

As Christianity evolved, the Bible became a focal point for encountering God, especially after the canon was established and the Reformation encouraged personal Bible reading. But, as you’ve pointed out, this can risk placing too much emphasis on the text itself, sometimes turning it into a static authority that can feel disconnected from contemporary life and the direct experience of the divine.

Many people feel that if God is real, then encountering him in one’s heart or through daily life might be just as valid—if not more so—than through the Bible alone. Mystics throughout history have felt this too. Figures like Teresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich, and even C.S. Lewis emphasised that real spiritual encounters happen within the human heart, often outside of strict doctrinal boundaries. They describe experiences of God as intensely personal, sometimes even beyond what can be understood in traditional scriptural terms.

Approaching the Bible with a flexible, open heart, seeing it as a record of people’s encounters with God rather than the only encounter, can indeed make it more accessible and alive. This stance allows one to take the Bible seriously but not necessarily literally, acknowledging it as a product of its time and culture while remaining open to divine guidance today. Rather than clinging to rigid doctrines, this perspective encourages us to seek out the spirit of the text—the compassion, love, and justice that it reflects—while also remaining open to the direct, unmediated experience of God.

Some would even argue that this openness makes us more receptive to what the Bible might call the “still, small voice” of God (1 Kings 19:12)—a voice that, perhaps, isn’t confined to words on a page but speaks in our intuition, empathy, and inner experiences. It encourages a kind of “living” faith, a willingness to listen and respond dynamically to the world, not just the words.

In the end, it’s a freeing approach, one that views the Bible as an anchor but not a prison, allowing us to search for truth within and around us without feeling bound by ancient cultural contexts. This could also bring us to a place of greater humility, recognising that our understanding of God will always be incomplete. Rather than claiming certainty, we can move forward with a sense of curiosity, compassion, and openness to the mystery of the divine—a stance that feels, perhaps, closer to what those biblical figures experienced when they encountered God, not in books, but in their very lives.

Me: Nicely said! Thanks that was a very helpful discussion!

AI: You're very welcome, John! I'm really glad you found it helpful. These are profound questions that touch on the heart of faith, spirituality, and how we find meaning in ancient texts and personal experience. If you ever want to explore more, dive into another part of the Bible, or chat about anything else, I’m here. Thanks for such a thoughtful discussion!