WHEN ABEL DAMINA PUTS GOD IN THE DOCK (PART I)

“The Cross That Refuses to Cooperate”

By Akin Ojumu

There is a peculiar irony in certain modern attempts to defend the goodness of God. Every so often, this defense begins with a philosophical equation:

“God is good. Suffering and death are bad. Therefore, God cannot possibly ordain anything involving suffering or death.”

It sounds wonderfully reverent. It feels piously devout.

There is only one problem. 

The Apostles apparently never received the memo. None of the men whom the Lord Jesus Christ personally handpicked, tutored, and commissioned to spread His Gospel saw it fit to rigorously provide a character witness to God as One who is incapable of ordaining suffering and death. 

Nowhere does this become more obvious than at Calvary.

If God cannot ordain suffering without becoming morally culpable for evil, then the Cross creates an enormous theological problem. 

Because the New Testament refuses to describe Christ’s crucifixion as merely something Satan engineered, wicked men accomplished, and God later salvaged.

Peter says something considerably stronger.

Acts 2:23

“This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.”

Notice Peter’s theology.

God planned. Men murdered.

Two propositions. One verse. No panic.

Peter does not say Jesus was unfortunately delivered over because Satan temporarily gained the upper hand. He does not say God merely foresaw the crucifixion and later decided to turn the tragedy into something useful.

He says Jesus was delivered up:

“According to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God.”

And then, without hesitation:

“You crucified and killed.”

The divine plan does not eliminate human guilt. Human guilt does not eliminate the divine plan. Both of these facts are true at the same time.

Yet certain theological systems, such as the one championed and promoted by Abel Damina, insist that Peter must choose.

“If God ordained it, the murderers cannot be responsible.”

Or:

“If the murderers are responsible, God cannot have ordained it.”

Peter’s answer is essentially:

Why not both?

Apparently, apostolic Christianity was considerably less nervous about the sovereignty of God than some modern attempts by Damina and his acolytes to defend the goodness of God.

Even if Acts 2 could somehow be softened to accommodate a God who could not ordain evil of the magnitude of the Crucifixion of Jesus, you immediately run into the reality wall of Acts 4.

The Jerusalem Church prayed:

Acts 4:27–28

“For truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place.”

Look carefully at the language:

Your hand. Your plan. Predestined. 

Shikena! 

Period!

Not merely Satan’s hand. Not merely Pilate’s plan. Not merely something God passively observed and subsequently repurposed. The Church says that Herod, Pilate, the Gentiles, and Israel did what God’s hand and plan had predestined to take place.

This is where Abel Damina’s theological framework faces a serious exegetical problem.

If any ordination of suffering necessarily implicates God in evil, someone needs to explain why the Apostles spoke this way about the most wicked act in human history.

Perhaps the Jerusalem Church needed a theological public-relations consultant:

“Dear Apostles,

We appreciate your enthusiasm, but expressions such as ‘your hand,’ ‘your plan,’ and especially ‘predestined’ create severe reputational difficulties for God.

Suggested revision:

‘Herod, Pilate, the Gentiles, and Israel independently committed terrible acts that God had nothing decretively to do with, but fortunately God was able to salvage the situation afterward.’

Regards,

Department of Divine Reputation Management.”

Unfortunately for the revision committee, that is not what Acts says.

The Apostles said God had a plan. They said wicked men acted wickedly. And they saw no contradiction in that.

Here is the deeper problem.

Abel Damina’s theological system first announces what God cannot possibly do. Then it approaches Scripture—not primarily to discover what Scripture teaches, but to make certain Scripture does not violate the system.

“God cannot ordain suffering. God cannot decree death. God cannot sovereignly govern evil events.”

Why?

Because, supposedly, if He did, He would become evil.

Notice what has happened.

God’s goodness is no longer being defined from His own self-revelation. It is being defined by a philosophical rule established before the biblical evidence is heard.

The verdict has already been announced:

“A good God cannot ordain suffering.”

Then the witnesses enter.

Acts 2 objects.

Acts 4 objects.

Isaiah 53 objects.

Genesis 50 objects.

But instead of allowing Scripture to judge the philosophical premise, Scripture itself is placed on trial.

That is theology turned upside down. It is doctrinal gangsterism.

None of this means Satan had no involvement in Christ’s death.

Now, this point needs to be stated with particular force: acknowledging Satan’s involvement in the death of Christ does absolutely nothing to disprove God’s sovereign ordination of the Cross. That is a false dilemma imposed on the biblical text, not a conclusion drawn from it.

Scripture is perfectly capable of affirming both truths at once: God ordained the redemptive event according to His eternal purpose, while Satan acted wickedly through betrayal, temptation, hostility, and murderous opposition. To argue that Satan’s agency somehow cancels divine ordination is to confuse secondary agency with ultimate sovereignty.

The Bible does not force us to choose between “God ordained it” and “Satan was involved.” It explicitly gives us both. Satan entered Judas; wicked men conspired against Christ; rulers condemned Him; soldiers crucified Him—and yet Acts still declares that these very events occurred according to God’s “definite plan and foreknowledge” and that those gathered against Jesus did what God’s “hand and plan had predestined to take place.”

So, the attempt to rescue a particular theory of divine providence by appealing to Satan’s involvement simply will not work. Satan’s participation does not dethrone God, overturn His decree, or transform Calvary into an unforeseen satanic ambush. Satan acted as Satan—maliciously, culpably, and rebelliously. God acted as God—sovereignly, wisely, and redemptively.

The distinction is not between an active Satan and an absent God. The distinction is between the evil intentions of the creature and the holy purpose of the Creator.

Luke tells us how Satan influenced Judas Iscariot to betray Jesus.

Luke 22:3

“Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot.”

Jesus called the moment of His arrest Satan’s hour of power.

Luke 22:53

“When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.”

John Gospel echoes a similar sentiment.

John 13:27

“Then after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.”

Satan worked through betrayal. Satan animated opposition. Satan desired Christ’s destruction. 

But emphasizing Satan’s agency until divine providence disappears does not preserve biblical Christianity. It begins to resemble cosmic dualism.

God has His agenda. Satan has his. Satan occasionally gets there first. Heaven reacts. Providence improvises. God then takes Satan’s catastrophe and somehow turns it into salvation.

That is not Acts 2. That is not Acts 4.

Satan was active. But Satan was not sovereign. He was not the executive producer of Calvary. He did not spring an unexpected crucifixion on Heaven. He did not outmaneuver God. In fact, the apparent triumph of Satan became the instrument of Satan’s own defeat.

Hebrews 2:14 says that through death Christ destroyed:

Hebrews 2:14

“Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, He Himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death He might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil.”

Consider the irony.

Satan pushes toward death. Christ dies. And through that very death Satan is defeated.

The devil swings the hammer and discovers he has helped build the gallows of his own humiliation.

That is not Satan controlling history. That is Satan walking straight into the sovereign purpose of God.

Human responsibility is equally explicit.

Peter says:

Acts 3:15

“And you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses.”

Acts 5:30

“The God of our fathers raised Jesus, whom you killed by hanging Him on a tree.”

Judas betrayed Him. Religious leaders conspired against Him. Pilate condemned Him. Soldiers scourged Him. Soldiers nailed Him to the Cross.

That was wickedness. That was murder. That was guilt.

And Acts still says it happened according to God’s predetermined plan.

The apostles were perfectly comfortable saying:

God ordained it. You did it wickedly.

If our theology cannot tolerate both statements, perhaps Acts does not have the problem. Perhaps our theology does.

So, let us abandon slogans.

Did Satan work toward Christ’s destruction?

Yes.

Did sinful men actually crucify Him?

Yes.

Did Jesus willingly give Himself?

Yes.

Did God ordain the Cross?

According to Acts 2:23 and Acts 4:27–28:

Yes.

Different agents. Different intentions. One historical event.

Satan intended destruction. Men intended murder. Christ intended sacrificial love. God intended redemption.

This is the apostolic doctrine of the Cross.

And before a theological system declares that a good God could never ordain such an event, it must first reckon honestly with what Peter and the Jerusalem Church actually said.

Acts 2 has testified.

Acts 4 has testified.

The question is no longer whether the texts are clear. The question is whether we will permit them to speak.

When the system and the text collide, put the system in the dock—not God.