Guest Editorial for Jan. 20, 2005
A few years ago, I met a sweet, earnest, kind man whose name, if I remember correctly, was John.
John is a thirtysomething, born-again, church-going, Bible-believing, Jesus-loving Christian.
Not too long before I met John, his young wife walked out of their suburban home, was struck by lightning and died.
One evening, when we were at dinner with a group of people, John started asking me why God would let that happen to his wife. Why her? Why him? What had they done to deserve this? What did it all mean?
I thought about what he was asking, questions full of anguish and frustration and prayed one of those, Lord-what-should-I-tell-this-man prayers. And clearly not waiting for any kind of actually divine answer, I gave him my own.
It was something like, “I don't think God killed your wife. But maybe, by allowing this to happen, God was preparing you for something far greater than you could ever imagine.”
“Do you think so?” John asked, looking for solace.
“Yes,” I said, patting his hand. “This must have happened for a reason.”
In hindsight, it's one of the worst things I've ever said to anyone.
How arrogant, how stupid, how utterly beside the point was my attempt at explaining the unexplainable. Exactly what reason would have been good enough to justify losing the love of his life?
I meant well, but I was a fool.
I'm sorry, John. What I should have said was, “It's horrible. And I don't know why it happened.”
It's not a good answer, but it's an honest one.
Many of us don't like to admit it when we don't know. And we grasp for anything that sounds helpful-even if it's not-to try to ease minds or mitigate sorrow.
I've been thinking a lot about John and unsatisfactory answers to unanswerable questions since the tsunami struck the day after Christmas.
The “why did God do this” question was not my first response. It never is. I can't exactly explain why it isn't; I guess I'm just wired that way. That and I believe God is a loving God.
How do I know this? Not in any provable way. But I do. Faith tells me it's true, and I believe I've experienced the love of a gracious God. Which is not a very satisfactory or rational explanation, I realize.
I was reminded of this when, over curried peas and naan at an Indian restaurant in Chicago a few days after the ocean rose up to claim more than 140,000 souls, my boss asked me to explain what happened.
What he meant was, “OK, God Girl, why does he do this?”
I told him I didn't know, but that I don't think God does this kind of thing. I think it just … happens.
“Well then, why does God let it happen?” was the gist of his next question.
I don't know, I told him, but I had what I knew would likely be an unfulfilling theological answer if he wanted it.
He said he did, and I said something about God designing the world to be perfect, but when Adam and Eve sinned, the whole world became a fallen place, and planet Earth has been out of whack ever since. Hence, earthquakes, tsunamis, and pestilence in general.
“You're right,” he said. “That really isn't a very good answer.”
“See?” I said.
The truth is, I don't know, he doesn't know, you don't know, the theologians don't know, and neither do the philosophers, bishops, prophets, witch doctors and psychics.
And we won't. At least not in this life.
Recently, CNN's Larry King had former presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton on his show to talk about America's tsunami relief efforts.
At the end of the interview, King asked, “Do you grapple with how a caring God would allow this? Do you question faith?”
Clinton gave an honest response.
“To me, it's humbling,” Clinton said. “It reminds us that we're not in control, that our faith is constantly tested by circumstances, but it should be deepened when we see the courageous response people are having, and the determination to endure. To me, in the end, it … deepens your faith when you see the triumph of the human spirit in the face of this kind of adversity.”
Some see God in the angry ocean, rising up to destroy all life in its wake.
But others see God in the care of millions of strangers, rising up to save it.
Why not?
Religion News Service
Cathleen Falsani writes about religion for the Chicago Sun-Times.