Editorial for September 29, 2005
By Jim White
In his preface to The Shepherd of the Hills, Harold Bell Wright wrote, “In the hills of life there are two trails. One lies along the higher sunlit fields where those who travel see afar and daylight lingers even when the sun is down. The other leads to the lower ground where those who travel look always over their shoulders with eyes of dread and gloomy shadows gather long before the day is done.”
Katrina and Rita, sisters of destruction, left behind them more than just the physical devastation observable from the air. They also left deep wounds in human hearts caused by scattered hopes, shattered dreams and battered beliefs. Something about this kind of tragedy seems to bring out the best-and worst-in human nature.
We all witnessed the video streams revealing how corrupt human nature can be. An inner longing to possess what we do not have causes normally decent people to take advantage of chaotic situations. With no concern for how their actions may hurt others, they twist circumstances to their advantage to greedily take what rightly belongs to others. We saw pictures of some of these people looting television sets from a Wal-mart. But I watched CNN in vain to see pictures of the others: Gas station operators who gouged their customers because they saw a chance to take in more money (notice I did not say “earn).” Or what about oil company looters who raised prices in anticipation of diminished supply. Executives in three-piece suits can hide behind the laws of supply and demand, but when they take advantage of a situation to take money out of their customers' pockets to line their own, they are, in essence, no different than the looters we saw on TV. They have chosen to walk the lower ground. Jesus called it the broad way that leads to destruction.
But countless others have chosen the higher ground, the narrow way, and are living in the storm, but above the norm. They, too, see opportunity in chaos. I choose to focus on those who walk the elevated pathway.
As devastatingly painful as these storms were, we can already see some silver linings in the huge bank of dark clouds. Besides blowing away shingles, signs and shrubs, she also blew away illusions with which we sought, falsely, to comfort ourselves. Notions that we are in control and can handle whatever comes our way? Gone with the wind. Good literature perhaps, but bad theology. Katrina reassigned the “I”-that self-centeredness with which we human beings typically view things-to a supporting role. The “I” of the storm has given way, temporarily at least, to an awareness of the “thou” of the storm. At our best, we have seen others not as fellow contenders for limited resources, but as mutual sufferers to whose aid we are obliged to rush. Some moral code imbedded by our Creator deep within our DNA requires it. We have begun to feel one another's pain. Even more, we have begun to see, however dimly, the image of God in one another. And we are ennobled by the experience.
As the tidal surge swept ashore, walls crumbled. But now, in the aftermath, other walls are crumbling-walls that should have been demolished long ago. Walls like those separating the rich from the poor. Among those seeking refuge at the New Orleans Super Dome was a medical doctor. Duty compelled her to stay behind but, like others, she soon found herself without shelter, without transportation, without food or water, and without the means of communicating outside the circle of people gathered around her. Mutual suffering is a great economic equalizer. During those days in the dome, former status didn't matter anymore. Curiously, they looked out for one another.
Suffering also crumbles racial divides. Despite the disproportionate number of African-Americans in the New Orleans shelters, the races have come together in gratifying ways to assist one another without regard to epidermal hue.
In the aftermath of Katrina we no longer believe we are invincible. Now that everything else has been washed away, many are discovering unexpected footing on a Rock they didn't know or wouldn't believe was there. The “I” of the storm has discovered a “Thou” above the storm. One New Orleans pastor reports that he is “excited about the number of people who are coming to the Lord as a result of this tragedy. Our people are out sharing the gospel with people they come in contact with in their new areas of residency … and many people are responding to the Lord as a result of having their lives shaken by Hurricane Katrina. In one local shelter, over 700 people responded one evening to an invitation to give their lives to the Lord. People are now more open to the gospel than ever before!”
Like the rest of us, these 700 people had a choice in trails. The high way or the low. The broad way or the narrow. They chose to follow Jesus wherever.
Jim White is editor and business manager of the Religious Herald.