Reflecting theologically on disasters
Alan Galt January 2005
What is going on when the planet, acknowledged by the Creator as “good” (Genesis 1.31), seems to turn in fatal fury on its human tenants? And what sense can we make of frail humanity, made in God's image (Genesis 1.26), when error, negligence or hostile intent destroys hundreds, thousands, even millions of innocent lives?
Just looking at the past 30 years, Australia, a comparatively safe place to live, has had its fair share of disasters, both “natural” and human caused: Darwin cyclone, Newcastle earthquake, bushfires in the Blue Mountains, Ash Wednesday, Sydney, Canberra; transport and engineering failures at Granville, Glenbrook and Waterfall, the Pacific Highway, Thredbo; individuals and gangs running amok at Milperrra, Strathfield, Port Arthur.
Other emergencies: Nyngan floods, Sydney hailstorms, the continuing NSW drought, while not causing death or serious injury, have had the overwhelming devastating consequences for economic and social infrastructure and for emotional and spiritual well being that defines a “disaster”.
Australians have been heavily involved in overseas disasters, through their presence at the event and in their disaster recovery roles: war and civil disturbance in the Balkans, East Timor, Bougainville, Bali; humanitarian crisis in Somalia; and the current natural disaster of the effects of the tsunami.
The Uniting Church in NSW has been active in disaster recovery, exercising its regular pastoral function through local congregations, through chaplains appointed to specific crisis areas, police, ambulance and fire services, hospital casualty units, and through designated welfare and counseling services like Lifeline and Community Aid. We are also involved as a “supporting agency” in the State Disaster Recovery Committee which co-ordinates the participation of churches, community organisations and government departments before, during and after disasters. Our NSW Disaster Appeal Fund has made a valuable contribution to wider areas of recovery not supported by the Tax Office endorsed funds, particularly in maintaining pastoral ministry for congregations ravaged by fires or drought. The role of the Moderator and President in bringing encouragement and hope to individuals, families and congregations has been significant.
At the time of a disaster, everyone is affected to varying degrees emotionally. We try to make sense of the chaos and disruption and attempt to fit what we in a Western culture see as the obscenity of death and destruction into a theological framework.
In addressing the question: "How can a good God allow suffering?" I'd like to link three difficult texts.
1. "Master, whose sin caused this man to he born blind? His own, or his parents?"(John 9.2)
As in any time of uncontrollable crisis, the disciples were unable to explain the apparent contradiction of a kind Creator inflicting suffering on his children. They were looking for someone to blame for the affliction.
I was puzzled for a long time by Jesus' reply: “Neither, but so you may see God at work”! It sounds like Jesus is saying God intentionally visited the blind man with an infirmity so as to give Jesus the opportunity to make him better. That is not, at first glance, the loving Father who is infinitely capable of caring for his children. Yet in a subtle way, Jesus is hinting at the answer to the fragility of life: in the frailty of the human condition we see God's true greatness. At great pain to himself, God has made his children capable of feeling pain, in order to be able to grow, to be alive. If creatures were not organic, flesh and blood, but rather made of diamond and steel, if we were computers lacking in emotion, or robots incapable of being hurt, there would be no such thing as suffering and grief. If we were unable to make choices, life would be more predictable. We would do what we were programmed to do, not hurt ourselves or others or be hurt by them. But then we would not be alive.
God gives us the freedom to choose. The cost to him of the mistakes we and other people make is that he has to watch us suffer. By not magically interfering in the day to day events of life, the Creator subjects himself to the helplessness of human parents or grandparents who long for the best result for their children but often have to endure the worst.
What about accidents and events that don't involve other people – earthquakes, floods, fires, tsunamis and the range of natural calamities quaintly referred to by insurance companies as “acts of God”? Surely the Creator could spare us these without intruding on our freedom to choose?
This question often arises in pastoral groups in psychiatric units where patients struggle with the puzzle of how God can allow them to go on suffering from acute and chronic mental illnesses. I tell the story of one of my daughters riding her scooter while I jogged. One evening, when she was ten, she was racing along the footpath, hit a bump and fell painfully onto her elbow. Although the x-ray was clear and she recovered quickly, seven years later she had to have part of the bone on her elbow removed, a painful and frightening procedure. My wife and I asked ourselves “Should we have stopped her from riding her scooter so that such an accident would not have happened?” Everyone usually agrees that it is wrong for parents to try to protect their children from all dangers and that the negative result of not letting children take risks is greater than the problems caused by injuries. They also usually agree that while God chooses not shield his children from all dangers, he hurts when we are hurting (Kushner “Why bad things happen to good people” p93).
Of course, there is a place for individual and group responsibility – we can create problems for ourselves and others by self-destructive, maladaptive behavior, or we can improve our own hopes for survival and happiness by turning away from selfish, short-term goals. But that is not to say that all catastrophes are the result of human failure, as Jesus noted in referring to the Galileans who were murdered by Pilate's soldiers or the people in Jerusalem killed by a falling water tower (Luke 13.1-5).
Clearly God does not bring anguish as punishment, but the capacity to hurt and be hurt is part of our human nature. In fact, the more in tune with God we are, the more likely we are to feel the anguish of others.
2. “Sorrow like a sword will pierce your soul” (Luke 2.35).
The Virgin Mary, from the time she heard that she was “blessed” with the responsibility of being the mother of the Son of God, experienced terrible consequences. Arguably the “best” human being who ever lived, her life seems a poor reward for her obedience as she risked rejection by Joseph, abandonment, poverty, probably death. Soon after Simeon's prophecy, Joseph, Mary and the baby Jesus had to flee Herod's paranoid massacre. And 33 years later she watched while her young son was murdered before her eyes.
All but one of Jesus’ immediate disciples died violently. And Paul, no stranger to suffering, saw its value in producing endurance, character and hope (Romans 5.3,4).
There is no place for the assumption that suffering is a punishment from God. Rather when we contemplate the tragic reality of human suffering as we do in regular pastoral groups, we have to conclude that to be like Christ is to suffer!
3. “I make weal and create woe”(Isaiah 45.7) God accepts his part in humanity's situation.
From the beginning of human thinking, people have tried to make sense of a good Creator being responsible for a world in which evil can exist. Trapped by the idea that if God is good in his nature, then everything he does must be good, we find ourselves looking for explanations of tragedy and suffering that “excuse” the Creator. Human rebellion; an independent supernatural entity hostile to God's plans and human well-being; even a cosmos that goes its own way is suggested. None of these ever make sense, but they are not needed anyway.
We are aware that organic growth, or emotional, social or spiritual development, requires change and that change is usually difficult. Every worthwhile achievement is accompanied by effort and there are few human milestones that happen without a degree of suffering. Pain, distress and struggle are inevitable for growth, whether we are talking about childbirth or sporting prowess.
The book of Job tells the story of the most impatient character in the Bible, a man who shook his fist at God and maintained his right, to his friends’ alarm, to question the way God was running the world. God welcomed Job’s call for an answer but reminded him “'I’m sorry Job, the mystery of life will have to remain a mystery to you.” But Job was able to recognise that the design of the universe with all its problems was the best one possible.
I am encouraged by God's answer to Paul's fervent prayer that God would take away his “affliction” (2 Corinthians 12.7-9): “I'm afraid you are stuck with it, Paul, but I will give you the strength to survive”.
The individual and global responses to the tsunami highlight an amazing, unexpected caring reaction from across the community.
While no-one would agree with the proposition that the Creator singles out some particular sinners for spectacularly severe punishment, we can acknowledge that somehow in the tragic events of life we see most clearly the seeds of hope for true humanity!
