Explosions in Boston and Texas. Abductions in Cleveland.
Civil war in Syria. Murders in the streets of London. Tornadoes in Oklahoma.
Every week an opportunity to ponder afresh questions of human suffering, loss
of innocent life, the existence of evil in our world, and the meaning, if there
is meaning to be found, in any of it. I
write for therapy. I write, because like anyone reading this, I need to process
this story I find myself in. I write to feel some sense of control of the plot.
Control that, I know, is merely a temporary smokescreen for the sheer lack of
control that any of us actually have over world events. I write because a thread
that runs through the middle of each of these tragedies, and nearly every
tragedy that leaves its scar across our communal psyche, is the wretched unexpectedness
of it all. Despite all logic which would seem to point towards our gradual
acceptance of pain, human suffering and evil over time, every story of
catastrophe, be it a natural or man-made disaster, appears to catch us all by
surprise - again, and again, and again. And in these moments we are confronted,
in often paradigm shattering ways, with what it is that we truly cling to for
comfort, hope, purpose, and salvation.
For some, in the wake of loss they turn inward to self
destructive addictions that offer a momentary numb or a sense of control,
albeit fleeting. Some turn their hearts over to bitterness, anger, or plots for
revenge. Others nurse a cynical nihilism
that supports their “everything is meaningless” worldview; another form of the
drug some take in order to stay asleep while dismissing this world away as just
a bad dream. There is another group who
seem to be able to naively close their eyes, and choose blissful ignorance over
reality; playing violins while the Titanic sinks. Still others will see everything as
confirmation that the world is already doomed, wrecked beyond repair, and will
return to waiting for their flight heavenward, which, if the nightly news is
any indicator, should be happening any moment now for them. And there will be
some who witness suffering and see something attractive in the power of evil,
the way it can hold influence over the lives of the innocent, and will seek to
participate in the creation of more of it.
BUT I also believe that there will be others, perhaps the
smallest group of all, who are called to live in this world and can also see
the world to come. More specifically, they can see the world to come right here
in this world. They can see security
amidst the terror, hope among the despair, salvation among the bondage, rescue
in the abduction, freedom in the imprisonment, light in the darkness and life
in the death.
These people are the only people who are fully alive, and these people are the only people who are truly following
Jesus Christ. It can only be those who know the depths of the darkness who can
point people towards the light.
When asked recently by a colleague whether or not I believed
the theological idea that Christians were going to succeed in bringing in the
fullness of Christ’s Kingdom before he returns was true I replied “Whether or
not I believe the Scriptures teach it, I believe all Christians should lived
like it is.” If we who hold the gospel in our hands and our hearts loose this
central hope, what do we have to offer the rest of the world? The headlines are
true, the world is a broken place, people can be quite, quite evil, and human
loss is a constant reality of human existence.
But I believe with an equal amount of certainty that this is
the not the way it was supposed to be, and that this is not the way it is going
to be in the world to come. My prayer is that when those who name the name of
Christ pray “Your Kingdom come, your will be done ON EARTH as it is in Heaven” we mean it; and that when God gives us
opportunities to answer that prayer, we are found faithful.
