The sermon I originally wrote for today on Jesus’ miracle at Cana has been filed for future
reference. Instead I’m going to be talking about something that I’m pretty sure is much more
immediate to many of us at the moment.
This past week we’ve been exposed to information and images that boggle the imagination and tear
at the heart. Unless you’ve been living in a cave you know by now that on Tuesday a very large
earthquake struck the nation of Haiti, and that there’s enormous and ongoing suffering that’s
happening as a result. At times like this we tend to be bombarded with many feelings. It’s normal to
feel shock and numbness, and it’s also normal to experience a wrenching sense of deep sympathy
for brothers and sisters on our human family tree. It’s normal to feel anger at the apparent injustice
of it all. And I’d venture to say that it’s normal and even healthy for us to ask hard questions.
Great suffering is a recurring reality in life on this earth. And each time it rears its hideous head on
a large scale we’re left to grapple with its meaning. One of the hardest and most persistent
questions for those of us who believe in a loving God is, “How can a loving and all-powerful God
allow this to happen? Why??” Folksinger Gordon Lightfoot once wrote a great song called “The
Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” about the sinking of an iron ore ship on Lake Superior with all
hands lost. There’s a line in it that forlornly asks, “Does anyone know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?”
I want to forewarn you that I’m not going to patronize you with an easy answer to this question. It’s
something that the greatest minds in Christianity have wrestled with over the centuries, and all who
do ultimately have to be honest enough to admit that there’s no easy or totally satisfying answer. It’s
complex, and, in the end, still tends to leave us pondering. Yet I think it’s too important an issue for
us not to deal with at a time like this.
I’d like to take a few minutes this morning at least to give us a few things to consider as each of us
try to come to grips with this week’s events. I begin with the unapologetic assumption that the
divinely-breathed scriptures speak truth when they describe our Creator God as One who loves us
deeply. He came to earth and died for us, and as Jesus the Son said, “Greater love has no one
than this.” That’s my starting point. At times I see very clear evidence of it, and at other times I
simply cling to it as truth given by God.
Having said that, I’d like first to mention some reactions to suffering that I personally find unhelpful.
The first of these is the glib and easy answer. On Wednesday we had a famous televangelist offer
an opinion that I and many others found over-simplistic and frankly, offensive. I’m not inclined to
belabor the matter with a complete description, but what it comes down to is an explanation that this
tragedy was a playing out of some kind of pact with the devil allegedly made back in the 1700’s by
some Haitian people desperate for freedom. I’m not sure where the televangelist got his information,
but I find this to contain precious little to comfort the millions of people now in anguish because of
the earthquake. I believe God would have us respond very differently than this, as we’ll see shortly.
Another response I find disturbing is the predictable sniping at people of faith. I read an op-ed piece
on Thursday from the New York Times essentially saying that all the victims are basically on their
own, and concluding sarcastically that perhaps even an absent God is better than no God at all.
For the thousands of people in Haiti who’ve been taking solace and comfort through prayer and
even the public singing of hymns since the earthquake, this is also decidedly unhelpful.
But what about our belief that God is all-loving and all-powerful? What gives here? Why did this
happen? Well, from the scriptures there are a number of explanations for the suffering that
happens on this earth. These are helpful for seeing and understanding some facets of suffering,
but ultimately still leave us with some questions.
The foremost explanation is that, owing to the evil that has dwelt on this planet from even before the
fall of humanity into sin, there’s been something terribly amiss. In fact it was God who gave us the
capacity to sense that something is wrong here. Because of evil, people do things that have real-life
consequences that hurt not only the guilty, but the innocent as well. And I think this is part of the
picture we see in Haiti. Much of the suffering there after this earthquake is the result of decades of
corruption, violence, and downright evil in their government, at least before a decade or two ago.
This has resulted in extreme poverty and vulnerability among it people. Houses there often collapse
even without earthquakes or hurricanes. What I’m saying is that, even though natural disasters
seem to be a recurring feature of life on this earth, much of the suffering that results from them can
be prevented or minimized. Largely because of human sin, this failed to happen in Haiti.
The flip side of this human responsibility issue is the question of how a country several hundred
miles from the richest nation on earth can be allowed to exist in such corruption and abject squalor
for so long. I personally think it can be legitimately asked how it is that we see fit to remove corrupt
governments half-way around the globe, but fail to deal adequately with the suffering right in our
own back yard. My intent here is not to be political, or oversimplify the very complex nature of
international relations, but I think this is a question we need finally to confront as we look at helping
Haiti to rebuild.
The question of why natural disasters are allowed to happen in the first place is a lot harder to
grasp. It’s one I had to deal with after the Cape Mendocino earthquakes in northern California in
1992. We had a 7.1, a 6.6, and a 6.7 all happen within an 18-hour period. I still remember the pale
and benumbed look of people in shock, wandering around aimlessly for days after the quakes. And
of course this was nothing compared to what happened in Haiti. As a disaster relief therapist what I
learned is that attempts to answer the question of “Why” usually don’t do a lot of good.
And this has led me and others to conclude that maybe we’re asking the wrong question entirely.
After all, suffering is present throughout the pages of scripture, Old and New Testaments. The Bible
is anything but Pollyannish about suffering. Job grappled with God in trying to understand suffering,
and his “helpful” friends who offered their own confident explanations were rebuked by God himself.
Psalm 46 assumes that disasters will happen, and assures us that “though the earth be moved, and
though the mountains be toppled into the depths of the sea; though its waters rage and foam, and
though the mountains tremble at its tumult, the Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our
stronghold.”
Jesus says to believers, “In this world you will have trouble.” And then he says, “But take heart, I
have overcome the world.” He even predicts enormous suffering on this earth immediately
preceding his return to usher in the new age, with natural and human disasters combining to paint a
brief but hellish scenario. Why? Only God knows. But then in Matthew 24 Jesus says “They will see
the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory. And he will send his
angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of
the heavens to the other.”
Through these and many other examples from scripture what we hear is that, despite the horror and
suffering that happen from time to time in this life, God is still on His throne, the sufferings will pass,
and one day everything will be brought to where God has always wanted it to be, with no more tears
and no more suffering. In other words in order even to begin to deal with earthly suffering, it has to
be placed in the broader perspective of eternity. This is the message of comfort that we can bring
to those who are hurting, and this is the message already intuitively recognized by all those people
in Haiti crying out to Jesus and singing hymns in the midst of unimaginable anguish.
But this isn’t all that scripture says. Just after his words in Matthew 24 come the words of Matthew
25. And this is where we come down to what may be the right question to ask. Because there Jesus
tells us how to respond to suffering. Implicit is the message that God’s preferred way of dealing with
human anguish seems to be to use his children, those he indwells, to be his hands and his heart to
those in need. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave
you drink?” And the king answers, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who
are members of my family, you did it to me.”
You see, the question is not so much “Where is God in suffering?” It’s “How can I be the hands, and
the heart, and the voice of God to relieve that suffering, and to assure people that all will one
day be well in the hands of the God who loves them.” And when an embittered world asks, “Where’s
your God now?” The answer is that He’s right here. He’s here in the tens of thousands of people
who for decades have given up their own comfort to work behind the scenes in places like Haiti to
provide some modicum of comfort to its citizens. He’s in the airplanes and ships crowding its shores
to bring food and medicine. He’s in the people tearing at collapsed buildings with their bare hands
to rescue trapped children. He’s in those who even now are thinking about how we can build up that
poor, little nation so that nothing like this ever happens again in this way. God’s in the hearts of
those who open their pockets to send hard-earned money for aid.
Indeed, I know that God is here among his people right now urging us to help. In fact this is why we
believe Jesus instituted the Church. Because each little outpost of God’s kingdom like this church in
the Northeast Heights of Albuquerque, far away from the little country of Haiti, can be a place where
we gather not only to worship, but to mobilize and be about our Father’s business, as Deborah
Tischler preached a few weeks ago.
This morning, in addition to our regular collection we’re going to offer the opportunity to dig a little
deeper for the relief effort in Haiti. Following distribution of the regular offering plates we’re going to
pass around a couple of baskets into which to place any offerings you feel moved to give for the
people of Haiti. If you’d like to write a check for this, please write the words “Haiti Aid” in the memo
area. As I mentioned in yesterday’s email, unless otherwise directed, we’ll send these funds to
Episcopal Relief and Development, which has a good track record on things like this. If for any
reason you prefer to donate through the Anglican Relief and Development Fund, you can do
this by simply writing “ARD” after the words “Haiti Aid” on your memo line and that’s where it will go.
Let us pray. Heavenly Father, please bring comfort, healing and hope to our brothers and sisters in
Haiti. And bless and direct the deeds we do in your name, especially as we obey the words of your
Son Jesus Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen.
reference. Instead I’m going to be talking about something that I’m pretty sure is much more
immediate to many of us at the moment.
This past week we’ve been exposed to information and images that boggle the imagination and tear
at the heart. Unless you’ve been living in a cave you know by now that on Tuesday a very large
earthquake struck the nation of Haiti, and that there’s enormous and ongoing suffering that’s
happening as a result. At times like this we tend to be bombarded with many feelings. It’s normal to
feel shock and numbness, and it’s also normal to experience a wrenching sense of deep sympathy
for brothers and sisters on our human family tree. It’s normal to feel anger at the apparent injustice
of it all. And I’d venture to say that it’s normal and even healthy for us to ask hard questions.
Great suffering is a recurring reality in life on this earth. And each time it rears its hideous head on
a large scale we’re left to grapple with its meaning. One of the hardest and most persistent
questions for those of us who believe in a loving God is, “How can a loving and all-powerful God
allow this to happen? Why??” Folksinger Gordon Lightfoot once wrote a great song called “The
Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” about the sinking of an iron ore ship on Lake Superior with all
hands lost. There’s a line in it that forlornly asks, “Does anyone know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?”
I want to forewarn you that I’m not going to patronize you with an easy answer to this question. It’s
something that the greatest minds in Christianity have wrestled with over the centuries, and all who
do ultimately have to be honest enough to admit that there’s no easy or totally satisfying answer. It’s
complex, and, in the end, still tends to leave us pondering. Yet I think it’s too important an issue for
us not to deal with at a time like this.
I’d like to take a few minutes this morning at least to give us a few things to consider as each of us
try to come to grips with this week’s events. I begin with the unapologetic assumption that the
divinely-breathed scriptures speak truth when they describe our Creator God as One who loves us
deeply. He came to earth and died for us, and as Jesus the Son said, “Greater love has no one
than this.” That’s my starting point. At times I see very clear evidence of it, and at other times I
simply cling to it as truth given by God.
Having said that, I’d like first to mention some reactions to suffering that I personally find unhelpful.
The first of these is the glib and easy answer. On Wednesday we had a famous televangelist offer
an opinion that I and many others found over-simplistic and frankly, offensive. I’m not inclined to
belabor the matter with a complete description, but what it comes down to is an explanation that this
tragedy was a playing out of some kind of pact with the devil allegedly made back in the 1700’s by
some Haitian people desperate for freedom. I’m not sure where the televangelist got his information,
but I find this to contain precious little to comfort the millions of people now in anguish because of
the earthquake. I believe God would have us respond very differently than this, as we’ll see shortly.
Another response I find disturbing is the predictable sniping at people of faith. I read an op-ed piece
on Thursday from the New York Times essentially saying that all the victims are basically on their
own, and concluding sarcastically that perhaps even an absent God is better than no God at all.
For the thousands of people in Haiti who’ve been taking solace and comfort through prayer and
even the public singing of hymns since the earthquake, this is also decidedly unhelpful.
But what about our belief that God is all-loving and all-powerful? What gives here? Why did this
happen? Well, from the scriptures there are a number of explanations for the suffering that
happens on this earth. These are helpful for seeing and understanding some facets of suffering,
but ultimately still leave us with some questions.
The foremost explanation is that, owing to the evil that has dwelt on this planet from even before the
fall of humanity into sin, there’s been something terribly amiss. In fact it was God who gave us the
capacity to sense that something is wrong here. Because of evil, people do things that have real-life
consequences that hurt not only the guilty, but the innocent as well. And I think this is part of the
picture we see in Haiti. Much of the suffering there after this earthquake is the result of decades of
corruption, violence, and downright evil in their government, at least before a decade or two ago.
This has resulted in extreme poverty and vulnerability among it people. Houses there often collapse
even without earthquakes or hurricanes. What I’m saying is that, even though natural disasters
seem to be a recurring feature of life on this earth, much of the suffering that results from them can
be prevented or minimized. Largely because of human sin, this failed to happen in Haiti.
The flip side of this human responsibility issue is the question of how a country several hundred
miles from the richest nation on earth can be allowed to exist in such corruption and abject squalor
for so long. I personally think it can be legitimately asked how it is that we see fit to remove corrupt
governments half-way around the globe, but fail to deal adequately with the suffering right in our
own back yard. My intent here is not to be political, or oversimplify the very complex nature of
international relations, but I think this is a question we need finally to confront as we look at helping
Haiti to rebuild.
The question of why natural disasters are allowed to happen in the first place is a lot harder to
grasp. It’s one I had to deal with after the Cape Mendocino earthquakes in northern California in
1992. We had a 7.1, a 6.6, and a 6.7 all happen within an 18-hour period. I still remember the pale
and benumbed look of people in shock, wandering around aimlessly for days after the quakes. And
of course this was nothing compared to what happened in Haiti. As a disaster relief therapist what I
learned is that attempts to answer the question of “Why” usually don’t do a lot of good.
And this has led me and others to conclude that maybe we’re asking the wrong question entirely.
After all, suffering is present throughout the pages of scripture, Old and New Testaments. The Bible
is anything but Pollyannish about suffering. Job grappled with God in trying to understand suffering,
and his “helpful” friends who offered their own confident explanations were rebuked by God himself.
Psalm 46 assumes that disasters will happen, and assures us that “though the earth be moved, and
though the mountains be toppled into the depths of the sea; though its waters rage and foam, and
though the mountains tremble at its tumult, the Lord of hosts is with us, the God of Jacob is our
stronghold.”
Jesus says to believers, “In this world you will have trouble.” And then he says, “But take heart, I
have overcome the world.” He even predicts enormous suffering on this earth immediately
preceding his return to usher in the new age, with natural and human disasters combining to paint a
brief but hellish scenario. Why? Only God knows. But then in Matthew 24 Jesus says “They will see
the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory. And he will send his
angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of
the heavens to the other.”
Through these and many other examples from scripture what we hear is that, despite the horror and
suffering that happen from time to time in this life, God is still on His throne, the sufferings will pass,
and one day everything will be brought to where God has always wanted it to be, with no more tears
and no more suffering. In other words in order even to begin to deal with earthly suffering, it has to
be placed in the broader perspective of eternity. This is the message of comfort that we can bring
to those who are hurting, and this is the message already intuitively recognized by all those people
in Haiti crying out to Jesus and singing hymns in the midst of unimaginable anguish.
But this isn’t all that scripture says. Just after his words in Matthew 24 come the words of Matthew
25. And this is where we come down to what may be the right question to ask. Because there Jesus
tells us how to respond to suffering. Implicit is the message that God’s preferred way of dealing with
human anguish seems to be to use his children, those he indwells, to be his hands and his heart to
those in need. “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave
you drink?” And the king answers, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who
are members of my family, you did it to me.”
You see, the question is not so much “Where is God in suffering?” It’s “How can I be the hands, and
the heart, and the voice of God to relieve that suffering, and to assure people that all will one
day be well in the hands of the God who loves them.” And when an embittered world asks, “Where’s
your God now?” The answer is that He’s right here. He’s here in the tens of thousands of people
who for decades have given up their own comfort to work behind the scenes in places like Haiti to
provide some modicum of comfort to its citizens. He’s in the airplanes and ships crowding its shores
to bring food and medicine. He’s in the people tearing at collapsed buildings with their bare hands
to rescue trapped children. He’s in those who even now are thinking about how we can build up that
poor, little nation so that nothing like this ever happens again in this way. God’s in the hearts of
those who open their pockets to send hard-earned money for aid.
Indeed, I know that God is here among his people right now urging us to help. In fact this is why we
believe Jesus instituted the Church. Because each little outpost of God’s kingdom like this church in
the Northeast Heights of Albuquerque, far away from the little country of Haiti, can be a place where
we gather not only to worship, but to mobilize and be about our Father’s business, as Deborah
Tischler preached a few weeks ago.
This morning, in addition to our regular collection we’re going to offer the opportunity to dig a little
deeper for the relief effort in Haiti. Following distribution of the regular offering plates we’re going to
pass around a couple of baskets into which to place any offerings you feel moved to give for the
people of Haiti. If you’d like to write a check for this, please write the words “Haiti Aid” in the memo
area. As I mentioned in yesterday’s email, unless otherwise directed, we’ll send these funds to
Episcopal Relief and Development, which has a good track record on things like this. If for any
reason you prefer to donate through the Anglican Relief and Development Fund, you can do
this by simply writing “ARD” after the words “Haiti Aid” on your memo line and that’s where it will go.
Let us pray. Heavenly Father, please bring comfort, healing and hope to our brothers and sisters in
Haiti. And bless and direct the deeds we do in your name, especially as we obey the words of your
Son Jesus Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen.
Where is God in Suffering?
January 17, 2010
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton
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