By J. Michael Feazell
If God
loves people, why does he wipe them out? We inevitably ask that after a
disaster. Like when the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami on the day after
Christmas in 2004 shook the faith of religious people the world over. What
kind of God would kill 200,000 people in a single stroke?
And now the disastrous earthquake
in Haiti on January 12, 2010, along with its crippling aftershocks, raises
the question again. Where was God when tens of thousands were being crushed,
maimed and trapped in rubble until they died of thirst or starvation if not
their injuries? If God is all powerful, surely he could have stopped it. So
why didn’t he?
Who’s to blame?
"God didn’t do it; he just allowed
it," some say. Maybe they think that’s a good defense. I don’t, and I doubt
you do. Allowing something that you could stop is not much better than doing
it yourself.
When something bad happens, we
want someone to blame. When the bad thing is a natural disaster, there’s no
one left to blame but God. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, tidal waves,
lightning strikes. The insurance companies call them "acts of God." Nobody
is to blame—nobody except God, that is.
The
Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 and the Haitian earthquake are just recent
examples in a long line of history’s mind-numbing natural disasters. Looking
back, more than 3.5 million died in the North Korean floods and famine of
1995-98. More than 900,000 died in the Ethiopian famine of 1984. Two hundred
forty-two thousand died in the Tangshan, China, earthquake of 1976. The
Ethiopian famine of 1974 claimed 200,000.
The Bangladesh sea flood of 1970
took 200,000-500,000. China’s famine of 1960 took 20 million. One million
died in the flu pandemic of 1957, and up to 100 million died in the flu
pandemic of 1918. Earthquakes in Nansan, China, in 1927 and in Gansu, China,
in 1933 killed 200,000 each. Up to one million died in Huayan Kou, China, in
the Yangtse Kiang flooding of 1887.
The French smallpox epidemic in
1870-71 killed 500,000. One million died from the Irish famine of 1845. The
Iran earthquake of 1780 killed 200,000. Ten million died in the Bengal,
India, famine of 1769. The Shensi, China, earthquake of 1556 claimed
800,000. And the black plague of Europe and Asia in 1346-42 took 25 million
lives.
People ask, why does a loving God
let such astounding mayhem happen?
I have another question. Why does
God let anyone die?
Not
long ago, I attended the funeral of a woman who was celebrated for her many
personal ministries of love. She died of cancer, and her suffering was
nothing short of horrible. A friend’s teenage daughter died in a fiery car
crash on slick winter roads. She was on break from a Christian college, and
her suffering and the grief of her parents, relatives and friends was every
bit as real as the suffering and grief of any individual who died in a
tornado, a tsunami or an earthquake.
Why did God let Grandma die? "She
was old," someone might say. "It’s the natural way of things. We grow old
and die."
Yes, it is the natural way of
things. Bodies wear out. Plaque builds up in arteries, and if enough builds
up, it cuts off the blood flow and causes strokes or heart attacks.
Sometimes cells get mixed up and go crazy, becoming cancer cells and
disrupting the tissues and organs around them. Over time bones lose their
density and an accidental fall can break a hip. Joints lose their
elasticity. Eyes lose their sharpness.
The ground erodes too, and the
earth’s crust shifts. Water evaporates. Rain falls. Rivers rise. Winds blow.
Even healthy people and young people can get hit by falling rocks or flying
debris. People get caught in flash floods, mudslides and collapsed
mineshafts.
People fall off roofs, out of
windows and off scaffoldings. Sometimes it happens when they are doing
humanitarian work, trying to help or save someone else. And God, far, far
more often than not, sits by and watches it happen without lifting a finger
to stop it.
When someone we love grows old and
dies of "natural causes" we accept it as the way God has designed the
creation—there’s a time to be born and a time to die.
But when someone we love dies
before growing old, we ask, "Why would God allow this to happen?"
Not an automaton creation
No doubt, God could have made the
universe in such a way that nothing ever went wrong. But he didn’t. He
created a world that is free to be itself—and to express its identity in
continually fresh and creative ways. For some reason, he thinks that is
good.
Maybe that’s because it takes such
a world, a wild and free world, to be the breeding ground for things God
values in human beings—things like courage, devotion, loyalty,
self-sacrifice, kindness, generosity, hope, trust. By anybody’s reckoning
these are a few of the noblest features of humanity. Would such qualities
exist in a world without risk, danger, calamity—and death?
And where would love be in such a
world? Love isn’t just a matter of getting along. Love is made real in the
crucible of suffering, of self-sacrifice, of loyalty and devotion against
the odds.
"Oh really," someone might say.
"If God thinks that is so great, why doesn’t he just come down here and go
through what we go through in his so-called good creation?" Well, that’s
just what Christians believe he did. And just like death happens to every
one of us, he died. But Christians believe that his death changed death
itself. He made death a pathway to resurrection, to new life, to a new
creation in which "there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain."
As much as we hate to admit it and
hate to talk about it and throw stones at those who do, we all die. We all
die of something. Whether we die of "natural causes" or of "natural
disasters" makes little difference in the end. Either way, we die, and
nothing will stop it, regardless of how kind we are or how mean we are or
how smart, careful or wise we are. But the good news is, regardless of how
or when we die, Jesus resurrects the dead.
God could stop all natural
movement of earth, air and water. He could stop humans from making mistakes,
making unwise decisions, being selfish, or stubborn or rude. God could have
made a "Stepford Wives" style creation in which everything worked
automatically. But he didn’t. God created a world in which something far
more valuable than long physical life could exist. He made a world in which
love can exist and grow. In love, humans pull together and respond to
suffering and calamity. In love, humans forgive one another, help one
another, encourage one another and stand by one another.
God suffers with us
God is not a stranger to human
suffering. Christians believe that God became a man, suffered as a human and
died as a human, and because of that, humanity itself has been taken up into
God’s own being. In Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, humanity’s cause is now
God’s cause. When we suffer, God suffers with us.
God loved the world so much, John
the Gospel writer recorded, that God gave his Son that whoever believes in
him would have new life. God sent his Son to save the world, he added, not
to condemn it (see John 3:16-17).
Death is part of life, and every
person who lives will also die. Even you and even me. But death is not the
end of the story of our lives.
God did not make human beings
merely for this life of suffering and grief—he made us for his new creation
of fulfillment and joy. The lives cut short now, deprived now, stifled now,
cheated now, will find their fulfillment in the life of the new creation.
This is the Christian hope, and Christians hold this hope in faith—faith
that God who freely took up our human cause as his own, even to the point of
dying like a criminal as one of us, is true to his word. Every person who
dies will also live.
In this hope and in this love, we
extend compassion and help to others. As we do, we experience the deepest
riches of true life, riches that are unseen but more real than physical
security and safety. Love truly does "make the world go ’round."