Responding to Tragedy

One week ago, a devastatingly horrific tragedy hit the community of Newtown, Connecticut. While many agonized over why a sovereign God would allow such a thing to happen, sadly (albeit not unpredictably) some Christian leaders were quick to chalk it up to the fact that our (supposed) once "Christian nation" had "turned its back on God."

This post by Peter Wehner does an excellent job of summing up my reaction to such comments and I recommend you read it. But if you lack the time or the desire, please at least read this one very helpful paragraph from it:

The workings of God in the midst of tragedy cannot be reduced to a simplistic moral mathematics in which sin yields to disaster, in part because America is not a covenant community on the model of ancient Israel. The community of faith is found in every nation.  Believers share the blessings and tragedies of their neighbors. Rather than declaring the suffering of their neighbors to be deserved, they should work and pray for the common good.

Click here to read the entire post.

(HT: Daniel Rose)

Questions in the Face of Tragedy

In the midst of the tragic shootings in Aurora, Colorado, we are left once again asking the same questions such terrible events inevitably prompt: Why did this happen? What is it we could have done differently to avoid such a terrible occurrence? Who ultimately is to blame? Collin Hansen's blog post at The Gospel Coalition looks back to another horrific murder, and offers the best response to these questions I've read yet. In it he writes: 

Jesus knew exactly who to blame for his impending execution. He stared into the faces of the chief priests and scribes who sought his death. He answered to Pilate, who signed his death sentence. And yet, when he looked out on these murderers from the excruciating elevation of the cross, he prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34).

No cry of why will satisfy our search for a reasonable explanation to the horrors of this age. But the God-man who cried, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" comforts us in our grief (Matt 27:46). Even more, his unjust death and ultimate triumph in resurrection is the very means by which we can begin even now to enjoy never-ending peace with the "Father of mercies and God of all comfort" (2 Cor 1:3).

Jesus had no illusions about why the nations rage. They rage in their sin, against their God, going so far as to put God in human flesh to death. But such evil plots in vain, because the ascended Jesus promises to return in justice. He will hold his and the Aurora movie theater's murderers to account. And he will usher in the safety and security of the new heavens and new earth for all who believe in him.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away" (Rev. 21:4).

You can read the whole post here.

"Weep With Those Who Weep"

This Sunday, on the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, I will be preaching from John 11:32-37, which is a portion of the story of Jesus' raising of Lazarus from the dead. In it we will see find many of the same difficult questions and doubts that perhaps we dealt with ten years ago:

Was God not powerful enough to prevent it? Or did he just not care enough to bother? What kind of God is this, anyway?

As I've prepared for this sermon though, one thought has struck me more than any other. I shared it yesterday on Facebook and many seemed to appreciate it, so I thought I'd share it here as well. It was this little piece of pastoral advice:

When ministering to those in mourning, resist the urge to lead off by quoting Romans 8:28 ("And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.") Instead, try living out Romans 12:15 ("Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.")

That is in no way to dispute the truth of Romans 8:28. It is every bit as true in the face of terrible suffering as it is on the best of our days. But in the most raw and tender moments of pain, what is needed, far more than answers and explanations, is an equally tender response. It is what John 11:35 (the shortest verse of the Bible) tells us our savior offered: "Jesus wept."