Stuff Happens - one Christian's perspective on Haiti

In another place, actually the politics & life board of a cycling forum, I've been engaged in a discussion, at times it has turned into a debate, about a certain American pastor's comments on the causes of the Haiti earthquake. He made some connection between the earthquake and the Haitian forebears making a pact with the Devil. In short, their sinfulness brought it on their own heads. Maybe the man involved hasn't really digested the message of the end of Chapter 12 and beginning of Chapter 13 of Luke's Gospel.

In this life tragedies occur aka 'stuff happens'. Sometimes they are near at hand and our responses have to be pragmatic, useful and direct. Urgent and instinctive even. You don't discuss theology with a grieving parent, or debate philosophy with an orphan Often 'stuff happens' a long way away and we have no direct involvement but rather have an opportunity to pause and reflect. Sometimes 'stuff happens' intentionally by our own actions or the actions of others or indeed inactions, sometimes stuff has accidental, or inexplicable, or unpreventable causes which stem from the fact that we, and the world we live in, are not perfect. We are all broken, fallen, creatures living in a broken world. Regardless of the cause of any tragedy, individual or collective, we should never conclude that the tragedies are some sort of indicator of a divine judgement against against the victims or conclude that the victims deserved what happened because of their own wrong doing. That is not to say God may not exercise judgement on occasions but rather that is not for us to claim to be able to discern the Divine Will in these situations. If we do our listeners will hear us say "Look at them, those sinners, they have been punished. They got what they deserved. We have not been punished. We are blessed. We are not sinners or at least less worse sinners than them." Jesus had a lot to say to the people of his day who expressed these views. They were self-righteous hypocrites then and are self-righteous hypocrites today. Every time that sort of thinking enters my head and heart, as all to often it does, I find a private place and read Luke 12 & 13 again.

Despite working for an international charity I have no special knowledge of Haiti. I do know that some of our partners are missing at present. Apart from that all I know of the situation has come unbidden into my living room, via TV and radio, social media and newspaper report. I responded, practically, in the only ways I know how. I've made donations to the DEC and CAFOD. I've got on my knees and prayed for those affected by this disaster, for those on the ground offering assistance, and for the repose of the souls of those who died, and this is what entered my heart....

Life is an incredibly precious and fragile thing. We get one stab at it, this is not a dress rehearsal for the real performance. This life is it and we are all, one day, going to die. In the light of the fragility and uncertainty of life and the sheer unpredictability of the future, rather than looking at the victims of disaster and pointing the finger, or trying to explain or justify things as 'acts of God', we should each reflect on our own lives, resolve to put and keep them in order for the good of all, and try now, today, right this minute, to make redress for any harm we've done to date, and resolve to love God, the world and everyone and everything in it just as hard as we can. Because tomorrow may be too late, because it may turn out that we may not have a tomorrow.

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish

Posted via email from greg collins' posterous