“I could never myself believe in God if it were not for the Cross. In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?” – John Stott
Throughout this week, part of me hoped that we were in the midst of a bad dream and all we need to do is wait to wake up. But that hasn’t been the case and we grapple with the questions. Questions about campus security, the actions or non actions of the administration, killer profile, etc. The events have raised a lot of questions, but not many answers.
Lost in many of these critical questions are the many lives that were lost. What emerges as we look at the lives of these 32 innocent, bright, students and professors is the bigger existential question: “Where was God in all of this?”
It’s a question that continues to be asked by people in the face of great loss and tragedy. Philosophers and theologians have wrestled with this very question for ages. It’s a question that continues to be a stumbling block for many people. Although this is a natural and legitimate question, it is also not a new one, but an old one.
“If you had been here, my brother would not have died” (v.21)
A few days ago, Mary’s brother, Lazarus was getting sicker and sicker. They sent someone for Jesus in hopes that he could help. He gets the memo: “Lord, the one who you love is sick” (v.3). You figure that out of anyone, Jesus would quickly come to their aid since they are close to Jesus, and Jesus loves them dearly which is affirmed in v.5. But curiously, Jesus does not intervene. In fact he stayed where he was for two more days. Meanwhile, the sisters are left waiting and wondering where Jesus was in their most desperate circumstance. But the unthinkable happens. Lazarus, whom Jesus loved, is dead.
Once again, the question inevitably comes up, “Where is God when we needed him the most?”
The healing that they longed for did not happen. Jesus gave no explanation of his timing, but he did show her that there was a reason: to demonstrate his power over death.
Martha went to get Mary back at the house as she was mourning. Mary rushed out of the house to meet Jesus and asks the same question: “Lord if you had been here, my brother would have not died”. Here we get part of the answer to the question. In the face of pain, suffering and tragedy, it would seem that God would be the most absent. But from what we see of Jesus, this is not true.
In response to Mary’s question and weeping, as he sees all the mourners around him, he doesn’t say a word. Jesus is deeply moved in spirit and troubled. The only thing Jesus could ask, was “where have you laid him?”. They bring him to the tomb.
In v.35, which happens to be the shortest verse of the bible, John records that “Jesus wept”. That one verse containing two short words, most succinctly yet profoundly begins to answer the question, “where was God in all of this”. Jesus wept, certainly because he loved Lazarus, Mary and Martha. We see Jesus overwhelmed and moved as he saw all the people around him mourning and grieving alongside them. Jesus, in his humanity does not distance himself from the pain and loss that surrounded him. He immersed himself in it.
It’s strange don’t you think? Jesus knows all along what is going to happen next. Jesus knows that resurrection is just around the corner. Why is Jesus so affected by what he sees?
A commentator puts it this way:
Because he knows what has happened. Lazarus is dead. Jesus weeps and reminds us that any death, even one death, is a destruction of the good plan of God, the way he made this world. It is a corruption of the universe. It will require even the death of God’s Son to put things right. And in the meantime, God’s people will experience pain and misery in a fallen world. And that is distressing enough, awful enough, terrible enough that even Jesus has tears about it. Perhaps Jesus in addition to immersing himself in the pain that surrounded him also was looking ahead to the reality that one day, he himself would have to endure opposition from sinful men. But Jesus was endure a death in which his own creation would reject him, and levy the greatest injustice against him. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 2 Cor 5:21
Where is God in the midst of these tragedies? We may have a lot of “why” questions. There will be many who attempt to explain things either from a psychological, sociological, and theological angle. Some might be helpful, but most attempts will be wholly inadequate. People looking for answers in order to make sense of the senseless. Many don’t know how to properly deal with the loss and devastation. Some look to find answers, to do something about it, to prevent these things from happening again, which is appropriate to an extent, but for a later time.
As Christians we do have certainties. We do know the final chapters. Jesus himself said so that “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory…” Looking to the future certainly gives us hope that each moment of pain and suffering is not wasted, but being used for good.
John Stackhouse notes the impossibility of understanding the plan of God. He argues that trust in God must come first and only then can we begin to learn and accept his purposes. Jesus tears shows us he is here presently in our suffering. But Jesus’ tears show us that he is all the more present, not absent in times of trouble. He has tremendous compassion and care for those who are suffering, and hurting. Jesus models for us the idea that as human beings, we need to join with the rest of humanity to mourn and weep with those who lost so much. Instead of providing trite answers to rid ourselves of awkwardness, perhaps its best to be silent, let your actions to the communicating. Let your presence be a course of healing for them.
When Mother Teresa was asked the question “Where is God in moments of tradegy?”, she replied, “God is suffering with them.” But perhaps the better question to ask is, “Where are you?”. Meaning, God is present in people’s suffering and loss, but where are you? We can distance ourselves from the pain around us. Sometimes it can be overwhelming, yet experiencing mourning and loss is part of God’s design. But I believe that much of our culture shields itself as much as possible from suffering to the point where we don’t know how to process our pain.
We chose to ask many questions, assign blame, look for redemption before loss is truly experienced. My guess is that this shortcircuits the true healing process. When we are in denial, we remain at arms length thinking that is the best way in which we can move on.
But the reality is that this is the world we live in. We live in an age when senseless things happen. We live in an age of terror. In the last 6 years, our area alone has experienced 9/11, DC sniper attacks, and now this. I don’t think I’m overstating the case that this is just the beginning.
We are really joining the rest of the world because such loss is a daily reality. For example, the day after 4.16.07, over 200 people died in Iraq. Once again, senseless violence as gone unnoticed. All around the world, these things are reality.
Theologian David Wells noted that after he made regular trips to the poorest sections of S. Africa, he began to realize that what we experience here in the States (wealth, secure borders, abundance) is normal. But when you travel the world you begin to realize that we are the abnormal ones.
We too quickly want to move on with our lives, but sometimes we miss the blessings that mourning and grieving does bring about for why would Jesus say that it is “blessed to mourn?”
We all need to ask ourselves, where are we? Are we present in this world of pain and suffering? Will we allow permission for us to weep with those who weep, and mourn with those who mourn?
As Christians, through our actions and love, may we communicate the hope that indeed there doesn’t not have to be a finality to death. Jesus made things right when he himself died and rose again so that anyone who would believe in him would have life. May this certainty be our source of strength during times like these.
