“Where is God When…Natural Disaster Strikes?”

Corey Fields

1 Kings 19:11-13

Romans 8:18-25

            Where is God when natural disaster strikes?  This was a difficult sermon to write, for at least two reasons.  First, I’m not sure I can offer anything of an answer.  It’s an issue I struggle with myself.  A part of me wants to make this a very short sermon:  “Where is God when natural disaster strikes?  I don’t know.  Amen.”  Secondly, this is a tough sermon because I know that, for some, it will challenge some dearly-held pre-conceived notions of God.  As Joe said in a recent STAR newsletter, “Sometimes…we are forced to strip away some notions of God that just won’t stand up to the questions. It’s hard to part from old and comforting ideas.”  This is exactly the kind of thing that I’ve had to do, and that I think all honest people of faith have to do.

            David was on his way to pick up his daughter from a local elementary school when he got a strange phone call from a school official at the Jr. High school where his son attends.  “David,  your son is telling me that he needs to get home…someone at school is telling him that a house in your neighborhood is on fire.”  ‘Why would they call me about that?’ David thought.  ‘Oh well,’ he said to himself, ‘at least it’s not our house.’  A little while later, David turns into his neighborhood and sees the flames and smoke.  The closer he gets, the more it looks like it’s all coming from his house.  He sees the red lights, he sees the neighbors looking on.  He pulls up to his house.  It had nearly burned to the ground.  Firefighters had already been there an hour or so fighting the flames.  Faulty electrical wire.

            House fires aren’t always included in the lists of “natural disasters,” but for me it’s close enough.  The family lost a lot.  Clothes, pictures, furniture.  The following week I was talking to David about what was lost, and he said, “The important stuff is safe.”  I said, “What’s the important stuff?”  He said, “My wife and kids.”  David is a very quiet man.  He minds his own business, and as far as anyone can tell, he’s just trying to get himself back on his feet.  David’s father’s name is Ken.  Ken is an extravert who will talk your ear off.  You might also say that Ken wears his faith on his sleeve.  After all this happened, he was quick to tell me a story.  Ken told me about how the family was rummaging through the burnt house, looking for salvageable items.  As they went into the bedroom of David’s oldest son, they saw sitting on a table the son’s wallet, fully intact.  The wallet had important stuff…money, pictures, a new driving permit.  Most of the room was burnt; the wallet looked as if it had been carefully preserved.  Ken ended this story by saying, “The Lord is good!”  Now, I’m a person who struggles with the James chapter 3 sin.  Taming the tongue.  I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut.  This particular instance, I couldn’t.  The words just leapt out of my mouth.  I said to Ken, “If the Lord is good, why didn’t he stop the fire in the first place?”  Ken was a bit taken aback, but hedidn’t even have to think.  He said, “I don’t fully understand God’s ways, He’s a mystery, but I know He has a purpose.”

            Well, isn’t that just too easy?!  Whenever something good happens, we credit it to God’s account.  Whenever something bad happens, we sink back into a claim of human ignorance and say, “God’s a mystery.”  Good stuff = God’s good.  Bad stuff = God’s a mystery.  Folks, if you’re convinced by that sort of thing, you’re welcome.  I’m not.  If God saves wallets while he lets houses burn, I’m not interested.  I have a humble confession to make:  I’m truly baffled by this.  But I hear it all the time.  Every time a natural disaster hits the news, somebody whose property and loved ones weren’t affected gets on TV talking about how prayer works and how God was good to them.  What about everybody else?  Are we going to assume that they didn’t pray, or that they didn’t pray correctly?  And even if they didn’t, are we going to assume that God sits up in heaven with his arms crossed refusing to help us until we pray?  What kind of horrible picture of God does this paint?  I heard a soldier on TV who had come home from Iraq and he told this miraculous story of how he ran into enemy fire and he had seen something that looked like a hand coming down in front of him, stopping the bullets, and God saved his life.  There have been 4000 American casualties in Iraq since the start of the war.  God stopped the bullet for him?  Prayer works, he said.  What do you mean prayer works?  Like my coffee machine “works?”  I push a button and it starts to go.

            This is not an exercise I usually try, but pretend you’re God.  There’s an electrical failure in David’s house.  A fire starts.  What would you do?  Would you let the house burn and save the wallet, or would you save the house?

            Pretend you’re God.   There’s an earthquake in the Indian Ocean that has caused a tsunami wave, and it’s headed for Indonesia, Sri Lanka and many other underdeveloped countries.  This tidal wave will cause the immediate death of thousands and the slow, painful death of hundreds of thousands due to diseases caused by walking in water full of feces and dead bodies.  If you were God, would you help get a few American vacationers home safely, or would you stop the wave? 

            If, by virtue of common sense, we end up smarter and more ethical than God, our theology probably needs some work.  We have a problem here.  Where is God when natural disaster strikes?  More importantly, WHO is God when natural disaster strikes?  I think we can address this question in two main ways…one is very theological, and the other is (hopefully) very practical.

            Paul says some interesting things about nature – about creation – in the Romans passage we read earlier.  Much like human beings groan and wait and hope for a new and future day when God will make everything right, Paul says that every other part of creation – nature itself – is groaning and waiting and hoping for that new day.  Paul seems to say that, much like humans, creation and nature itself remains a slave to decay.  The creation motif is unique among Paul’s writings, but he does often feature this idea of “already but not yet.”  The idea is that God’s kingdom and Christ’s forgiveness are already a reality in our lives and in the world, but they haven’t been fully realized.  To put it one way, God has already won the poker game, but he hasn’t cashed in his chips yet.  Paul uses the analogy of labor pains:  we’re in the delivery room, but baby’s not hear yet!  Christ has won the victory, but the world is not yet as it should be and as it will be.  And this includes nature itself.  Creation itself is in need of redemption.

            So how exactly does God relate to His creation?  Let’s go back to Genesis for a second.  Notice 2 important things here in Genesis 1.  First, God’s act of creating is not direct.  The language of this passage is causative…God isn’t doing it all himself, He’s just laying the groundwork.  Look at the language:  “Let the…”  God laid the groundwork and let nature do the rest.  Secondly, notice how God creates.  It doesn’t say he did it with His hands.  It doesn’t say He did it with miracles and lightning bolts.  He created with His voice.  God spoke…and it was so.  God spoke:  a relational act.  An act of communication.  We see this even more in Genesis 2:  [[next part of screen 4]]

Now let’s go back to Elijah.  All of these “natural disasters”…the windstorm, the earthquake, the fire…God was nowhere to be found.  He wasn’t there.  God was to be found not in these natural phenomena but in an act of relationship and communication…a whisper.  God was not in these powerful acts of nature.  He was simply speaking within and to Elijah.  This is right before Elijah calls Elisha to succeed him.  It’s almost as if God says, “What are you doing here?  I’ve got work for you to do.”

So, here’s what we see in these biblical passages   (Read through each of them). 

And here’s what I think this means.  God has not chosen to act as a puppet master who has every element of creation tied to a string that he controls and manipulates and stops and starts.  God is a personal, relational spirit who lives in covenant with us.  When Paul was speaking to the people of Athens in the book of Acts, he put it this way:  God is, as Paul Tillich would say, the Ground of All Being.  And so, where is God when natural disaster strikes?  The same place He’s always been.  In you and among us.

That’s the theological answer.  What does this mean practically?   When a tornado rips our house to shreds, or when a tsunami drowns countless people, or when a hurricane sends thousands fleeing their homes and families…when it happens to us, we can know that God is right where He’s always been.  To some, that might not be very comforting.  But it’s the best I’ve got.

But when it happens to someone else, we had better be standing right there next to them.  When people ask me, “Where is God?  Why did this happen?”, I have to say “I don’t have those answers, and I think that this is just as horrible and devastating as you do.  I don’t know why this has to happen, but I know where God’s people are, and we are right here.  Boots strapped, hammers in hand, shoulders ready to cry on.  Our faith teaches us to love God and love people, and so here we are, and we want to walk with you.”  That’s where God is when natural disaster strikes.