Holding On
This week, the first of the dozen funerals which must take place to bury Derrick Bird's victims provided a focus for a grieving Cumbrian community, still raw from the shock of last week's tragic events.
As journalists tried to unearth facts that would elucidate 'why', the unsettling fact emerged: Bird was normal, gregarious even. He lived a simple life, a regular at his local where he enjoyed a sociable pint days before he turned his gun on neighbours, colleagues and his twin. What made his crime so chilling was its seemingly motiveless irrationality.
When faced with the stark reality of apparently random killing, it can be hard to cling to the knowledge that God remains Lord. It can seem callous when faced with the unpredictability of death to demand stalwart trust in God's providential love and his ultimate, unstoppable plan to bring all things to unity under Christ. But tough faith does not mean tough love, as Christ demonstrates time and again in his life on earth. When Lazarus dies, even though Christ foresees his imminent raising to life, he mourns with Mary and Martha; pointing them to the future end of suffering at the resurrection as primary comfort.
Similarly, as he embarks on his ministry, while offering physical relief for pain, he introduces the paradox at the heart of the gospel, proclaiming: 'Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh'.
To live as saved people is to live as aliens in a world where evil occurs everyday. Mass homicide confronts us with uncomfortable questions that can drive right to the heart of our Christian confidence, but it also serves as a reminder that we are in 'exile', holding out for the promise of final restoration. Although this feels, at times, painfully distant, we have a solid hope that God will ultimately deliver us from all this world's hostility in gathering us safely to himself; there must be weeping now, but sorrow will eventually be transformed into joy.
It should not be a surprise that evil happens, and our reaction to those touched by its consequences, whatever shape that takes, needs to be modelled on Jesus: honest in the acknowledgement of human tragedy, prepared to apply practical or emotional relief wherever possible, and confident enough to point to the cross as the only real solution.
Though surrounded by evil, our faith demands we trust in God's ultimate judgment and protection so that others might see the truth alive in us.
It's all fine to point to the resurrection as an end to suffering until you've lost a loved one who wasn't a believer. How do you cope with that?
Date:
2010-06-11 10:32:07
Author:
Karin