Sermon 2 Christmas, Year A
Scripture  
Minister Wendy Billingslea
Location St. Andrew's Greensbro
Date January 2, 2005

 

Life can change in an instant. We know that, we know that well, yet we always seem surprised when it happens. All it takes to change life in an instant is one phone call, for example, or a diagnosis, or a driver not paying attention, or a hijacking, or…an earthquake. Who would have thought, as we peacefully celebrated the birth of Jesus on Christmas Eve only nine days ago, that six miles under the earth some gigantic plates were just hours away from colliding in the Indian Ocean? And who would have thought, as we sang “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright,” that calm was about to be shattered for millions of people from one continent clear across to another with the effects felt around the world?

I know you have followed, with shock and dismay, the news reports still coming in from halfway around the globe. The number of people who drowned from the tsunamis or from injuries they received as a result of the waves is impossible to comprehend. A generation of children from at least six different nations is dead. Earthquakes show no partiality, as people of all religious faiths – Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, and Christians – and a host of nations - have lost their lives. Many more will likely die from disease or perhaps even simple thirst before aid reaches them. The shape of thousands and thousands of families has been changed forever as grief takes up permanent residence. People have lost family members, homes, and businesses and are left, perhaps, with the clothes on their backs.
The enormity of this tragedy is ultimately incomprehensible to us. It certainly gives new meaning to the words we use in one of our Eucharistic prayers, when we pray about, “this fragile earth; our island home.” The earth that God has given unto our keeping has a life beyond our control. The laws of nature are laws we would not write, if such loss of life as we’ve seen over the last week, results. None of us would wish a hurricane, or a tornado, or an earthquake, or a tsunami, or a volcano on another human life. But sadly, I’ve already heard the evil and horrid voices of those who would claim that God sent this disaster and caused it to happen.

God doesn’t cause bad things to happen. God doesn’t cause cancer or car wrecks; God doesn’t will tsunamis or suicides; God doesn’t send tragedies or illness or natural disasters to prove a point or to punish us. But yet, our first question seems always to be, “Why, God?” We seem to not be able to help ourselves. “Why did you allow this to happen?” “What did I do to deserve this?” “Why me?”

Couldn’t a God who is all-powerful keep those plates under the earth from colliding together? Couldn’t a God who is all loving eradicate cancer and Down’s syndrome and Parkinson’s disease and all the other illnesses that diminish and ultimately devastate individuals and their loved ones? Couldn’t a God who is all knowing guide us so that we might not make war on each other as a way to solve our human conflicts and disagreements?

I’m here in this pulpit to tell you this morning that I don’t have all the answers. I question like you do. I struggle like you do. We used to make a joke in seminary that when we didn’t know the answer, that the answer, therefore, must be that it is a “holy mystery.” But I think we’ve all learned through our life experiences that there really are holy mysteries – things beyond our understanding and comprehension. I think many of us, like Job in the Old Testament, have yelled out to God at one time or another in our lives, “Why?”

But I am clear that the only answer to unwarranted suffering that makes any kind of sense to me is that it is not God’s will for us to suffer. A God who loves us, as I know God loves us, would never send suffering upon us to test us or to punish us, or to prove his sovereignty over ours. I can only tell you that it has been my experience, and the experience of countless others that God doesn’t will bad things to happen to us, whatever form those bad things may take, but works always to redeem the bad.
And most of the time, God redeems the suffering of human beings by the help and support, the love and care of other human beings. God has given us, in our human nature, a reflection of his divine nature – that nature of pure love itself. We have within us the capacity to respond in love to others who are suffering and thereby participate in the process of redemption. That’s actually what our collect for this morning sums up. “O God, who wonderfully created, and yet more wonderfully restored, the dignity of human nature: Grant that we may share the divine life of him who humbled himself to share our humanity, your Son Jesus Christ…”

In Jesus, we see the image of God perfected. It is the image of a God who loves without question, without boundary, without limits, and beyond all reason. In Jesus, we see the love of God made transparent in a human being. That is the way we are to love one another – so that we can see God himself in each other.

And, as this tragedy continues to unfold, we are already seeing God acting in love and compassion through the governments of the world, and through individuals throughout the human community. Pakistan, the avowed enemy of India, has sent money and aid and food and nurses and doctors. In Sri Lanka, the Hindus and Buddhists who have been at each other’s throats in war are now working shoulder to shoulder in relief efforts, looking for survivors, caring for the dead, digging through the rubble. In countries around the world, Christians and Hindus and Buddhists and Muslims are mounting relief efforts, collecting water and supplies, sending money, and pitching in to do what they can.
We see it in every massive human tragedy – the ability of human beings to work together to solve problems, to put aside their differences, to work collaboratively and cooperatively. There’s a generation here at St. Andrew’s today who saw this human capacity to redeem suffering at the end of World War II. In the aftermath of war, the allied nations pitched in to provide food and medical help to those in Europe and Japan who were enduring unspeakable suffering. And all of us today, young and old, witnessed the human capacity to redeem suffering following the terrorist attacks in our own country in 2001. Countless acts of kindness, countless acts of bravery, and countless acts of compassion helped to redeem the pain and suffering of many thousands of families.

God doesn’t send disasters. Instead, God creates us, as human beings, with the image of his very self, deep within us. When we act out of that divine image – when we reach out in love and compassion towards others – we are acting out of our very best instincts – the instincts of God within us. Oh, that it wouldn’t take a disaster to make that so.
Our parish will be responding, with thousands of other churches, mosques, synagogues and temples throughout this country, to help with the relief efforts halfway across the globe. The dollars we send in aid will make a difference. Our prayers will make a difference. We begin this New Year with the somber reminder that love is the divine image that is planted within us as human beings. Perhaps we will resolve in this New Year to act out of that divine image not just once in a while, in the wake of disasters and tragedies, but each day. Day by day. May God enfold in his eternal love and embrace those who have died. May God surround in his peace and compassion those who grieve. And may God direct and guide us to do what is right in his sight.

Amen.