Responding to Suffering...and terrible theology

I attended a prayer vigil at a local high school recently. I was not there in any official capacity – just as a show of support for our community in a very difficult time.

I hesitate to be too specific, because…well…

Anyway, at this vigil I heard some terrible theology. Not just run of the mill terrible theology but damaging, twisted theology. I’d call it downright heresy. Taking the name of the Lord in vain. Bastardizing the gospel. Whatever you want to call it.

A local youth pastor spoke and I expected some “Everything happens for a reason” sorts of platitudes. But what I heard went far beyond any innocent twisting of a text to help young people deal with horrible tragedy.

Long story short – There was a traffic accident last week. One car. 5 teenagers from two different high schools. 3 died. 2 (driver & 1 passenger) were severely injured but will survive. The vigil was to offer support for a bunch of hurting folks, to remember those who lost their lives, and to show support for the two young ladies who survived.

So, the youth minister – He began well. “This is an awful tragedy.” “Kids cut down in the prime of their lives.” “Two lives that will never be the same.”

So far, so good.

He followed that with sort of what I expected. “God has a plan.” “Everything happens for a reason.” “All things work together…”

I disagree with his interpretation, but OK, nothing I’ve not heard before.

Then came the “Whammy.”

He went into a bit of “Don’t question God. Don’t ask, 'Why?'" Again, I disagree, but nothing new. He continued, “But if you do ask, 'Why?' I think God is looking down and saying, 'Why not?'"

What?

“Why not take two or three if I can gain 200-300.”

At that point my jaw dropped. I looked over at a Presbyterian pastor friend. His hand flew to his mouth. I honestly could not believe what I was hearing.

Did he really just say that?

He said it again. “Why not?” I cannot describe the explicatives that raced through my mind. He kept going, but the noise in my head was too loud to hear much of what he said after that.

I thought about the families of those three boys – one of which was in attendance, I believe. Did they believe God killed their son? Did they believe that God would answer their question with such a crass, sarcastic statement? “Why not?”

I thought about anyone in the huge crowd who was not a Christian or who had turned their back on the church. What must they think?

I thought about going and wrestling the microphone away from him. To scream until I was tackled by law enforcement, “NO! That’s not God’s response! God’s response to your tears is tears! God’s response to your heart being ripped from your chest is empathy and compassion – not ‘because I said so’. When we scream out, ‘God, I’m hurting!’ God does not answer, ‘So what? My plan, your pain.’”

Today, I picked up a book I’ve not read in a while. Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Lament for a Son. It is a beautiful, heart-wrenching glimpse into the heart and mind of a grieving father. It is a real-time look at a father trying to come to terms with the death of his young, adult son. It is one man’s wrestling match with God and God’s goodness and God’s omnipotence and his pain, as well as the pain and the wounds that each of us experience just by being human.

This quote stood out to me: “The wounds of humanity are an unanswered question” (p. 68). We don’t like questions with no answers.

We want meaning. We want answers. We want the end of a young, vibrant life to mean something – for there to be a reason. We want to ask – to scream – “Why, God, why?!?”

I don’t have the answers. I don’t know why. I don’t know why three died and two did not. I don’t know why three young, beautiful boys are no more and two young, beautiful girls will carry physical and emotional scars for the rest of their lives.

I do know this; God did NOT kill those kids. God did NOT cause a car to skid into a tree to teach a lesson or to prove a point or to punish or to “gain another angel” or to “win more kids to Jesus” or to advance some sick, greedy agenda. I know that God did not DO this.

I also know that God was and is there in the tragedy – in the suffering.

I found another quote from Nicholas Wolterstorff – “Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it” (p. 81). God does not see our suffering as some sort of investment or as a means to an end. Wolterstorff again:

God is love. To love our suffering sinful world is to suffer. God so suffered for the world that he gave up his only Son to suffering…God is suffering love…But the mystery remains…Why does God endure suffering? Why does he not at once relieve his agony by relieving ours? (p. 90)

God’s answer to our “Why?” is not a gruff, distant “Why not?” I believe God’s answer is “I’m sorry. I’m here. I love you.”

Let your response to suffering be the same. Don’t respond with platitudes or definitive declarations. Just say, “I’m sorry. I’m here. I love you.” Then be sorry, be there, and love. It’s what Jesus would do.