My daughter leant me "Humans of New York", a book form of a popular blog (which I have yet to check out, but I think I will). They are pictures of New Yorkers and their stories, maybe a line, maybe a few paragraphs. One of them stabbed my heart.
There was a former pastor, been in the faith for years, now challenged out of his faith with questions of God's favoritism. Why would God save one person out of ninety in a plane crash? (I am paraphrasing) The one is championed, the others are forgotten, how do we process a God who acts that way?
How do we indeed?
I am not preparing to leave the ministry over this question. But I am challenged by it. Am I comfortable in my own skin with how I answer that question? Should I be comfortable in my own skin with how I answer that question? Is there even an answer to that question?
One of the first stories that I read that touched on the theme of life and death outside of a 'churchie' environment was "The Most Dangerous Game". Man hunting man. It speaks to how central and how trivial questions of life and death can appear. Because the story was thrilling, who would live? Who would die?
But that is a story. And yet, I am seeking the story to answer the question of "why God chooses certain people..."
The easy escape is to immediately confess ignorance. Put it all back on God. God does what God wants. God's purpose is greater than our understanding. Tie that in to a basic presupposition that the Christian God is good and does things for a reason, and we can just blame our own ignorance for not 'understanding why'.
Consider some more reasoned responses:
Lining up human understanding of death and disaster with a presupposition that God is Good even in moments of disaster can erode our faith in that God.
Assuming that life is random, a "crap shoot", that 's--t' happens, that divorces God from the bad things that happen. God either cannot intervene (lack of power) or will not intervene (lack of will) in this definition. If God isn't in the game, why bother with God?
Here is where I have gotten, thus far.
Bad things happen. It's life, bad things and good things happen. I focus on the human response. What can we do after to respond, reply, and recover? 9/11 is the basis of this thinking. Such a horrible occurrence generated such a powerful, good response. I do not see God in the moments when the planes struck the Twin Towers, but in the hearts and lives of those who stepped up to respond.
And this is a start. My theology of disaster isn't finished, not by any means.
