April 20, 2007
On Monday, I was with a group of administrative staff members from various college campuses in eastern Ohio. In the early afternoon, some students approached and in a quiet, stunned voice one said, “Twenty students were just shot to death at Virginia Tech.” Too shocked to move, no one said anything for a long moment. Then questions began to fly, “who”, “why”, and “what happened” coming from a dozen mouths all at once.
No televisions or computers were readily available, but by using a cell phone, we were able to quickly learn what exactly was being reported at the time. As the afternoon progressed, we occasionally received updates as to details of the shootings while an overarching sense of horror grew and intensified. By the end of the day, thirty-two people had been murdered by "a loner" who was characterized as being “silent and standoffish”.
In one short morning, the entire world somersaulted for the community of Blacksburg, Virginia. Bodies were broken, dreams were shattered, and lives were snuffed out. The tragedy grew and grew, bringing with it a firestorm of anguish that will never completely heal while this world lasts.
As people discussed the terrible events that had taken place, the question arose (quite naturally I might add), “Isn’t there ANY place that one can be safe?” On the one hand, the answer is, of course, “No.” There is no corner into which human presence has entered that there is absolutely no potential for violence and pain. Our social stability hangs upon a mere thread, as we depend on complicated systems of checks and balances to regulate the affairs of each day, recognizing that basic human nature cannot by itself govern and sustain our nation benevolently. In fact, it is a somber reality that any small town or country road can become an arena for the darkest manifestations of evil just as readily as any late night subway or dark alley. Amish schoolhouses, college campuses, childcare centers, school playgrounds, church sanctuaries, and even living rooms cannot guarantee safety, let alone peace of mind.
But on the other hand, there is hope. The hope that can only be found in Jesus Christ cannot be derailed by sorrow and loss, even when it is of this incredible magnitude, because the hope that we have in Jesus Christ recognizes both the capacity that humanity has for rendering great evil to itself as well as the nearly bottomless depth of sorrow that we bear when faced suddenly with unthinkable loss. As surely as we suffer and mourn the events of this past Monday, we can know that God also suffers with us and mourns with us in our hurt, His heart aching from the pain that we bear.
“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the others who had come along with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled…. Jesus wept” (from John 11:33, 35).
The fact that our basic nature is not in harmony with His is deeply troubling to God. And when the awful fruits of our “independence” from Him ripen, yielding us a feast of trouble and grief that we cannot swallow, the compassion of God is stirred up and His Spirit reaches out to ours with an invitation to repent and turn to Him. And if in spite of our spiritual blindness and deafness, we can finally discern the truth that we truly DO need God to help us, sustain us, lead us, and purify us, we’ll finally begin to actually begin living in the freedom with which God desires to wrap us.
“Lead out those who have eyes but are blind, who have ears but are deaf…. ‘You are My witnesses,’ declares the LORD, ‘and My servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe Me and understand that I am He. Before Me no god was formed, nor will there be one after Me. I, even I, am the LORD, and apart from Me there is no savior. I have revealed and saved and proclaimed – I, and not some foreign god among you. You are My witnesses,’ declares the LORD, ‘that I am God. Yes, and from ancient days I am He. No one can deliver out of My hand. When I act, who can reverse it?’” (Isaiah 43:8, 10-13 NIV).
When He acts to redeem us from our sin and the hopelessness that characterizes a life that is bound to it, no one can reverse it. As we turn to Him, we come to the one place that truly is safe no matter the howling gales of trouble and cruelty. As we walk with Him through faith in Jesus Christ, abiding in the center of His will, we find that we are also in the center of His mercy and are the recipients of wellsprings of His grace.
“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in Whom I trust…. If only I will pay attention to His commands, my peace will be like a river, my righteousness like the waves of the sea’” (from Psalm 91:1-2 & Isaiah 48:18).
One whose eyes are clouded with hurt and despair might ask why God doesn’t just do something. But he or she should take heart… God IS doing something: He’s reaching out with mercy and grace, calling us to trust Him and to step out of the poisonous vapors of bitterness and despair. And He’s calling us to lift our hearts and voices to Him in prayer, seeking His help in an age where the only help we can truly have can only be found in Him.
(Thom Mollohan and his family have ministered in southern Ohio the past eleven years. He is the pastor of Pathway Community Church, which meets on Sunday mornings at the Ariel Theatre. He may be reached for comments or questions by email at pastorthom@pathwaygallipolis.com).
