The tornado had hit the town hard, but all were accounted for at the elementary school.
I prayed a silent thanks and took my boy, safe and sound, to his martial arts class.
We have a big tournament coming up this weekend…
Then another report came in…there was another elementary school.
It was devastated…and there were dead children.
I prayed again, but had no words.
My son was the first to ask “why”?
Why if God is good did he allow this to happen?
All Christian traditions have a theodicy, an attempt to explain the existence of evil and pain.
Mine has one too…but theology is small comfort when fitting a casket for a child.
I explain it to an 11 year old…and to myself… this way.
This creation is good, but broken.
“For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.”
(Romans 8:18–23 ESV)
Sin has broken it and it groans…it cries out for the day when all things will be recreated and set right, just like we do.
In that state of brokenness and corruption and bondage to sin the creation acts like it’s inhabitants often do…and tragedy is the result.
We are broken, the earth is broken, it’s all broken…but we know in our spirits that’s not the way it’s supposed to be and we dare confess it’s not the way it will always be.
We groan together under the burden of of sin and the damage it has done and those groans are the cries of our souls for the Creator to return and do His good work over again.
I know that God is truly good, because my spirit knows that all of this is so truly bad…His spirit testifies to mine that this is not how it should be.
Some will speak this morning of judgement and mercy and sovereignty and glory and other things of God… but I will not listen to them speak.
These things are too lofty for me to understand, too fearsome for me to ponder.
I will not pretend to understand.
I will groan and I will weep with those who weep.
I will thank God that I will hug my child and put him on a bus and pick him up and go to practice and if God’s willing we have a big tournament this weekend.
I will know that the plans some will have for this weekend will be for funerals…and I will shiver and hold him all the closer.
That is the best I can do…the theologian is no match for a grieving parent.
Maranatha…come quickly, Lord Jesus.