When Lightning Strikes

So what, precisely, do we do when tragedy strikes like a bolt of lightning out of a clear blue sky, leaving the landscape of our lives shattered in the shock and forever altered in the aftermath of such a great loss?

The answer, to be honest, is easier to explain than it is to accept. 

In the same way that The Lord’s Prayer is the perfect example of how God wants us to pray, The Beatitudes are the perfect example of how He wants us to live. 

Not so long ago, Pastor Jim mentioned that the word “bless,” when traced back through the translations, originally meant “to serve.”  I’d take that a step further and say that in The Beatitudes the word “blessed”–past tense–would actually mean “those who have chosen to serve.”  Or, simply put, “servants.”  (It is probably worth pointing out that in English the word “bless” became associated with the word “bliss,” which certainly explains the definition most of us are familiar with.)

So far as we know, The Beatitudes are the only time Jesus spoke so poetically, probably because He wanted everyone in the early church to remember them.  Stories and epics and poems, in that historical context, were all passed along orally from one generation to the next before paper became so common.  The same just might be true of The Beatitudes.  The poetic repetition of challenges and rewards is certainly easy to remember when recited repeatedly.

The Beatitudes must be taken individually and as a whole.  They are a step-by-step process, a model that we should expect living the Christian life.  What follows is an examination of those steps.

Step 1.  ”Blessed are the poor in spirit.”  Because we were made in God’s Image, there is a part of us that is always seeking the fulfillment that only He can give us.  When we do not seek Him diligently, we turn to other things to try to fill that spiritual void: alcoholism and drug addiction, materialism, promiscuity, religious legalism, gossip, &c.  So we must first acknowledge that we are seriously lacking something spiritually.  It is only then that we can let God in our lives.

Step 2.  ”Blessed are those who mourn.”  Even though we have let God in our lives, the world is still fallen, still deluded, still tormented.  People still grow old and a whole lot still die dreadful deaths.  And when they’re gone, we mourn.  It has been two years since my friend, Britany, took her own life.  She made that decision, in part, because she was sexually abused as a child.  I still miss her.  And when I think about her as a young girl enduring such horror, and so many other children who have suffered in the same way, I certainly mourn that, too.  So it is not simply death we mourn, but also the great tragedies and the terrible horrors of a fallen world.

Step 3.  ”Blessed are the meek.”  One purpose–just one–that tragedies and horrors serve in our spiritual lives is humility.  Because, let’s face it, when you’ve got a room full of people who all believe that they are going to Heaven, the potential for arrogance is as astounding as it is subtle.  (I know this because I have been so guilty of it.)  When we give in to that temptation, which is one not easily seen, we are much less likely to remember that it is only through God’s grace that we have been rescued.  And, speaking personally, nothing has filled me with more humility than losing someone to suicide.

Step 4.  ”Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”  Although we have been humbled by the tragedies we have endured, we are often left with an immense longing for the righteousness of God, the justice that only He can provide.  Unchecked, this agony can become a blind rage against the injustices of the world.  And if we were to express that anger fully it would lead to revenge in the form of homicide, rioting, genocide, mass rape, &c.  It can even be covered in the legal veil of self-defense, but Jesus stated plainly that even that is wrong in God’s eyes (Matthew 5:38-48).  Therefore, it is not our responsibility to “do to him what he did to me,” no matter how justified we feel we may be.  And besides, revenge never “settles the score.”  Because there is always someone else out there who will want to get revenge for the revenge you got.

Step 5.  ”Blessed are the merciful.”  Because our hunger and thirst for righteousness, for the justice that only God can give, can all too easily be transformed into anger, mercy is the next step.  At some point, we need to realize that no act of vengeance will bring back the people we’ve lost, nor will any injuries we inflict during our tremendous pain ever alleviate our loss, regardless of how justified we think we are.  After the shock of Britany’s suicide had subsided, I had very bad thoughts about what I might do to the man who violated her when she was a young girl.  But I never knew who he was.  Still don’t.  It wasn’t long, though, before I had to chose between getting revenge or giving mercy when I found out that someone I knew had been accused of committing a similar atrocity.

Step 6.  ”Blessed are the pure in heart.”  Jesus emphasized several times, especially in The Parable of The Unmerciful Servant, that we must show others the same mercy God has shown us.  When we do, we discover that sharing God’s mercy purifies our heart because it releases the hatred and the rage that lead to the desire for, and the act of, revenge.  I learned this firsthand when I discovered that someone I knew had been accused of rape years ago.  Although he was never convicted, I certainly could have chosen to convict him myself.  Soon, I realized that even if he was guilty, Christ died for his sins too.  And am I not commanded to love my enemies (Matthew 5:44)?  So instead of acting on all those very bad thoughts I’d had after Britany’s suicide, I invited the man to a Bible study that I have at my house on Tuesday nights.  (Unfortunately, he only came for a few weeks.)

Step 7.  ”Blessed are the peacemakers.”  Once upon a time, I was taught that peace was something I was supposed to have inside in my heart.  And that it didn’t matter how bad the circumstances around me were; because I am a Christian, I was supposed to be at peace all the time.  But how could this be true if Jesus warned us that when hard times come, “the love of most will grow cold”  (Matthew 24:12)?  And since He knew that would happen, He certainly would have given us a way to avoid such bitterness.  In this life, God purifies our hearts when we show others the same mercy He has shown us.  When we strive to do that every time tragedy strikes our lives like lightning, we become the very peacemakers Christ commands us to be.  Peace is mercy in action.

Step 8.   ”Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness.”  I’m sure that at least some of you probably think that I’m off my rocker for inviting an accused rapist into my home, even if it was for a Bible study.  I know if Britany were still alive, she certainly would not have been happy about it.  But I cannot put her memory before God’s commands.  In Katrina & Me, I mentioned that my grief had taught me compassion, that the betrayals I had endured had taught me mercy, with an extraordinary opportunity to show grace.  It certainly wasn’t an easy lesson.  In fact, I felt like I had to run with horses just to open the door, but, with a whole lot of help from my Father and a whole lot of prayer and a whole lot of faith and mostly a whole lot of love, I at least won the race this time.

Are your sins more important than your salvation?

Then act accordingly.

Katrina & Me

[Author’s note:  This essay was originally written in November of 2006, fifteen months after Hurricane Katrina hit The Gulf Coast.  I read it at my church on December 3rd of that year.] 

Believe it or not, ten months ago today I got a phone call from my stepfather.  Just about eleven o’clock at night.  Turns out my uncle had passed away.

Three weeks later, I got an e-mail from the pastor of another church.  He told me that a friend of mine, just twenty-eight years old, committed suicide.

And then on March 15th, my birthday, my grandmother.

Now, I certainly met my share of “miserable comforters,” but it wasn’t long before I realized my own life had become something of a microcosm of The Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina.  And fortunately Pastor Warner was wise enough, and nice enough, to warn me not to get too comfortable in my grief.  So I went to Mississippi.

One night before dinner I met a man named Kevin while we were washing our hands.  He is about my age.  His house was five blocks from the current campsite.  Of the…roughly the 1,700 people who lost their lives during Hurricane Katrina, Kevin knew…35 of them.  His friends, his family, his fiancee, and…their unborn child are all dead.  He also lost his home and his business.

I lost three people in six weeks, but Kevin lost 35 people in eight hours.

Do not misunderstand.  I don’t feel better just because I met a man who lost ten times what I did.  I feel great because “as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”  And God is The Great Blacksmith.

Today, Kevin says that his faith in God is “questionable.”

Questionable in a place with people like Jenny.  A young woman, not quite thirty I’d say, who was there within days of the disaster, handing out clean clothes and warm food to those pulling the bodies out of the water, lining the sands of the beach with the dead.

Questionable in God’s Katrina Kitchen, where a young man named Richard gets up at five a.m. to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for hundreds of volunteers and then goes to sleep at ten p.m. after cleaning up.  His bed used to be a chair he had set up in the kitchen.

Questionable in a place with middle-aged men like Nash and Rolin who, like Jenny and Richard, sold everything they owned just to help with the rebuilding full time.  Their lives found more meaning once they had no money.

Some might say that Kevin’s questionable faith is not so good.  But after everything he has lost I consider it a miracle that he still believes in God at all.

They say the world is far from perfect.  But how would we ever know courage and sacrifice if it were not for a tragedy like Katrina?

How would we ever know just how much we really need God if it were not for our own desperation?

Like Kevin, I still miss the people I’ve lost.  I always will.

Yesterday, that was an unbearable burden.

Today, I know better.

My grief has taught me compassion.  The betrayals I have endured have taught me mercy, with an extraordinary opportunity to show grace.  And the pain I am somehow surviving, and the pain that people like Kevin are somehow surviving, has brought me a glimpse of the joy God has always intended me to have.

Today I am convinced that God gave us The Golden Rule for our own good.  Because if I am ONLY concerned about my own happiness then I am always going to be unhappy.  It is only when I am more concerned about others, especially people like Kevin, that I find happiness.  And joy.

The world may be fallen and deluded.  Tragic and tormented.  But it is a great place for us to learn what God is teaching us:  compassion, mercy, grace, joy, forgiveness.  Love.

And like those I have lost, these are lessons I’ll never forget.

We’re not superheros.  But as former president Jimmy Carter has said (he also won The Nobel Peace Prize):

“I’ve got one life and one chance to make it count for something…and the something I have chosen is my faith.  Now, my faith goes beyond theology and religion and requires considerable work and effort.  My faith demands–and this is not optional–my faith DEMANDS that I do whatever I can, wherever I can, whenever I can, for as long as I can to try to MAKE A DIFFERENCE.”

Thank you.