As
someone who at one time in his life thought himself a runner, the events in
Boston on Monday April 16, 2013 hit hard.
It was once my goal and dream to run the Boston Marathon. I know people who have run through the
streets of that historic town in this country’s oldest and most famous
marathon. Our thoughts and prayers are
with the people of Boston. Our prayers
are with the many injured people, and our sorrow and prayers reach out to the
families of those whose lives were so tragically ended on a day that was
supposed to be full of joy, happiness and triumph. In the coming days and weeks I’m sure that we
will get more and more information; that we will come to know who it was that
did such a terrible thing and why they felt justified in putting the lives of
so many people in danger. But right now,
our question, our sigh, our cry, our wail, is, “Why?”
There
have been in recent years far too many events that have brought our country
together in sorrow and pain, and crying out, “Why?”: Oklahoma City, Columbine,
9/11, Newtown, to name just a few, and now Boston is added to a list that was
too long already.
As people who look to our faith,
as people who turn to God in prayer in times of joy and in times of sorrow, I’m
sure that many of us dropped to our knees in prayer when we heard the news from
Boston. We opened up our hearts in
prayers lifted up to God for the well-being of all those affected, whether
victims, bystanders or care-givers. I
too was amongst those whose thoughts and prayers were part of a massive chorus
lifted up to God. I too was one of those
whose voice cried out, “Why God? Why?”
All of us have favorite passages, favorite
verses we turn to in times of trouble. For
many, the 23rd Psalm is a source of comfort and hope. By coincidence, or the power of the Holy Spirit,
it is the Psalm appointed in the Revised Common Lectionary for next Sunday. I often turn to the 23rd Psalm,
but for me, the passage that speaks to me in my times of questioning, my times
of pain, my times of crying out to God is Isaiah 43, especially the first two
verses:
But now thus says the Lord, he who created
you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed
you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be
with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk
through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
These verses probably speak to me because of the song we
used to sing at youth group in high school that was based on these verses. I can still remember us shouting at the top
of our lungs, “Fear Not!” In moments
when I feel the most insecure, when I feel the most out of sorts, when I feel
the most helpless, when I feel the most afraid, the song comes to my mind. ‘I
have redeemed you, I have called you by name, child you are mine.’ ‘Fear
not! For I am with you says the Lord.’
As a
parent, I know what it is like to comfort a child who is afraid. I have been woken in the middle of the night
by a small hand reaching up, touching my shoulder, a small voice
whimpering. I have taken that scared
little girl into my arms, comforting her, telling her that it’s okay, that
Mommy and Daddy will protect her, that she doesn’t have anything to be afraid
of. That’s easy to say when we are
talking about a bad dream, or a monster in the closet. Not so easy when it’s a bomb in a backpack,
or a shooter in a schoolyard. How do we
speak words of comfort then? How can we
say that everything is going to be all right?
How can we say, “Fear not!”?
The reality
is that without God we cannot. Without
knowing that there is more to life than just you and me. Without knowing that life does not end with
our last breath, there can be no hope, there can be no peace. Without the peace that God brings, there can
be only fear in the face of events and situations beyond our control.
As a
parent, I know all too well the fear of sending my children off into the world
not knowing what is going to happen to them.
I know the discomfort of trying to contact my wife when I am worried
about her, and then not being able to get an answer from her. I know the fear of insecurity that can wrap
it’s fingers around our hearts and take away our breath as we watch replay
after replay of explosions and clouds of smoke rising in the sky. I know the feeling of helplessness that all
too easily can force us to stop, unable to move or think about anything but
that moment.
Yet,
God tells us again and again in scripture that in those moments of tragedy, in
those moments when we feel truly alone and powerless, we are not alone. God is with us. God promises to be with us. As the Psalmist wrote, “Even though I walk through the darkest
valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me”, and again from Psalm 46: “God is our refuge and strength, a very
present help in trouble.” But, even though we know God is present, even
though we know Jesus is with us, we can still be overcome by fear, we can still
feel completely helpless in the moment of tragedy and sorrow.
Last
night I had the opportunity to talk with a friend who has successfully reached
day 20 of being clean and sober. It has
not been an easy road. I rejoice to see
that he is taking the steps necessary to bring his life back under control. Dealing with an addiction, facing it fully
and declaring war against it, is all about coming face to face with fear, face
to face with the reality that we are not in control, that we cannot do it on
our own. He said over and over again in
our conversation that he doesn’t know what the future holds, that he doesn’t
know what tomorrow will bring. He can only
live for today, doing his best to keep himself clean, doing his best to enrich
the lives of those around him. Knowing
that he is not alone, that there is a power greater than him that he can turn
to for support.
Without question, God is present. Yet, there are also a multitude of others
present. There are many people that will
be there to hold him accountable, that will be there to listen to him as he shares
his battles with his demons, and in that there is comfort. Even though he has no clue what tomorrow will
bring, even though he still feels the clawing grasp of addiction, even though
he still fears falling back under that power, he knows the comfort of not being
alone.
As I watched the coverage of the
events in Boston, yesterday and this morning, I was struck again and again with
how even as the smoke was still rising, and people were picking themselves up
off the ground, trying to determine what had happened, there were people
running; running not from the chaos, but into it; seeking to bring comfort in
that moment of fear and terror.
We struggle to understand why in
these moments, and we always will. We
will probably eventually discover the ‘why’ of Boston. But, we will never understand why it is that
life seems to be so full of tragedy, so full of sorrow and pain, so full of things
that bring fear. The question of ‘why’
may escape us, but the answer of ‘who’ will be there. Who is there in the midst of the why? Who is there bringing comfort, who is there
with a message of hope, who is there sharing a peace that passes all human
understanding?
The answer of course is God, the
answer is Jesus. The answer is found in
the one who became one of us, who took upon himself all the pain and sorrow,
joy and terror of life when we was born in the small town of Bethlehem. The answer is found in the one who walked
amongst us, bringing healing and hope, comfort and welcome to people who lived
their lives with little to hope in. The
answer can be found in the one who took upon himself the sins of the world as
he was nailed to the cross. The answer
can be found in the one whose rising from the grave scattered darkness and
death. The answer can be found in the one
who said, “I am with you always.”
The answer can be found in the
one who promises us that we will never be alone, that though there will times
of fear, there will be times of tragedy, there will be times of sorrow, there
will be times when death comes to those we know and love; we will not be alone
in those times. Even in the midst of the
chaos that is unfolding, sometimes exploding around us, God is with us. God is there saying, “Fear not, I am with
you.” Comfort is there to be found,
comfort is there to be given.
As we pray for the people in
Boston, and in all the places around the world that deal with death and
tragedy, we do so knowing that God is in the midst of it all. God is there, bringing comfort, bringing
hope, bringing peace, and soothing fears.
May all those who have been touched by the events in Boston, and by
tragedy in all corners of the globe know the presence and promise of God that
can overpower fear. God is with us. Fear Not!
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