What a week! Our lives have been rocked. Everything that
seemed so solid has been shaken. The twin towers of the World
Trade Center. The Pentagon. Symbols of American strength and
stability, taken out by terrorist attack. Until Tuesday, the
bloodiest day in U.S. history had been September 17, 1862, when
about 4,700 Union and Confederate soldiers died in the Civil War
battle of Antietam. Pearl Harbor killed 2,388 Americans, and the
first day of the Normandy invasion on June 6, 1944, killed
1,465.(1) As you know, estimates for this week's attack are 5,000
and climbing.
Through those connections that unite us as families and
friends and acquaintances across this country, everyone of us has
been affected. As Martin Luther King once said so well, "We are
caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single
garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all
indirectly." And so we mourn...we mourn the fatalities and the
casualties, as well as our own loss of innocence. We have been
attacked, and will never feel completely safe again. How ironic
that Tuesday's date was 9-1-1.
As many of you know, my wife was scheduled to return to this
country on Tuesday morning at the conclusion of a trip to
Venezuela on behalf of our Presbytery. Her plane was on the
runway preparing to take off when word came to return to the
gate. She has been safe and well during this extended stay in
Caracas, and she has been able to maintain contact with us by
phone and e-mail. The other day she wrote, "Two of the bags that
we brought with us (our watchwords for the trip) were PATIENCE
and FLEXIBILITY. We've packed and unpacked those bags many times
since we've been here." By the grace of God, she is in the air
on her return flight at this very minute, but, as Brian Ripley,
one of her Presbytery traveling companions who returned last
Monday, wrote her, "You will be coming back to a different U.S.
than the one you left."
Things ARE different now. According to a Gallup Poll taken
this week, Americans are much more worried today about becoming a
victim of terrorism than they were after the Oklahoma City
bombing six years ago. The current poll shows 60% of Americans
saying they are either "very" or "somewhat" worried that they or
someone in their family will become a victim, compared with 42%
who expressed that view in April 1995, shortly after the Oklahoma
City bombing. Last year, at the fifth anniversary of that
bombing, only 24% said they were worried.
One reason for the increased worry may be that a majority of
Americans, 55%, see Tuesday's attacks as the beginning of a
sustained terrorist campaign "that will continue for several
weeks." This worry apparently influences how Americans might
behave in the future. Half of the public (49%) predicts that, as
a consequence of the terrorist attacks, Americans will
permanently change the way they live, and 36% of us admit that
they will change some aspect of their personal lives or
activities to avoid being a victim of terrorism. When asked
about their fear of flying, 48% of America admitted that the
terrorist attacks make them less willing to fly on airplanes. A
different world.
Why do such awful things happen? As Billy Graham said
Friday at the service in the National Cathedral, "I have been
asked hundreds of times in my life why God allows tragedy and
suffering. I have to confess that I really do not know the
answer totally, even to my own satisfaction. I have to accept,
by faith, that God is sovereign, and [that God] is a God of love
and mercy and compassion in the midst of suffering."
Twenty years ago a book was published with the intriguing
title, When Bad Things Happen to Good People.(2) You may have it
in your home. It became an instant best seller, because everyone
knows bad things DO happen to good people, ALL THE TIME, and we
would like some answers as to WHY. To be honest, the book did
not have any satisfying answer either, nor do I. Theologically,
I guess I ought to be able to just get beyond the tragedies of
last Tuesday, remind myself of the eternal truth of the Gospel,
that life does not end with death, and look forward to the day
foreseen by Isaiah, a day when "the sound of weeping and of
crying will be heard...no more,"(3) or the writer of Revelation, a
day when "God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."
My son David called home from college the other night. He
wanted to know the latest on his mom. We talked for a while
about the events of the week. I asked where he would be going to
worship this morning. He mentioned a Presbyterian church near
the campus. He added, "...then I'll probably come home and
listen to you on the Internet." Well, David, the story I am
about to tell is one with which you are familiar.
A couple of years ago a young family in the small town where
we lived died in the crash of their single-engine plane - a
father, mother and twelve-year-old daughter who was one of
David's classmates in Middle School and who had performed with my
daughter Erin in a Little Theatre group and had become her good
friend. Beth was a gorgeous and vivacious child, one of those
who would, as the years progressed, be certain to make many a
young man's heart to flutter (a process which, I am told, had
already begun).
Erin was particularly devastated by the news. She sobbed
and sobbed as the terrible truth sank in. It made no sense to
her that something like this could occur. In the middle of her
pain, she began to feel angry. Sunday School theology had taught
her that God rules this world, which meant that God controls all
that happens - even plane crashes. As she sat on my lap, she
lashed out through her tears in a way that only an eight-year-old
can: "God is not very POLITE!"
Later that night, as she lay in her bed and talked with me
before saying her prayers, the weeping began again. I tried to
explain that even though Beth was no longer here, she was with
Jesus - no crying, no pain, a wonderful place. She responded,
"God may be happy now, but I'M NOT!"
"No," I replied, "God is not happy. God did not make the
plane crash. God does not do things like that. It was a
terrible accident, but now God has picked up the pieces and
brought Beth and her mommy and daddy home to heaven."
Erin was not mollified - good theology, but cold comfort.
Erin missed her friend.
A little boy in Sunday School prayed fervently, "Dear God,
please bless everybody but my brother Tommy." The teacher
replied that God did indeed understand that little brothers are
sometimes hard to live with, but that God LOVED Tommy. "Then
He's a mighty funny kind of a God," the little boy said. In our
own way and for our own reasons, we tend to agree. As Erin
expressed it, God is not very POLITE!
David told me at the time that one of the class assignments
he and Beth had for English was to keep a journal, and one of the
reflections was to deal with those things of which they were
afraid. Beth had written that she was afraid of dying young.
How ironic!
There are too many ironies in this world for my taste. Bad
things happen to good people, and I do not like it. What are we
to make of all this...of terrorists, tragedies, and traumas that
we read of everyday? In our Westminster Confession of Faith we
affirm, "God...alone [is the] fountain of all being, OF whom,
THROUGH whom, and TO whom, are all things; and hath most
sovereign dominion over them, to do BY them, FOR them, or UPON
them, whatsoever himself pleases."(4) God is in charge...of
EVERYTHING! The sovereignty of God has always been the bedrock
of Reformed theology.
At a White House breakfast for religious leaders several
years ago, President Bush (the elder) told the story of a little
boy who offered up this simple prayer: "God bless mother and
daddy, my brother and sister; and God, do take care of yourself,
because if anything happens to YOU, we're all sunk."(5) A child's
way of acknowledging the sovereignty of God. So what is going
on?
In a way, it may seem like whistling through the graveyard
to continue with that affirmation. Awful things constantly
happen: Osama Bin Laden's Kamikaze's, millions starve in Africa,
little children killed by drunk drivers, and so on and so on and
so on. Then how can we continue to preach and teach the
sovereignty of God...a loving God is in control...with any
intellectual or philosophical or even theological integrity?
I like the way Dr. Albert Winn, pastor, professor, and
former President of Louisville Seminary, answers that question.(6)
He notes that at the heart of biblical faith we do not find air-tight arguments sealed with a "therefore" - all is right with the
world, therefore, let us have faith; therefore, let us praise
God. Rather at the heart of biblical faith we find things that
do not logically follow at all, sealed with a "nevertheless."
Much is wrong with the world, the mystery of evil is great,
NEVERTHELESS let us have faith, NEVERTHELESS let us praise God.
Perhaps we can better understand the miseries of life if we
remember NEVERTHELESS.
God is sovereign. God is in control. We continue to preach
it and teach it. But the question remains: Are we just whistling
through the graveyard? Are we like little children, trying to
affirm what we know is not true by tightly closing our eyes and
trying to make our dream real by endlessly repeating our hope?
Is this a great collective self-deception? Not at all.
When I need a reminder (which we all surely did in hearing
the news all this week), I look at the calendar. I see the first
day of the week and I remember what happened one Sunday so many
years ago...that first Easter, the day of resurrection. It was
that day that guaranteed for time and all eternity that "the
wrong shall fail, the right prevail."
As I have told you before, one of my favorite books is
called, It's Friday, but Sunday's Comin'.(7) It is a series of
essays by Dr. Anthony Campolo, and the title work tells of a Good
Friday service in which the author participated - it is a line
from a sermon preached by one of the other speakers that day, a
wise old black man. Remember this? Dr. Campolo writes:
For an hour and a half he preached one line over
and over again..."It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'!"
He started his sermon real softly by saying, "It was
Friday; it was Friday and my Jesus was dead on the
tree. But that was Friday, and Sunday's comin'!" One
of the Deacons yelled, "Preach, brother, Preach!" It
was all the encouragement he needed.
He came on louder as he said, "It was Friday and
Mary was cryin' her eyes out. The disciples were
runnin' in every direction, like sheep without a
shepherd, but that was Friday, and Sunday's comin!"
The preacher kept going. He picked up the volume
still more and shouted, "It was Friday. The cynics
were lookin' at the world and sayin' `As things have
been so shall they be. You can't change anything in
this world; you can't change anything. But those
cynics don't know that it was only Friday. Sunday's
comin'! It was Friday, and on Friday those forces that
oppress the poor and make the poor to suffer were in
control. But that was Friday! Sunday's comin'!
It was Friday, and on Friday Pilate thought he had
washed his hands of a lot of trouble. The Pharisees
were struttin' around, laughin' and pokin' each other
in the ribs. They thought they were back in charge of
things. But they didn't know it was only Friday!
Sunday's comin'!
Campolo continues, "He kept on working that one phrase for a
half hour, then an hour, then an hour and a quarter, then an hour
and a half. Over and over he came at us, "It's Friday, but
Sunday's comin!" By the time he had come to the end of the
message...He had me and everybody else so worked up that I don't
think any of us could have stood it much longer. At the end of
his message he just yelled at the top of his lungs, `It's
FRIDAY!' and all 500 of us in that church yelled back with one
accord, `SUNDAY'S COMIN'!"(8)
That is the good news, the Gospel, the word the world is
waiting to hear. That is the NEVERTHELESS message of the church.
When life begins to get you down, our word is SUNDAY'S COMIN'.
When the love you had counted on is gone and you feel that you
may never know love again, remember that SUNDAY'S COMIN'. When
you have lost your belief in the miraculous and no longer expect
great things from God, look at the calendar and note that
SUNDAY'S COMIN'. When you see what is happening in the air over
New York and Washington and are angry and afraid, we are here to
tell you that SUNDAY'S COMIN'.
Yes, there is lots wrong with this world. There are
terrorists, tragedies, and traumas everyday. Things are not what
they ought to be, and I do not like it. NEVERTHELESS, I have
confidence and I have hope. I remember a special day long, long
ago, and with heart and soul and every fibre of my being I can
shout, IT'S FRIDAY, BUT, PRAISE GOD, SUNDAY'S COMIN'!
Amen!
1. Rick Hampson, USA TODAY; "Minute by minute, fear envelops the country"
2. Avon Books, New York, 1981
3. Isaiah 65:19b
4. "Westminster Confession of Faith," The Book of Confessions, (Louisville, KY: Office of
the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church, USA), 6.012
5. From the ABA Banker's Weekly quoted by the Joyful Noiseletter
6. Albert Curry Winn, A Christian Primer, (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press,
1990), pp. 79-80
7. Waco, TX: Word Publishing, 1985
8. ibid., pp. 124-126
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