Faces on Faith: Why?
The destruction that we see on our island and elsewhere is incomprehensible. Lives lost, jobs lost, homes and businesses and church buildings lost … We might shake our fist at God and scream, “Why? Why would a good and loving God allow such a thing to happen?”
I have a friend whose daughter has a rare form of cancer. They have taken her to medical centers around the country to treat her, and the cancer keeps coming back. This family’s suffering is incomprehensible, and yet they live with faith in a loving God.
Recently my friend wrote this piece about her faith in light of her daughter’s cancer. I thought it might be helpful as we make our way through our own struggles:
“When asked why I still believe in a loving God in the face of Amara’s cancer … this is the best I have to offer: It is not that I haven’t had my anger and rage … and even those do not melt my conviction that God is a God of compassion and love. It helped when my faith matured beyond seeing God like Oz who orchestrates everything from behind a curtain. When I no longer saw God in my image, but myself in God’s image. I have accepted that I cannot fully comprehend God. My faith is faith, it is not certainty. I have grown more comfortable these past few years with living in uncertainty and sometimes just plain living in the dark.”
“I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” — Barbara Brown Taylor, author of “Learning to Walk in the Dark”
The great love of God is shown when God joins us, becomes one of us. God, incarnate, knows what it is like to have fear, doubt, suffering and pain. The Holy one journeys close in our suffering. Why do I keep believing in this Holy source? Because I see and experience small miracles that matter. I am sustained by a living presence that has not abandoned me, but has carried me.
Rabbi Steven Leder in his book “The beauty of what remains” reminds us that the tragedy is not that one dies. The tragedy is that one does not fully live.
“If you want to change your life — really change — wake up to the blessed life you already have despite your pain.” “The single most important thing in life is showing up.” “I have never understood how people can pray for mercy and compassion from God but not be merciful and compassionate themselves.”
My friend Dana’s words have been helpful as I’ve walked this post-Ian road together with my spouse, friends and church family, and I hope they are helpful for you too. I hope that you are able to see compassion and goodness in the midst of the pain and suffering.
I have seen it at every turn: in a kindly boat captain helping us to shore, in government officials working tirelessly, in police, utility and debris removal workers, in a cold bottle of water and a satisfying BBQ. “Small miracles that matter.” The God of love is with us in a myriad of ways in all of this.
The Rev. William “Bill” Van Oss is the rector at Saint Michael & All Angels Episcopal Church.