Peace Within The Storm

When the darkness comes and chaos rages all around us, what are we to do? How are we to respond and how are we to see such events? In ancient times storms were believed to be the wrath of God. No doubt, for many people this is still how they see such things. But to believe these things we must ignore the books of Ecclesiastes, Job and the Gospels, not to mention ignore our personal encounters with the world. Such a view cannot hold up to the rational scrutiny of a basically moral person.

Yet one cannot escape the sense of the numinous within the tragedy. The scope of the whole thing outstrips our ability to talk about or think about, like any of our religious experiences. It is no less awesome than love, or a beautiful sunset, or the warming presence of the Holy Spirit, though it is obviously negative rather than positive. We stand in awe of the great tragedies of life. But it is an awe of terror, not of love.

Peace cannot be found by circumventing the storm. And all attempts to 'justify' suffering are just that: routes by which the storm may be circumvented. One keeps the fullest power of the tragedy from crashing into one's heart. It isn't really tragedy, it is just apparent tragedy. My suffering must be mine. I cannot run away from it, to do so is to deny my very humanity, and in my eyes the image of God within myself. The storm cannot be denied, it must be faced.

Peace, if it is to be found, must be found within the storm. The darkness cannot be denied, it must be defeated, and defeated not with more darkness (which is impossible), nor with the false light of human optimism or with self-deception (for such deception would indeed be nothing but darkness pretending to be light), but with the True Light of Christ. Only Jesus Christ, only God made man, can give us peace within the storm, and true light within the very heart of darkness. If we deny the numinous power of the moment, we deny something as real and palpable as the very keyboard on which I type. We must speak to the experience, the first-person encounter, with the moment. How do we give form and function to what we feel in such moments? Only, I believe, by speaking to the religious depth of the experience, by accepting the reality of the world of the spirit, a world we cannot prove, but which experience gives us ground to believe in all the same.

Such a conviction is no self-deception, for it admits of itself it's own uncertainty, and embraces the risk and venture which underlies human life as we all know it. And so suffering, to be properly understood, must be brought into the very life of God. If we speak of evil visiting suffering upon the divine, if we imagine the Cross as the essence of God, then we have a way to fully understand the numinous aspect of tragedy without creating enmity between God and man. Evil forces are at work in the world as well. That they can cause God any pain is a cosmic truth, a numinous truth, and that is the awe we experience in the storm. It is not the awe of power, but of the willingness of God to be with us even in our most miserable and painful of times. God is there, in the tragedy. But God did not bring it. It is the result of the toxic waste of a free universe, a cancer that while it's ultimate destruction is assured, can continue to strike at God's heel even now. Jesus Christ is God. If we fully embrace this truth we can finally have a way in which to speak of our most difficult experience. Moreover, our struggles to overcome tragedy: to mitigate damage, to financially support the hurt, to lend time and talent to the rescue efforts...are seen to be of ultimate significance. For they are part of the ongoing fight against evil, and are actually attempts to mitigate the Pain of God.

It is for this reason that I am today, and will ever be, a Christian. Only in the Cross is there truth. Only in the Resurrection is there hope.

Amen.