The stories continue to roll in, one upon another, horrific and sad, each one touching another life and then another in a spider web of pain. From the children and counselors at Camp Mystic to residents in the area, the Guadalupe River swallowed lives.
And, of course, people ask, “Why?” How did this tragedy happen? Could people have been saved from this? The blame-throwers line up on their pitchers’ mound, throwing accusations on inadequate emergency warning systems, global warming, whoever’s idea it was to build new cabins along a flood zone. Governor Greg Abbot of Texas called the question of “Who’s to blame?” the “word choice of losers.”
Still, something within us wants to know. It may be the reflexive response of self-security, a companion of self-preservation. If we can identify the cause, we can fix it, or at least avoid it, thereby preventing ourselves from being victimized. So, we ask questions, like, “How did that person get cancer?” If we can identify a cause, we can prevent the disease or at least reduce the odds in our favor, at least we hope.
But answers are not always readily available. Insurance companies have invented a category for events when there is no one to blame. When a flood, tornado, or tsunami occurs, an event not caused or controlled by humans, insurance companies refer to it as an “act of God.”
So then, is God to blame?
Theologians and philosophers sometimes distinguish between what’s called “natural” and “moral” evil. Natural evil is evident in the Texas floods, as well as in earthquakes and diseases. Moral evil, on the other hand, is the sinful action of people. Theft, murder, rape, and torture are but a few examples.
According to Scripture, moral evil came first with the disobedience of Adam and Eve. Their sin changed everything, including nature, hence the concept of natural evil. What was once easy became a chore for people. God said to Adam, “Cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat…thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you…by the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground” (Genesis 3:17-19).
So, when I am in my garden weeding and a Spiney Amaranth pricks my finger, I don’t think about it beyond the band-aid I might apply to it. But if I am a hemophiliac, I might ask those questions of blame. Why wasn’t I wearing proper gloves? If not, I am to blame. If so, did the company construct them properly? If not, then they are to blame.
When life is threatened or lost, we ask questions of blame.
Could God have prevented it? Yes. I suppose God could have diverted the floodwaters or awakened the campers with a Voice.
And He could prevent all cancers, ALS, Parkinson’s Disease, tornadoes, and earthquakes, as well as the child who falls and skins a knee. But that wouldn’t be the world we live in, would it? That would be the world we yearn for. It’s called heaven. In the meantime, as Paul the Apostle wrote, all creation “waits with eager longing” for the time when “creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption” (Romans 8:19-20).
Just as God’s absence at the Cross, where Jesus himself asked, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?” led to redemption for all who believe, so God’s presence in our pain points us to a hope beyond our present agonies. God is not absent but with us, soothing and healing us with the comforting work of the Holy Spirit, lifting our mournful eyes to a world to come, one in perfect harmony with Him.
There is agony in this mystery we call life. We find peace in accepting life on its terms. Not having all the answers to life’s mysteries doesn’t mean we are lost, abandoned, or without hope.
The Lord God does answer. He answers with his presence rather than with textbook definitions, comforting us in our pain, lifting us from the depths of despair, restoring us with hope, and securing us for everlasting life.
Where in His presence, there will be no blame, only praise.