This Broken World

With the terrible events yesterday and the anniversary of the massacre at Virginia Tech happening in such a small time frame, it feels impossible for me to not reflect. I find myself reflecting upon this experience in many ways with many emotions. I feel anger, disappointment, fear, sadness. So many emotions that come easily to the surface when our world is flooded with death and chaos.

So many of these experiences have characteristics that force me to reflect upon my own experience of tragedy. Over the past 24 hours I have been forced to remember the amount of misinformation that happens after a tragedy such as this. People are desperate for information. I can't really blame them. I recall watching the TV on the morning of April 16th, 2007 seeing the numbers spiking from 2 dead to 10 dead, and on and on. But I also recall the pain of thinking that someone I loved was one of those numbers. We find ourselves glued to televisions or news websites trying to gather as much information as we can. We find ourselves searching desperately for the facts.

I think that part of the reason we search for these facts is because we really want to understand. We want to know how it happened, who was involved, and what exactly occurred. We want to know all of the whats, whens, wheres because we believe that the facts will help us understand the whys. The facts will help us make sense of such a terrible thing.

The only kind of reflection I find myself capable of at this point is the theological kind. It's the only thing to which I can resort. I am reminded that we live in a broken world. In fact, this is what I've been telling myself since the explosions yesterday. I've heard myself say, "What a broken world we live in. What a sinful, broken world." We live in a world full of pain and sorrow, death and destruction. The evidence is more real and present than we could even imagine. The facts about the broken world we live in are abundant.

It is in our nature to ask why. It is crucial to our innate coping skills to try to understand the reason behind tragedy. We want to say, "This is the reason it happened. This is why." Unfortunately, the question we most want answered is either the hardest question to answer, or the question which has no answer. This is not a reason to stop asking our why question. The brokenness of our world is not an excuse for inaction or apathy. Rather, an understanding of our broken world can help us frame our desire for understanding. When we realize that there is a level of understanding which we cannot reach, we can give ourselves the space to mourn without agenda.

Knowing this, one of the things I try to give myself is just the space to mourn. For me, music achieves this purpose to a large degree, and writing music helps me cope. This hymn is not a new one, I posted it after the Newtown tragedy, but with the anniversary of April 16th and the violence of the past days, it feels pertinent again.

Our hearts and souls they seem to ache,

When we such horrors witness bear,

The bonds of trust they start to break,

Lives tossed aside without a care.

How can there be such senseless death?

Why must our tears so freely fall?

We cry to God with all our breath,

And hear no comfort when we call.

My hope on nothing seems to rest,

my strength begins to give away,

In all the pain I try my best,

But terror is what now holds sway.

Though stranded and alone we feel,

As though beyond all sort of aide,

Our Lord has promised presence real,

In pain and woe, when we're afraid.

To the Lord's presence tight I hold,

When nothing else have I to do.

Through the despair of shadow cold,

Only my God can pull me through.

I encourage you to find the space that you need to mourn without agenda.

Doubting?

John 20:19-31

There is an anecdote that I have heard a number of times. It is meant to confuse the listener and to call into question the listener’s assumptions. The anecdote is asked in question form, you may have heard it. It goes, “If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise?”

When this question is asked, If the listener says, “Well of course it does,” it’s standard practice for the person telling the anecdote to say, “How do you know? How can you prove it?”

If asked this question, I want to immediately launch into a discussion of the physics of sound: well the sound waves have to be emitted. Just because there’s no receptacle around to receive them doesn't mean they don’t occur…and so forth. Maybe you’re like me, maybe you would try to explain it scientifically.

But the question isn't really about the answer. Inevitably, a philosophical conversation is launched: Do things that are never perceived really exist? What is the nature of existence? Does observation equal reality? There’s a reason I only took the bare minimum of philosophy in college.

I don’t think that this question is about philosophy though, I think it’s about something much more personal. I think it is about doubt. 

After Jesus appears to many disciples in a locked room after his resurrection, the disciples go to Thomas, who was not present, and tell him that they have seen the risen Lord. Thomas essentially says, “I am only going to believe you if I see him myself!” Hence Thomas gets the name Doubting Thomas. But does Thomas really deserve this name? Does he really deserve to be singled out?

If we look at the story before Thomas, we find all of the other disciples interacting with Jesus. Jesus appeared to them because they did not believe the good news when they heard. After Mary encountered Jesus in the garden she went back and told the others what she had found. Yet in our passage today we find them huddled together in fear behind a locked door. When they were given the good news, they did not go forth worshiping the Lord and proclaiming the good news of Christ. It took a visit by Jesus to convince them of the truth.

So when they pass on word to Thomas of the resurrection, rather than being a belligerent doubter, Thomas is simply asking to see Jesus in the same way. Thomas is asking for the chance to experience the resurrected Jesus. So maybe he was a doubter, but not more so than the other disciples.

My little experience tells me that many people, indeed many Christians, see doubt as an entirely negative thing. They feel that doubt is what causes people to abandon their faith. I feel that there are two reasons why we see doubt as such a dangerous thing. One reason we are afraid to doubt is because we may have been taught or led to believe that doubting is the same as sin. We may have been told that to doubt means that there is a lack of belief.

Closely related to this is the second reason we are afraid to doubt. We’re afraid that if we open ourselves up to doubt, we have opened the door to unbelief. We are afraid that if we open ourselves up to questioning, everything we believe will crumble. This is not an unfounded fear. If we aren't careful, doubt can lead down a dangerous road.

Let me be clear about the doubt I’m talking about. I’m talking about the tough questions and issues that challenge our faith. I’m talking about the situations we face in this sinful world that call into question that which we believe.

I’m sure there are very few people who can say that the world we live in has not challenged their faith. We live in a world full of complexity, full of darkness, full of challenge. The dire situations that many of our fellow humans face on a daily basis challenge our understanding of the world. The death and destruction that we witness in the world around us calls into question many of the things which we say we believe.

This is the reality of the world in which we live. This is the truth we face. The presence of these things in the world is the root of doubt. When we look at the world and have tough questions, we enter into doubt. 

I am not convinced that doubt defeats faith. I believe that the opposite of believing is not doubting. The opposite of believing is “not believing,” or, as I like to call it, unbelieving. The opposite of believing is not, as we might think, questioning our belief or having doubts about our belief. The opposite of believing is the refusal to give ourselves the chance to have doubts. It is the refusal to place trust in something which we can call into question. It is, in short, unbelieving. Jesus doesn't tell Thomas not to doubt, he tells him not to disbelieve.

In fact, doubting and asking the tough questions about faith can be a useful spiritual practice. Asking whether Jesus had to die, why we receive grace, why bad things happen to good people can give us a chance to learn more about our own faith. Can give us a chance to grow and develop our faith.

If we never allow ourselves to doubt, we face a couple dangers. Our faith can become stagnant. We can fall into a rut where we believe what we do simply because we've never been forced to consider something else. When we refuse to allow doubt and questioning to enter our lives, we have no reason to grow and change.

Don't worry Tom, that's a good thing.

And there is another danger as well. When we have an experience in our lives that forces us to ask the tough questions we may be unprepared. When we come face-to-face with the truly tough stuff of life - death, despair, tragedy - we may not be ready for the doubt that is inevitable. This may cause permanent damage to our faith.

But, if we allow ourselves the the space to ask tough questions on a regular basis, we can be more prepared for those tough moments. If we use doubt to grow our faith, it will be less likely to destroy our faith.

Perhaps we could all use a little more of Thomas in our lives. Perhaps we could use a little doubt to disrupt the comfortable faith that we tend to settle into. Perhaps we could find the chance to strengthen our own faiths through a willingness to doubt.