Several weeks ago, while I was out of town, I received a call from my son who was at my house to retrieve something he had forgotten. He was calling from my basement which confused me. Why would he be in my basement? He explained there was a storm warning and he had taken shelter there. While he was still on the phone, he went back upstairs to see if things had calmed down. At that point, all he could say was, “Oh my God!”
The National Weather Service confirmed an EF-1 tornado ripped down my street. One hundred-ten mph winds left our neighborhood in shambles. Most of my neighbors would tell a similar story: They were going about their business on a quiet evening when their phones sounded alarms. Before they could figure out if the alert was for our area, the sky went black, winds roared and debris flew. Most said by the time they retreated to their basements, it was all over. All in about 60 seconds.
One house lost its roof, garages were blown off foundations, huge trees were blown down, some of their branches piercing through roofs and siding. Thankfully, no one was hurt.
Somehow, my house escaped major damage with only a few dents and dings. Even my tree, which lost several branches, is still standing. My house sustained some of the least amount of damage in our neighborhood.
Someone said, teasingly (I think), God was looking out for the Pastor. I doubt that. There are plenty of events in my life that I can point to that gives evidence to contradict that theory. And besides, some of the kindest people I know suffered severe damage to their property. Was God out to get them? I don’t believe that kind of thinking holds up although it isn’t uncommon.
When bad things happen to good people, we want to point our fingers at something. Especially when it comes to natural disasters, there is a thought that God is behind these phenomena and when something bad happens to someone, they must have deserved it for something they’ve done wrong.
Our faith story gives numerous examples of God’s chosen ones sorting this out. The prophet Elijah is just one. Things were not going well for Elijah. While he was working hard at bringing God’s word to the people, he had drawn the wrath of Queen Jezebel who had called for his head. He fled for his life and finally, tired, hungry and doubting God is with him anymore, seeks shelter in a cave. There he hears a voice instructing him to go to the entrance for the Lord is about to pass by.
First, there is the howling of rock splitting wind. But the Lord was not in the wind. Then there was the rumbling of a ground-shaking earthquake, But the Lord was not in the earthquake. Then came the crackling roar of a great fire. But the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire, the sound of sheer silence and a still small voice. In contrast to the cacophony, God’s presence comes to Elijah in the quietness of a whisper.
In our neighborhood the next day, dozens of chainsaws and 50 people descended on our street to clean up. Meals were provided. Temporary housing arranged. Caregivers for children and pets offered. The community came out and supported those affected in most generous ways. And that’s where God was experienced most clearly. God was not in the wind, but in grace and love expressed through hands, hearts and a still small voice.
— Reflections appears regularly on the religion page. The column features a variety of local writers, coordinated through the Monroe Area Clergy Group. Todd Hackman is senior pastor at St. John’s United Church of Christ in Monroe.
