Looking for Meaning in Boston

I was at work when I heard about the bombing in Boston.  Watching the event unfold through the relentless loop of pictures and video, I slowly began to realize that I knew exactly where it had happened.  I knew the street names. I relived the memories of getting off the Green Line and walking through Copley Square, admiring the old Trinity Episcopal Church that stands in stark contrast to the neighboring John Hancock building. I started to recall the people I met on those streets and the shops I had visited.  As these events replayed in my mind, my hope in a peaceful world seemed to crumble around me.

As a pastor, it is hard for me to forget that the church has only just begun to celebrate the season of Easter.  During this season, we rejoice in the resurrection of Jesus and the joy of a God that conquers death and injustice.  I began to wonder how I could preach such a good message when the world around us seems to breathe death and injustice.

These dark thoughts drew me to remember a scene from the television series, The West Wing, during which President Bartlett shouts at God. Towards the end of the clip, Bartlett speaks the following in Latin: 

"I give thanks to you, O Lord. Am I really to believe that these are the acts of a loving God? A just God? A wise God? To hell with your punishments. I was your servant here on Earth. And I spread your word and I did your work. To hell with your punishments. To hell with you!" 

It’s hard not to feel this way toward God when we experience events like 9/11, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook, or the bombing in Boston.   While I do not believe that God causes such events to happen as punishment or as part of a divine plan, I understand all too well the temptation to find someone/thing to blame, especially when a reason isn't immediately available.

Through a force of will, I started to change what I was seeing in those relentless loops of video. No longer did I pay attention to the loud sound of the bomb, the smoke rising, or the screaming of the people. Instead, I began to focus on all of the people rushing toward possible danger to help those who were hurt; the police officers that carried people out of harms way, the volunteers that pushed people in wheelchairs away from danger. Before long, I noticed that my Facebook newsfeed was filled with stories of ordinary heroes like this one.

It is natural for us to try to search for meaning in events that are so painful and senseless. While some religious people may suggest they know a greater purpose, or some sort of judgement in an event, such declarations are futile and often do more harm than good, even when we'll intentioned (which they too often are not). As much as we might try to make meaning out of the tragedy, we are more likely to find anger, sadness and pain if we dwell there too long.

While it isn't healthy to impose an artificial meaning on such tragedies, we can choose to see the full picture and focus our attention on where divinity can be found. I can't often find God in the hate of madmen but I can see God in the people who respond. Sometimes these people are Christian but often they are not.

In times like these, I have no doubt that the ordinary heroes we see in Boston are shining examples of how God asks all of us to act in the every day events of our lives. They restore my hope for a world where peace may have a chance; one where death and injustice may truly be overcome. This is what Easter is all about.