Hope in the Rubble

Growing up I learned via various mediums (church, movies, books) that good and evil existed in separate realms and were color-coded.  The good guys had white hats and said certain words and phrases, and the bad guys wore black hats and said the exact opposite of the good guys.  And yet, I have since discovered that the world is not so clear and simple.  There has been a growing awareness that neat, color-coded categories are not reality.  I have learned that evil sometimes wears a white hat and speaks the language of Christian religion, dominant culture, and free market capitalism.  And goodness and mercy are mediated at times through what might looks like evil.

I am not as certain as I once was in my pronouncements about good and evil.  Where once I had good and evil partitioned into distinct categories, my vision is now blurred by contradictions that I cannot explain.  Where once I considered power and prestige as virtues, security and safety as essential rights, experience has taught me that sometimes the opposite is the case.  Where once I assigned guilt and suffering based on circumstances, conditions, or culture, I now wince at the callousness and arrogance of such thinking.

What I have witnessed is that God shows up in the midst of terrible suffering and injustice.  He cannot be relegated to one side of a dichotomy nor does he work only in particular arenas.  And thus, because God demonstrates his power, and expresses his mercy, grace, and love throughout all reality, even pain and suffering, sickness and death, I cannot make simple evil/goodness declarations.  If I do, I will surely miss him.

I do not believe God causes suffering, but neither can I believe is he on the outside of it looking in.  I must resist and fight evil, and join the efforts to seek justice for the oppressed, care for those on the margins, and work for the liberation of those trapped in the aftermath of an earthquake.  However, I must also be willing to see him in the wretchedness of life, the rubble of devastation, human suffering, and death.  And more than merely observing him there, I must join him there.

Because God showed up in the midst of our evil and abusive world, suffered our shame and reproach, and died a cruel death, I can believe and hope for his goodness and grace in the worst of situations.  Because I do not have an adequate explanation for hunger, human trafficking, and death, I must look for him in midst of these.  This, for me, is reason to hope.  Likewise, in the midst of my own rubble of greed, consumption, and evil desires, I long for him to be at work.  This is my hope.