Thursday, January 14, 2010

Hiroshima and Haiti

In the wake of Tuesday's tragic earthquake in Haiti and the ongoing reports of the devastation--I think President Obama's adjectives "cruel" and "incomprehensible" were pretty spot on--I thought about the reading below from Henri Nouwen.

These are the types of circumstances that test my faith in a loving God. Nouwen's hope of a God at work in the midst of the pain--almost unnoticeable but still there--is my hope too. Read especially the final paragraph.

Lima, Peru, December 2, 1981
"A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him..." (Isa. 11:1-2)

These words from last night's liturgy have stayed with me during the day. Our salvation comes from something small, tender, and vulnerable, something hardly noticeable. God, who is the Creator of the Universe, comes to us in smallness, weakness, and hiddenness.

I find this a hopeful message. Somehow, I keep expecting loud and impressive events to convince me and others of God's saving power; but over and over again I am reminded that spectacles, power plays, and big events are the ways of the world. Our temptation is to be distracted by them and made blind to the "shoot that shall sprout from the stump."

When I have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence--the smile of a baby, the carefree play of children, the words of encouragement and gestures of love offered by friends--I will always remain tempted to despair.

The small child of Bethlehem, the unknown young man of Nazareth, the rejected preacher, the naked man on the cross, he asks for my full attention. The work of our salvation takes place in the midst of a world that continues to shout, scream, and overwhelm us with its claims and promises. But the promise is hidden in the shoot that sprouts from the stump, a shoot that hardly anyone notices.

I remember seeing a film on the human misery and devastation brought by the bomb on Hiroshima. Among all the scenes of terror and despair emerged one image of a man quietly writing a word in calligraphy. All his attention was directed to writing that one word. That image made this gruesome film a hopeful film. Isn't that what God is doing? Writing the divine word of hope in the midst of our dark world?

Henri Nouwen, Gracias! A Latin American Journal

4 comments:

Rebecca Snavely said...

That's a beautiful and heart-rending image. Thanks for sharing - something to sit with and a reminder to appreciate the small wonders.

grammye said...

Yes! I've just been reading a book about the beginnings of the Church, following Christ's resurrection. Despite (or because of??) persecution and suffering, faith flourished and the Good News spread. In this world, there is no rock, but Christ, to cling to. May His Spirit enable and empower us to give of ourselves in whatever way He leads, to share His love and care with those who are hurting.

Zeke Fantastic said...

Hey nice post and happy birthday to ye! I was going to call but I cant find you number, that's just the kind of guy I am. Love you and the fam. I will email you too

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