The numbers for the catastrophic tsunami last month were staggering, even at the beginning. Watching the death count grow from 10,000 to 25,000 to 77,000 to more than 150,000 was mind-numbing, too much to comprehend, literally unbelievable.
When our thoughts finally caught up with our feelings, the questions began. Two of those questions, I think, illustrate a sad difference between a lot of Christian churches in general and too many Christians in particular.
The first question is, “Why?” Why would God allow such sudden loss of life? It is the problem of good and evil; it is an area of study theologians and philosophers refer to as theodicy, i.e., a defense of God. The problem, basically, is this: if God is good, and if God is all-powerful, then how can such evil exist in the world? Either God must not be good, or God must not be all-powerful.
(This issue has been tackled by brilliant Christian philosophers such as Alvin Plantinga of Notre Dame. Although not an easy read for most of us, his treatment can be found in his book God, Freedom, and Evil. According to one reviewer, it is not actually a theodicy but it rather a defense, since it doesn’t attempt know God’s mind, but “only” shows a rationale for evil. Maybe, maybe not.)
My point is this: for many evangelicals – and I include myself here – such things can cause a momentary or prolonged crisis in our belief system. We try to find biblical answers for why God might allow such a catastrophe, or at least find a lesson or benefit for such an event. The glory of God is a favorite of mine: “Somehow,” I pontificate, “God is being glorified through this. We may not understand it, but God’s glory is a greater good than the well-being of man.” There is truth in this, however unsatisfactory it may be.
If we are fortunate, we may have a pastor who can answer our questions for us; if we are a pastor, we may feel that it is our duty to our church to help them make sense of the sudden loss of more than 150,000 lives. And we need to make sense of it, or so it seems.
“Why” is a legitimate question. But is it the most important question?
There is another question that occurs to some Christians; it is not one that automatically or immediately occurs to me. I have a friend in Madison, WI, who asks the second question while I’m still formulating the first. The question he asks is, “What?” As in, “What can I do to help these people on the other side of the world? What should my response be? How can I embody the love of Christ in the face of such tragedy?” My friend is the senior pastor of Blackhawk Evangelical Free Church in Madison, and his primary concern is what to do, not what to think.
It is this, I think, that distinguishes this church from that church. The first church needs to understand and asks, “Why?” The second church needs to help and asks, “What?” And this sets my friend apart from me, too: while I am dealing with the horror with my mind, he is preparing to deal with it with his hands.
This is not a matter of right or wrong, good or bad. It is not a question of one or the other: many Christians and churches (I hope) ask both questions. But I fear there are many – too many – that deal with human suffering in their heads but not their hearts or hands. We ask “why?” and, getting an adequate answer, stop there. But that is not a fully biblical or Christian response.
To be Christ-like means to get involved. It may mean giving financially, going there and helping, or staying here and praying. The latter is especially vital. But to merely be content with having the right theological or philosophical perspective on a disaster of this (or any other) magnitude, is not enough.
Jesus Christ did not merely think in history, He acted in history. He didn’t just think about our salvation and arrive at a philosophical or theological conclusion regarding its need and how it might be accomplished. Jesus Christ did something.
Because He acted, we live. And a lot of people on the other side of the world need us to act if they are going to continue to live.


2 Cor 1:13