Wednesday, March 9, 2005

In May 1937 the largest aircraft ever built, the dirigible Hindenburg, collapsed slowly in flames as it was mooring at Lakehurst, NJ. The radio commentator, observing the people below trying to run for their lives, was so moved the only words he could stammer out at one moment were ‘Oh, the humanity’. Thirty-five people died in the flames.

This article first appeared on the website: www.spiritrestoration.org in January 2005

In May 1937 the largest aircraft ever built, the dirigible Hindenburg, collapsed slowly in flames as it was mooring at Lakehurst, NJ. The radio commentator, observing the people below trying to run for their lives, was so moved the only words he could stammer out at one moment were ‘Oh, the humanity’. Thirty-five people died in the flames. It was probably the first ever live’ radio broadcast and the first disaster film repeated over and over again, something we have for good or ill become used to.

Words fail too as we, after the event, see the amateur videos of impending horror as monster tsunami waves race towards us and fellow human beings are moments away from death.

How could God allow such terrible things to happen to innocent people, one is tempted to ask? Perhaps for once we Christians may begin to understand why for some Jews the Holocaust undermined their faith in a God, loving or otherwise.

Britain’s Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks pointed out in the London Times on new year’s day that the religious question, however, is not ‘Why did this happen?’ but ‘What then shall we do?’

The only adequate religious response, he believes, is to say, ‘God, I do not know why this terrifying disaster has happened but I do know what You want of us: to help the afflicted, comfort the bereaved, send healing to the injured, and aid those who have lost their livelihoods and homes.’ He writes, ‘We cannot understand God, but we can strive to imitate His love and care.’

Queen Elizabeth, head of the Church of England, said in her Christmas message that one of the most important teachings of the Christian religion was contained in the parable of the Good Samaritan - ‘A timeless story of a victim of a mugging who was ignored by his own countrymen but helped by a foreigner, and a despised foreigner at that.’ - where Jesus answered the question, Who is my neighbour? She was addressing the way religion and culture had become sources of internal division and conflict rather than of bringing people together. But her words came to have immediate international application when a day later the tsunami struck. ‘Everyone is our neighbour, no matter what race, creed or colour,’ she said. ‘The need to look after a fellow human being is far more important than any cultural or religious differences.’

This neighbourliness was truly demonstrated as we saw see the world giving its heart to the stricken areas regardless of differences. In Britain there was an immediate and unprecedented outpouring of money and supplies to the region as there was by the people and government of the United States as they joined the world in the largest relief effort ever mounted. This looking after a fellow human being was demonstrated on the ground, too, as, for instance, in South India a Hindu temple gave shelter to Muslims and Christians and in Sri Lanka Roman Catholics made homeless. were housed in a Muslim mosque. We even witnessed, and prayed that this process would continue, government troops and rebels in Indonesia and Sri Lanka finding common cause in helping the devastated areas. This bore out the Chief Rabbi’s wish: ‘Having seen how small and vulnerable humanity is in the face of nature, might we not also see how small are the things that divide us, and how tragic to add grief to grief.’

Michael Smith, associate editor of For A Change Magazine, adds an important dimension for us all, particularly as we get older and think of our mortality: ‘Death can be very sudden, a vehicle accident, a heart attack, an earthquake and a terrifying tsunami or a terrorist atrocity. What will be the state of my spirit, my soul, when my time is up? Will I be at peace - with my family and my friends, and within myself? What about the daily fears? The anxieties? The petty angers? Will they be resolved? Will I be prepared? Will I feel forgiven for my many shortcomings? Will I have a sense of fulfilment?

‘Perhaps we all need,’ he writes, ‘to live our lives as if we were immortal, but also as if we could be snatched away at any moment.’

The tragedy of the last days and the ever growing statistics of dead and missing was given a human face for me in a way which no news reports could convey in a new year’s eve email sent by a friend in Sri Lanka, a Buddhist bookseller:
‘It has been a terrible time for all of us. Over 30,000 dead, over 100,000 missing, our tourist industry in shambles.... We thought we had lost 12 members of our staff but we have found them all in refugee camps etc. But our Galle shop is destroyed: the doors have burst for the pressure and the water had filled up to the ceiling and destroyed all the books. The loss in monetary terms is about Rs 15 million. But we are grateful that all our staff were spared. Books can be replaced but how can we replace lives lost? We have lost 3 first cousins who were drowned in their own home and our 84-year-old Uncle who was also drowned. Our company wants to help rebuild a school library in a poor school in the area.

‘All the best for 2005.’