In acts of nature and of God, note the darkness of despair but also the light of hope
Many are questioning whether it’s coincidence that Hurricane Ida hit New Orleans on Aug. 29, exactly 16 years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city in 2005. Is it a coincidence or a secret and unfathomable act of God — or just part of the climatic cycle of the hurricane season? Your guess is as good as mine.
Some suggest that because of the coincidence of dates, there is more to it. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” they say.
Usually when someone uses that famous expression, it is in reference to an unexplainable miracle or some sort of unexpected positive act.
Actually this phrase is said to have originated from a poem by the 18th century English poet William Cowper, who wrote,
“God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill;
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.”
Often these days, we read that climate change is responsible for catastrophic events as compared to a divinely ordained act of nature. Who is to say that religion and science cannot both be correct?
We have a prayer in Judaism that addresses these kinds of events. Beginning on Monday night, the Jewish community around the world will celebrate the Jewish New Year, which we call Rosh Hashanah. The day begins a 10-day period of communal worship and reflection culminating on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Jewish people reflect and repent their actions and are supposed to ask for forgiveness for their moral failings to those they have offended, as well as to God for the transgressions they have committed against God.
Once a year on Rosh Hashanah we recite a prayer, written in the Middle Ages, that acknowledges we cannot control all outcomes in our lives and that God alone is the arbiter of human fate.
On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed
How many will pass from this world
On the fast of Yom Kippur it is sealed;
How many will pass away from this world,
How many will be born into it;
Who will live and who will die;
Who will reach the ripeness of age,
Who will be taken before their time;
Who by fire and who by water;
Who by war and who by beast;
Who by famine and who by drought;
Who by earthquake and who by plague;
Who by strangling and who by stoning;
Who will rest and who will wander;
Who will be tranquil and who will be troubled;
Who will be calm and who will be tormented;
Who will live in poverty and who in prosperity;
Who will be humbled and who will be exalted.”
These words, the prayer and the poem, are not only about climatic events. In their own times and genres of literary expression, each speaks of unknowable acts, whether nature’s upheavals or acts of humanity and bravery, that try to help us all make sense of human loss. These kinds of prayers show the darkness of despair and light of hope: that human beings can prevail over the most extreme devastation of human-created horrors — or nature’s wrath, which sometimes is attributed to God-ordained events.
We in Hilton Head got a taste of that paradox when Hurricane Matthew trampled over our community in 2016. If we learned anything, it was that when we work together and support each other, not just with prayers but with our bodies and heart and souls, we can help others rebuild their homes and their spirits.
The last part of the Jewish prayer says,
But through return to the right path,
Through prayer and righteous giving,
We can transcend the harshness of the (divine) decree.”
We have the opportunity again to prove that “the Lord works in mysterious ways,” for the sake of survivors of Hurricane Ida, the refugees from Afghanistan, the families of the Marines who lost their lives recently at the airport in Kabul. Or so many other worthy causes in which we can show how God — and we — move in mysterious ways for good.
I wish all a joyous and meaningful High Holy Days, and may we be written and sealed in the Book of Life.