I’m currently addicted at the moment to this little tune by Brooke Fraser. Mix up a bit of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Cecelia,” at a bit more of the Beatles “Yellow Submarine,” and a dash of country, and press repeat often:
When we say that God Love, do we teach men that their fear of Him is groundless? No. As much as they fear will come upon them, possibly far more… The wrath will consume what they call themselves; so that the selves God made shall appear.
For that which cannot be shaken shall remain. That which is immortal in God shall remain in man. The death that is in them shall be consumed. It is the law of Nature- that is, the law of God- that all that is destructible shall be destroyed.
George MacDonald speaks of transformation, which we love to admire in Nature- the butterfly, the change of seasons- but never want to see in ourselves. We want to hold on to everything. God asks us to let go. As Brooke Fraser wrote in her “C.S. Lewis Song:” “My comfort world would prefer for me to be numb/ And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become…”
Such was the stark caption that appears at the end of Beyond the Gates, a movie focusing on the genocide in Rwanda as it occurred at a small Catholic School. The movie stars John Hurt as Father Christopher, a world-weary Catholic priest, and Hugh Dancy as Joe, an idealistic teacher, who provide refuge for hundreds of Tutsis as they flee the terror of the murderous Hutus in April of 1994.
The film asks many questions about faith and suffering, not least of which “Why does God allow bad things happen to innocent people?” and “Where is God when evil occurs in the world?”
I had a rambling discourse on this written, but I’ve deleted it to allow the character of Father Christopher speak for himself. At this point in the movie, the Hutus are directly outside the school gates, and the UN is about to leave. Joe has decided to leave with the UN. He sees Father Christopher standing among the distraught Tutsis with a calm look on his face. He has seen what Joe has seen- the murder of friends, the abandonment of those who could help, the fear of innocents about to be slaughtered. Joe asks him, “Why are you doing this?” to which Father Christopher replies:
“You ask, Joe, where is God in everything that is happening here, in all this suffering? I know exactly where He is. He’s right here, with these people, suffering. His Love is here, more intense and profound than I have ever felt. And my heart is here, Joe, my soul. If I leave, I think I may not find it again.”
Too often we shoulder responsibilities on God for our actions, and never take an inward glance to see our own choices affecting the world around us. The question should not be “Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?” but “Why do we insist on choosing to do bad things to our neighbor?” Reflection on this question from a day-to-day perspective to a global perspective might allow us to see God where He is, and to follow Him there, rather than demanding his intervention from a distance.
Happily, it seems that a new consciousness from this perspective is taking place. As a small example, check out this video from Brooke Fraser’s new CD Albertine, which focuses on the responsibility of the faithful to areas like Rwanda: