How do we respond?
Wednesday marks one week since the aviation disaster between the helicopter and airplane. It is an overwhelming tragedy. Compounding the awfulness is how preventable it was, the close proximity to the Pentagon on 9/11, and lingering memories of a similar plane crash in 1982.
Details swirl in our minds. We ache for those lost, their families, and everyone involved.
My cousin is a pilot who happened to fly the same plane into Reagan National only days before. He spoke with me about how he’s processing everything and used the word “stoic.” He has a military background, and his response sounded familiar. Like him, many have learned to walk through tragedy, and we can identify with being stoic and demonstrating fortitude during difficult circumstances.
However, I must confess this incident shakes our spiritual core more than usual — at least that's how I feel. What about you?
As I’ve thought over this past week and grappled with the sad events that unfolded, I’m reminded of three things.
First, we are human.
This world is hard, and only God is capable of handling it all. I learned this simple truth while going through counseling due to losses I’d experienced in the warzone. We are not designed to handle all the collective grief and dwell on the awful details that we encounter in life. Only God can do that.
I also learned that prayer provides comfort and solace. In doing so, we are not avoiding the catastrophe or minimizing the sorrow that so many are going through. But, getting lost in sadness doesn’t help anyone. Prayer is something tangible we can do for people.
Second, it’s okay to ask why.
The question itself provides a path back to God. Elisabeth Elliott asked the same question after her husband and four missionary friends were brutally killed in 1956 while trying to help an Ecuadorian tribe. Then a young mother, she wrote:
“There would be no [answer] on this side of Heaven to that age-old question why.” But, “I have found peace,” for “the answer . . . is not an explanation but a person, Jesus Christ, my Lord and my God.”
Her words are not platitudes. Rather, they show her raw trust in God despite the unimaginable. Her response points us back to our Savior, who “is close to the brokenhearted.”
Third, our Heavenly Father deeply understands grief.
The shortest verse in the Bible provides much comfort as it describes how “Jesus wept” at the death of his friend Lazarus. In the midst of overwhelming sorrow, we can cling to the words that Jesus — the Son of God made Man — wept and shed tears.
Just as a father holds a hurting child, our Heavenly Father holds us — and others — tightly. He keeps a record of sorrows and promises to “wipe away every tear.” The future will have no more “mourning.” Knowing that like children, we would need reassurance, the Lord tenderly repeated in the next Scripture passage that His promises “are trustworthy and true.”
How do we respond to last week’s heartbreaking events?
We pray for all those impacted — the families, friends, colleagues, first responders, and investigators. The Bible says the “Father of compassion” provides comfort that “transcends all [human] understanding.”
That must be our prayer for them now and in the months ahead.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.
The Father of compassion and the God of all comfort [will]
comfort us in all our troubles.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
(Psalm 34:18; 2 Corinthians 1:3-4; Philippians 4:7)
Thank you Hilary, for your thoughts on how to grapple with such a tragedy. My daughter lost three fellow skaters from Fairfax Ice Arena with whom she was friends (she had skated with them in the Virginia Ice Theater) and five of their parents, some of whom we also knew. In Judaism, the traditional response to hearing of a death is "Baruch Dayan ha-Emet," or "Blessed Be the True Judge." This is an acknowledgement of mortality, an expression of humility and of our faith in G-d's ultimate plan, and it keeps us from saying something ill-advised or awkward in times of tragedy such as this. And then you do something practical, like give charity in their name. It is a constructive way to cope. But even a week later, I am tearing up thinking of these talented young people, lost, and all the others on that flight.
Thank you, Hilary.