The Wednesday Reflection: "Surprised by Evil"

Psalm 118

¹Give thanks to the LORD, for the ^| LORD is good;

God's mercy en- ^| dures forever.

²Let Israel ^| now declare,

"God's mercy en- ^| dures forever."

³Let the house of Aar- ^| on declare,

"God's mercy en- ^| dures forever."

⁴Let those who fear the ^| LORD declare,

"God's mercy en- ^| dures forever."

⁵In distress I called ^| to the LORD,

who answered by set- ^| ting me free.

⁶The LORD is with me; I ^| shall not fear;

what can anyone ^| do to me?

⁷The LORD is with me ^| as my helper;

I will look in triumph on ^| those who hate me.

⁸It is better to take refuge ^| in the LORD

than to ^| trust in mortals.

⁹It is better to take refuge ^| in the LORD

than to ^| trust in rulers.[1]

I don’t have a lot of good feelings today, even though it is the third day of the season of Easter. On Monday morning police received an anonymous call directing them to a house in Iowa City, where they found a wife and four children bludgeoned to death. The man responsible was found later in the burning remains of the family minivan, which he’d driven into a concrete pillar just off Interstate 80. He was to stand trial for embezzling over $500,000 from the bank where he worked.

Maybe I’m just doing Holy Week in reverse this year, because what I am feeling today feels suspiciously like the anger and guilt and horror and disgust and fear I usually experience on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. I’m angry that a husband and father would waste several hundred thousand dollars on illegal drugs. I’m disgusted that he took out his sickness, selfishness and pain on the innocent family God had given to him. I’m horrified to think of those children’s fear and how terrible their last moments of life must have been. I’m sick at hearing from the neighbors what a wonderful, quiet family they were. I’m not sure if I’m more angry at who we’re becoming, that every time someone snaps, they take several innocents with them, or at the ghastly solemnity of the media that will descend on this story like a swarm of locusts and chew on it until every detail has been stripped bare of the last shreds of decency and respect.

Most of all, I’m feeling scared, because I wonder how easily that story could have been my story.

Just to clarify, I’ve never for a second considered any kind of physical harm to Kristin, Ainsley or our daughter-to-be. But I also know that NONE of us ever STARTS with the idea of harming another person – the darkness of evil and sin, both within us and without, is deceptive, alluring and crafty, drawing us ever deeper until we’re so far gone we are lost and don’t have any idea where to turn.

I’d wager that’s exactly what it felt like for the father who killed his family before killing himself. I’d wager that’s what anyone who commits an act of desperate violence feels, like the trap is impossible to escape any other way, and the façade you’ve created can no longer hide the emptiness and darkness inside.

That’s the final thing that has affected me this week, with this tragedy following so close upon Easter: the people who say “I can’t believe this man would do such a thing.” As if any of us are immune to the deadly effects of sin and evil, and perception really is the truth.

The danger with jumping too quickly to the resurrection Easter morning is forgetting what brought Jesus to the tomb in the first place: the evil and sin within all of us. The weeping in Gethsemane was real. The abandonment of the disciples was real. The betrayal of Judas was real. Peter’s denial was real. The abuse of the Roman soldiers was real. The cross was real. Jesus’ death was real. The resurrection doesn’t take away the sin which caused it: the resurrection is God’s ultimate refusal to let evil have the final word, and even though the war is lost, evil is still fighting to inflict real harm on you and on your neighbor.

One of my seminary professors once said, “The last thing a good Lutheran pastor should be is surprised.” But I’ve been surprised this week – surprised at the strength of my reaction to this tragic story. It reminds me that ultimately my trust has to be placed in God’s hands, because even the best relationships in my life can be corrupted by the same power that claimed the lives of those six unfortunate people. But I know I will also be surprised in time by God’s mercy, and in the end that mercy has already had the last word, so I cling to God and pray that in time healing might come out of this tragedy. Give thanks to the Lord, for the Lord is good: God’s mercy endures forever. Amen.

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[1] From Sundays and Seasons.com. Copyright 2008 Augsburg Fortress. All rights reserved.

Reprinted by permission under Augsburg Fortress Liturgies Annual License #20449.