When the waters reach the soul

Save me, O God, or the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths,where there is no foothold. I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched- My eyes fail, looking for my God...in your great love, O God, answer me with your sure salvation. you who seek God, may your hearts live! The Lord hears the needy. Psalm 69:1-3, 13

Today I write out of pain, helplessness, weakness and horror. In one day, our land has been shaken by the greatest tragedy ever recorded in our history: houses destroyed, roads razed to the ground, fields devastated and, above all, lives ruined and victims, many victims.

What yesterday was calm, peace, security, harmony and normality, has been transformed in the blink of an eye into a desolate landscape of tears, suffering, devastation and death, provoking a collective drama that will forever scar the soul of the community.

[destacate]What yesterday was calm, peace, security, harmony and normality, has been transformed in the blink of an eye into a desolate landscape of tears, suffering, devastation and death[/destacate] First there is surprise and helplessness: How much damage, how much injury, how much suffering, how much destruction! Then come the groans: Who takes care of the poor, who consoles those who mourn, who welcomes the oppressed?

Finally, the ultimate questions: Why does God allow it? If He is a loving Creator, where does He stand in the face of such a drama? Has He fallen asleep? Has He ignored it? Does He not care? When faced with such appalling suffering, words are not enough. We need more.

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us" Jonh. 1:14. The English Bible version of The Message by Eugene Peterson, translates this verse from John as, "The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighbourhood" What kind of neighbourhood did Jesus move into?

The village where he was born was subjected and conquered by the Egyptians, who turned it into a nation of slaves. Later, they were again oppressed by the violent and bloody Assyrian empire, only to become tributary to Babylon the Great, enduring decades of exploitation and servitude.

Then came the Persians, who were defeated by the Greek empire led by Alexander the Great. One of his successors, Antiochus Epiphanes, declared war against the Jews by transforming the temple of God into a centre of Zeus worship and, proclaiming himself to be the incarnation of God, sacrificed a pig in the Holy of Holies, spilling its blood over the sanctuary of the temple.

When Jesus came to this "neighbourhood" the Roman Empire ruled the world with an iron fist having turned God's people into a bunch of plundered and poor oppressed by misery and hunger.

[destacate]The answer, then and now, is: “God with us” (Emmanuel) The Son of Man appears as one of us, at the side of all those who suffer[/destacate]They were women, men, old men and children hit by a brutal history of needs and wants, scorn and neglect, humiliation, violence and death. Israel was a subdued and humiliated people and had reason to ask the same questions we ask ourselves today: Who comforts those who mourn? Who welcomes the oppressed? Why does God allow it? If He is a loving Creator, where does He stand in the face of such a drama? Has He fallen asleep? Has He ignored it? Does He not care?

The answer, then and now, is: "God with us" (Emmanuel). But not above and far away from the roof of the temple with mighty and pyrotechnical miracles that can erase all the conflicts of our history.

The Son of Man appears as one of us, from below, from near and within a human condition similar to ours, at the side of all those who suffer.

He is in solidarity with the questions that strike us; compassionate with the ignorance of our hearts; understanding in the face of our rebellious movements; merciful in the face of the indescribable stories of suffering that life proposes.

Because Jesus became man, immersing himself in the drama of a suffering humanity without showing His omnipotence, but in an intimate and vulnerable way.

From an incarnation that was able to listen, care, understand, welcome, feel, love and cry, that is, subject to all the limitations imposed on Him by a nature like ours, above all to let us know that we are not alone in the dark nights and that there is no hell of existence in which the eternal God is not present through the Son, who moved into the "neighbourhood" to live with our dramas and miseries.

[destacate]Contemplating the greatness of the Son subject to the Father until He reached the valley of the shadow of death, we can be sure that, when the waters reach the soul, His presence at our side will always bring life to the heart[/destacate] The suffering God, Jesus of Nazareth, accompanies us deeply and compassionately, knowing and understanding the depth of suffering by experience, having learned in the school of adversity what it takes to stay on the path, not accusing God of bad will for what happens, but offering his vulnerability to the Father as a supplicant offering: "Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him".

Therefore, contemplating the greatness of the Son subject to the Father until He reached the valley of the shadow of death, we can be sure that, when the waters reach the soul, His presence at our side will always bring life to the heart. Soli Deo Gloria.

Eduardo Delás is a pastor and Doctor in Systematic Theology.