Rev. Joseph Griesedieck, an Episcopal priest in Manhattan, volunteered at Ground Zero in the days after September 11^th. He tells this brief story about his experience there:

[A] rescue worker said to me, 'Father, we need you over here.' And the time was flying by. Hours seemed like minutes. And I went over to where the rescue worker called me, and he said, 'We need you to bless the buckets.' I didn't know what he was talking about until the first bucket was put under my nose. And as I looked into the bucket I saw the unspeakable. I saw a forearm. And it was clear to me that the whole of humanity was represented in that one bucket, because there were parts of various individuals together. And it was much like a crude burial service. And the only thing I could do was add some semblance of dignity to a rather undignified situation, so I made the sign of the cross over the buckets as they came to me, holding my breath, numb, but all the same, trying to add some sense of dignity to a horrible situation. I asked one rescue worker, 'That was a body part?' And he said, like a robot, 'Yes, Father,' and on he went to the next bucket. And I realized then that I was in the right place...I felt nauseated, sad, angry, confused, and completely lost. And yet I knew I was supposed to be there. (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/faith/interviews/makiya.html, 2002)

Pain and suffering have a profound affect upon people. The existence of evil in the world has a way of shaping our beliefs. In his Pulitzer Prize winning novel, Growing Up, columnist Russell Baker writes about the despair he felt after losing his father as a child. He writes, "After this, I never cried again with any real conviction, nor expected much of anyone's God except indifference." p61

Some people who suffer probe and interrogate life. Their lives become a litany of questions. Why did this happen? Where was God when I needed Him most? Haven't I been good enough?

In his book entitled, Night, Elie Wiesel, a survivor of Auschwitz tells of a Rabbi he knew in one of the camps. He was Polish ". . . a bent old man, whose lips were always trembling. He used to pray all the time, in the block, in the yard, in the ranks. He would recite whole passages of the Talmud from memory, argue with himself, ask questions and answer himself. And one day he said to me: 'It's the end. God is no longer with us.' And as though he had repented of having spoken such words, so clipped, so cold, he added in his faint voice: 'I know. One has no right to say things like that. I know man is too small, too humble and inconsiderable to seek to understand the mysterious ways of God. But what can I do? I'm not a sage, one of the elect, nor a saint. I'm just an ordinary creature of flesh and blood. I've got eyes, too, and I can see what they are doing here. Where is the divine mercy? Where is God? How can I believe, how could anyone believe, in this merciful God?" p72ff

But the existence of evil persuades some people to move beyond agnosticism to militant unbelief. Novelist, Ian McEwan writes,

...my cumulative experience of life suggests to me that the distribution of misfortune is completely random. Children die of cancer and bad people live a long time. Good people get crushed by a truck...In other words, if there is a God, he's a very indifferent God. The idea of prayer seems to me almost infantile, this appeal to an entity who could intervene [but] who clearly hasn't intervened. Or if he has intervened, he's done so malignedly. It sort of makes me rather feel sad when I heard priests talking about September 11 and reminding us that God moves in mysterious ways. Well, spare me this God, I say...When those planes hit those buildings and thousands of innocent people died and tens, twenties, hundreds of thousands of people started to grieve, I felt, more than ever, confirmed in my unbelief. What God, what loving God, could possibly allow this to happen? (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/faith/interviews/makiya.html, 2002)

Looking back on the trajedy of September 11^th, Kanan Makiya, a professor of Middle Eastern studies at Brandeis University and a noted atheist, says,

When you see human behavior like this, for me, it just reconfirms my atheism. It doesn't make me militant about it at all. I'm not proud of it. It's just a view of the world. It's just the way I am. I can't make meaning of the world otherwise. But I certainly couldn't make meaning of the world through some notion of God after a horror like that...It just affirms that hopelessness. (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/faith/interviews/makiya.html, 2002)

The 18^th century Scottish philosopher David Hume is another thinker who joined the rank of skeptics after wrestling with the reality of evil and suffering. Hume wrote,

Were a stranger to drop suddenly into this world, I would show him as specimen of its ills a hospital full of diseases, a prison crowded with malefactors and debtors, a field strewn with carcasses, a fleet floundering in the ocean, a nation languishing under tyranny, famine or pestilence. Honestly, I don't see how you can possibly square with an ultimate purpose of love. Quoted in Ravi Zacharias, Cries of the Heart p63

Some people respond to evil and suffering with agnosticism, other atheism. Then there are those who look at the existence of evil and affirm that life is meaningless. They cope with the world by adopting a sinister sort of nihilism.

Shortly before his death, Mark Twain wrote, "A myriad of men are born; they labor and sweat and struggle; . . . they squabble and scold and fight; they scramble for little mean advantages over each other; age creeps upon them; infirmities follow; . . . those they love are taken from them, and the joy of life is turned to aching grief. It (death) comes at last--the only unpoisoned gift earth ever had for them - and they vanish from a world where they were of no consequence, . . . a world which will lament them a day and forget them forever." http://www.book-portal.net/twain/autobio/auto3.html

Viktor Frankl, a Jewish philosopher spent his life exploring the cosmic emptiness that plagues our generation. He wrote, "Clinics are crowded with people suffering from a new kind of neurosis, a sense of total and ultimate meaninglessness of life"

As Christians, we acknowledge the existence of evil, pain and suffering. And at the same time we affirm what the Scriptures teach and what the Church has always believed- that God is all-powerful and all- loving, yet evil exists. But, there remains a question to be answered: If God is indeed all-powerful and all-loving, why doesn't He do away with, or at the very least minimize evil and suffering?

Answering this question is perhaps the most challenging problem the Christian Church faces. If we're to influence our culture with the gospel, we must develop a well-reasoned answer to this troubling question. I can't do it in a brief homily, but I can offer one suggestion. Pain doesn't fall from the hand of a capricious, whimsical God. For the Christian, there is meaning in evil and suffering. We believe that God harnesses evil and turns it for good.

Perhaps you've heard the story of the 17th century hymnist Georg Neumark. In 1641, at the age of 20, Neumark was a brilliant and promising young man. He was on his way to study law at the University of Konigsberg. After passing through Magdeburg with some friends, he was attacked by bandits who robbed him of everything he had save his little prayer book and some spare change.

Having nothing, Neumark was forced to give up his plans to study law and wandered for some time as an unemployed, destitute person. He returned to Magdeburg, but couldn't find work. He went to Lüneburg, Winsen, and Hamburg, but the story was the same - no work. All of his friends abandoned him. If there was ever an example of meaningless suffering, surely this is it. Why would God allow such things to happen to him?

That's how some people would react, but it's not how Neumark reacted. He traveled to Kiel where he found a friend in Nicolaus Becker, a local minister. Day after day passed, but there was no work for Neumark. He teetered on the brink of financial ruin. The only help he received was from his friend and pastor. During the winter, he managed to find work as a tutor, though times were still hard. Nevertheless, it was during this time that he wrote his famous hymn: "If Thou But Suffer God to Guide Thee." The hymn extols the awesome grace of God in guiding the events of our lives.

Neumark remained in Kiel until he saved enough money to study in Königsberg, where in 1643 he finally enrolled as a law student. He hit the books for five years, studying also poetry while continuing to make a living as a tutor. During this time (in 1646) he was once again blighted by tragedy. He was again stripped of all his belongings, this time by fire. Despite these enormous setbacks, Neumark finished his law degree. In 1651, he was noticed by Duke Wilhelm II, the president of the 17th century German literary association. The following year, Neumark—once a totally destitute man—was appointed by the Duke as court poet, librarian, and registrar of the administration at Weimar. He was later named secretary of the Ducal Archives. In 1656, he became chief secretary. http://www.reporterinteractive.org/news/082504/hy082504.htm

Neumark went on to bless thousands with his hymns and great explications of God's grace. Mark what he writes in one stanza of his hymn, "Suffer God to Guide Thee."

If thou but suffer God to guide thee,
And hope in Him through all thy ways,
He'll give thee strength whatever betide thee,
And see thee through the evil days.
Who hopes in God's unchanging love
Builds on the Rock that naught can move.
...God hears the call of those in need,
The souls that trust in Him indeed

Remember that Neumark wrote this hymn before he was blessed with any of his lofty positions. He believed, together with St. Paul who wrote that, "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, ³⁹neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom 8:38-39).

The Bible does not answer all of our questions about the existence of evil. But in the suffering and victory of the cross, God offers a powerful reply. He harnesses pain and suffering and brings good out of it.

A few weeks ago I came across a story about a woman named Edith Taylor. Her husband was a businessman who traveled extensively in Southeast Asia. At one point it was necessary for him to stay in Japan for an extended period.

He and Edith wrote regularly. Then the letters stopped. She tried to contact him but was unsuccessful. Then he finally wrote. In his letter he told her that he'd fallen in love with his maid, a young Japanese girl who was now living with him. He wanted to end the marriage immediately and marry the girl.

Edith sobbed as she read the news. The children watched. Then their son said, "Mommy can we still love daddy even though he doesn't love us?" Through her tears, she looked at her son and said yes. They prayed together and committed themselves to love the unlovely. So the letters continued from the United States to Japan, but they were never answered.

One day, years later a letter arrived. Mr. Taylor had cancer and was going to die. He wrote and asked Edith if she would care for his new family after he was gone. Edith later said it was the most difficult decision she ever made, but she agreed. When he died, she flew the family to the United States, moved them in with her and helped the mother to raise the children.

That is an amazing picture of God's ability to harness evil and turn it for good. May God give us the grace we need to cooperate with Him in this heavenly endeavor. Amen