No one deserves suffering; Texans deserve mercy
Photo: Gerald Farinas.
Speaking as Church elder, I need to address something that’s been weighing heavily on my heart since this weekend’s disaster in Texas.
I’ve been watching fellow Christians, people who claim to follow Jesus, say that victims of floods and other disasters somehow deserved what happened to them because of how they vote or where they live.
This breaks my heart and I believe it breaks God’s heart too.
And it breaks because I remember growing up, as a closeted gay boy, watching televangelists on TV claiming natural disasters were our fault.
Political left or political right, this isn’t just wrong. It’s dangerous for our souls.
Our Presbyterian tradition has always taught us that we can’t know God’s mind or judge God’s purposes in suffering.
When disasters strike, we don’t get to play God and decide who deserves help and who doesn’t.
That’s not our job.
Our job is to love our neighbors. Period.
Jesus was clear about this. When his followers tried to blame suffering on sin, he told them they were wrong.
When people asked if disasters happened because victims were worse sinners, Jesus said no.
He told us to worry about our own hearts, not to judge others.
We believe in grace, that God loves us not because we deserve it, but simply because God chooses to love us.
If that’s true for us, then it’s true for everyone, regardless of their politics.
When we start thinking some people deserve disaster while others don’t, we’re putting ourselves in God’s place.
That’s the real sin of pride and it separates us from God.
I’ve served our Church long enough to see how hatred poisons everything it touches. When we let political anger control our compassion, we stop being followers of Jesus.
Instead of asking “How can I help?” we start asking “Do they deserve help?”
That question should never leave our lips.
The Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Order calls us to be peacemakers and to seek justice with love.
When disasters hit, our calling is simple:
Show up with help, not judgment.
Bring water, not condemnation.
Offer shelter, not sermons about who deserves what.
This matters for our own souls too. Every time we choose judgment over mercy, we become a little harder, a little less like Christ.
We risk becoming the kind of Christians who are technically right about doctrine but completely wrong about love.
I sure as Hell don’t want to become one of those folks.
I’m asking us all to examine our hearts.
Are we responding to suffering with compassion or with politics?
Are we being Christ’s hands and feet or are we being judges?
Because if we’re honest, we all need mercy, and none of us deserve the grace we’ve received.
Let’s choose love.
Let’s choose mercy.
Let’s be the church Jesus called us to be.
