Rev. John Piper: Tsunami and Repentance
January 5, 2005
From pulpits to news programs, from the New York Times
to the Wall Street Journal, the message of the tsunami
was missed. It is a double grief when lives are lost
and lessons are not learned. Every deadly calamity is
a merciful call from God for the living to repent.
“Weep with those who weep,” the Bible says. Yes, but
let us also weep for our own rebellion against the
living God. Lesson one: weep for the dead. Lesson two:
weep for yourselves.
Every deadly calamity is a merciful call from God for
the living to repent. That was Jesus’ stunning
statement to those who brought him news of calamity.
The tower of Siloam had fallen, and 18 people were
crushed. What about this, Jesus? they asked. He
answered, “Do you think that they were worse offenders
than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell
you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise
perish” (Luke 13:4-5).
The point of every deadly calamity is this: Repent.
Let our hearts be broken that God means so little to
us. Grieve that he is a whipping boy to be blamed for
pain, but not praised for pleasure. Lament that he
makes headlines only when man mocks his power, but no
headlines for ten thousand days of wrath withheld. Let
us rend our hearts that we love life more than we love
Jesus Christ. Let us cast ourselves on the mercy of
our Maker. He offers it through the death and
resurrection of his Son.
This is the point of all pleasure and all pain.
Pleasure says: “God is like this, only better; don’t
make an idol out of me. I only point.” Pain says:
“What sin deserves is like this, only worse; don’t
take offense at me. I am a merciful warning.”
But the topless sunbathers amid the tsunami aftermath
in Phuket, Thailand did not get the message. Neither
did the man who barely escaped the mighty wave with
the help of a jungle gym and palm-leaf roof. He
concluded, “I am left with an immense respect for the
power of nature.” He missed it. The point is:
reverence for the Creator, not respect for creation.
Writing in the New York Times, David Brooks rightly
scorns the celebration of nature’s might: “When
Thoreau [celebrates] savage wildness of nature, he
sounds, this week, like a boy who has seen a war movie
and thinks he has experienced the glory of combat.”
But Brooks sees no message in the calamity: “This is a
moment to feel deeply bad, for the dead and for those
of us who have no explanation.”
David Hart, writing in the Wall Street Journal, goes
beyond Brooks and pronounces: “No Christian is
licensed to utter odious banalities about God’s
inscrutable counsels or blasphemous suggestions that
all this mysteriously serves God’s good ends.”
These responses are foreseen in ????ure: “I killed
your young men with the sword . . . yet you did not
return to me, declares the Lord” (Amos 4:10). “They
cursed the name of God who had power over these
plagues. They did not repent and give him glory”
(Revelation 16:9).
Contrary to Hart’s pronouncement, the Christian
????ures do indeed license us to speak of God’s
“inscrutable counsels” and how he works in all things
for mysterious good ends. To call this banal and
blasphemous is like a bird calling the wind under its
wing wicked.
Jesus said that the minutest event in nature is under
the control of God. “Are not two sparrows sold for a
penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground
apart from your Father” (Matthew 10:29). He said this
to give hope to those who would be killed for his
name.
He himself stood on the sea and stopped the waves with
a single word (Mark 4:39). Even if Nature or Satan
unleashed the deadly tidal wave, one word from Jesus
would have stopped it. He did not speak it. This means
there is design in this suffering. And all his designs
are wise and just and good.
One of his designs is my repentance. Therefore I will
not put God on trial. I am on trial. Only because of
Christ will the waves that one day carry me away bring
me safely to his side. Come. Repentance is a good
place to be.