WHAT WOULD I DO?

Last year's Lenten season revealed much to me about the suffering of Christ. Some of this insight was gleaned from one of our pastor's sermons about Christ's experience at Gethsemane. Imagine His sorrow and excruciating pain when He realized for the first time in his human experience that he was going to be in a place feeling the total absence of God, of Abba. Can I fathom that feeling? With all that God has given me, and with all the blessings I've received, can I even imagine the hopelessness Christ must have been feeling? I don't think that I can honestly say, "Yes, I know how He must have felt."

Time passed after that sermon, but those thoughts continued to play in my mind. Then along came Hurricane Katrina. I, like so many of you, watched the horror of the devastation — the loss of life, the loss of possessions, the chaos, the misery. I took this horror the next step, fearing the loss of hope. Again I asked: "Can I fathom the feelings of loss that these poor people were going through? With all that God has given me, and with all the blessings I've received, can I image their sense of hopelessness?"

I started to reflect on the importance of family and of God's presence. If I lost everything, would my faith be strong enough to cause me not to lose hope? I know that I could reach out to my family and tell them I needed their help. I would not even have to say "help." I would be able to just call and tell them I would be coming to stay with them until I was able to get back on my feet. I know my family would be there for me. I know they would want to be there for me.

But I realized that the folks I was seeing on TV didn't even have the wherewithal to call someone to say they would be coming to stay with them until who knows when. Some had no one to call. What hopelessness they must have felt.

What if I lost everything? What if I had no one to call? Would my faith be strong enough to prevent me from losing hope? Who would I call? My dearest friend and confidant, who suffered from depression, told me that when working through this disease she came to realize that God was there for her. She came to understand that God is the only one we can depend on. My friend, the victims of Katrina, Christ, all experienced the sense of hopelessness.

One difference between Christ and us is that Christ knew what was coming. Yet, He accepted it on our behalf. He did not pass the cup. He accepted the hopelessness for us. He accepted the cross and its agony. He did it so that we would never have to be without God. He did it to show that God will be there for me, and for you. I can only pray that when my Katrina comes, my faith will be so strong that I know God is there for me. This I hope.

— Ed Federico

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist