God and Katrina

Rabbi David Burstein

Education Director, Temple Beth Or

God and Hurricane Katrina

“The earth was null (tohu) and void (vohu), and there was darkness upon the face of the deep, and the spirit of God hovered above the water (Gen. 1:2).”

It is Sunday night — the fourth of September — and I have just put my two children to sleep.

As I watch them softly breathing, I turn on my laptop and begin a nightly ritual that started on Tuesday of the previous week.

I sit staring at the horror that unfolds on the glowing screen, bodies and babies, polluted water, hospitals without sanitation, looting and murder and rape. And when it gets to be too much, I turn to my sleeping children and say, “what if?”

What if it were me in the Superdome, sweltering heat, no sanitation, my home, my life, gone and my children not sleeping gently but crying for food and water? What if I were hungry beyond compare, scared and lost, searching in squalid waters for clean water for my family?

What if I were so poor I had no choice but to sit on my roof and watch my past sink beneath the brown waters?

And where is my God — the God of Israel, the God of all human beings — in the aftermath of Katrina?

The God who has blessed me with so much: why has God left those on the Gulf Coast to die?

It is natural in the wake of a tragedy with the magnitude of Katrina to turn and ask such questions.

Hopefully by the time this column reaches you, the answers to some of these queries will be answered.

The fate of thousand upon thousands of refugees will be decided; the rebuilding of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast will be underway; explanations for response time will be explained; and the stench of death and violence and hopelessness will be slowly drained with the waters of Pontchartrain.

And I can only pray that the hope and faith that is inherent in all of us, the humanity that God has given to us, will be evident.

For even in the darkest of times the light of faith can shine through. And in the endless nights of despair God will always be there.

Elie Weisel tells of an incident at the Auschwitz Nazi camp: “Inside the kingdom of night I witnessed a strange trial. Three rabbis blame God for having allowed His children to be massacred over and over again.

“They continued to meet together in confusion and wrestle with their anger. But what happened next is to me even more awesome still. After the trial at which God had been found guilty as charged, one of the rabbis looked at the watch and said, ‘Ah, it is time for prayers.’ And with that, the three rabbis, all faithful and God-fearing men, bowed their heads and prayed.”

How could these men fault God in one moment and offer praise the next moment? Because we as Jews have a real, vibrant relationship with God.

God extends to us the blessing of such a relationship.

We struggle, we question, we argue, we cry out. But in the end if we let ourselves, we feel God’s presence.

And so we pray, Adonai li v’lo Ira . With these words we end our Adon Olam prayer: God is with me, I shall not fear.

Not fearing takes courage and it takes faith. It is not blind and will be tested as it has been for me over the course of this past week.

But as my children stir quietly I also read stories of people opening their homes and hearts, volunteers and doctors and nurses and soldiers and leaders sacrificing to help another in need.

And I feel a glimmer of hope and I know God is here. Adonai li v’lo Ira — God is with me, I shall not fear.

May we know that even when the night seems dark that we never stand alone. That we are held in the hands of God, gently and compassionately. Never alone, we have been given the gift of hope.

My prayer this New Year is that we as a country, as a community, as individuals never lose sight of this fact. That in even the darkest of times there lies the glimmer of hope.

“The earth was null (tohu) and void (vohu), and there was darkness upon the face of the deep, and the spirit of God hovered above the water. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that (it was) good.”

© 2005 Rabbi David Burstein