The terrible events of 11 September raise yet again the perennial ques­tion of how we are to understand awful acts of providence. How are we to understand the hijacking of four planes and the willful and deliberate destruction of human life as the two tow­ers of World Trade Centre in New York and then the Pentagon itself were devas­tated, with thousands of lives lost?

The question is not just how could 18 men armed with knives inflict such dam­age on the most powerful nation on earth? Rather, the question is, what was God — who is totally good and absolutely sovereign — doing on 11 September? Some might guess that he was punishing those who lost their lives, or that he was testing his people. Or perhaps he is chastening us.

Jesus raises these issues in Luke 13:1-5 where he deals with two disasters in his own day — one man-made, in that Pilate massacred some Galileans who were offering sacrifices, and the other “nat­ural”, when a tower in Siloam fell down and killed 18 people. Christ draws some helpful lessons from such events.

First, disasters do not prove specific guilt. Some Galileans were apparently sac­rificing down at Jerusalem, and there was some kind of disturbance. Pilate probably overreacted, as he was wont to do, and called in the troops. The result was that a number of Galileans lost their lives. The second incident concerned what from the human perspective would be termed an accident.

In both cases our Lord clearly and specifically denies that the Galileans who were killed by Pilate’s troops or the 18 who perished under the fallen tower were any worse than other sinners of the time. Jesus is not referring to Pilate’s guilt in the killing of the Galileans, but to the guilt or otherwise of those who perished.

Of course, there is a general connection between suffering and sin in that Adam’s sin has led to our suffering and death. Job’s friends wanted to make a more direct connection. Hence Eliphaz asks (Job 4:7): “Remember now, whoever perished being innocent? Or where were the upright ever cut off?” Later he is more specific, and works backwards on the basis of Job’s intense suffering that he must have been thoroughly wicked, guilty of oppressing the poor and lacking any human compassion (Job 22:5-10).

Jesus’ own disciples made the same error when they saw the man borne blind and asked: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents?” (John 9:2). Jesus rejects the question, and answers “neither” — not meaning that the man and/or his parents were sinless, but that neither was being specifically punished for sin.

People tend to think there is no smoke without fire, and no suffering without sin. It is all too true that some suffering is a direct punishment of sin — the hangover fol­lows the bout of drunkenness, AIDS may result from a homosexual lifestyle, or our pride may leave us friendless. But the connection is not automatic and guaranteed.

Second, disasters nevertheless point to judgment. Our Lord tells his hearers that unless they repent they too would all per­ish. Every disaster — whether a car crash, a heart attack or this recent terrorist attack — should remind us of our mortality. At best, life is a vapour that appears for a lit­tle time and then vanishes away (James 4:14).

I heard one of these modern coun­selling gurus on television recently. She criticised American schoolteachers for not talking about the terrorist attack with their students. She was then asked what would she say to the children if she were a teacher. She said that she would reassure them that they were safe and secure. One would think that even an immature mind with limited experience of life would be able to see through such platitudes. Our expert counsellor surely knew that children have been killed in recent acts of terror, not least in American schools.

My mother groan’d, my father wept; Into the dangerous world I leapt. So wrote William Blake of his birth, and it is a sen­timent which is rather closer to reality than the delusory comfort offered by our counsellor. We can find no true peace and safety in this world but only in Christ who has overcome the world (John 16:33).

Third, disasters demonstrate that we all need to repent. Philip Henry (Matthew’s father) once said that if he died in the pul­pit, he would like to die preaching repen­tance, and if he died out of the pulpit, he would like to die practising it. This is the language of the true Christian. It runs all through Psalm 51 from King David. We find it too in the preaching of Peter (Acts 3:19) and of Paul (Acts 20:21; 26:19-20).

Something as terrible as the events of 11 September should cause us to reflect on our lives — on our selfishness, our neglect of God, our lack of concern for others, our distorted priorities, our failures in every area of life. This is a time to face the realities of life and death in God’s world. The events of 11 September do not prove specific guilt but are a reminder to us all of a yet greater judgment.

No one put this better than Augustine:

If punishment were obviously inflicted on every wrongdoing in this life, it would be supposed that nothing was reserved for the last judgment; on the other hand, if God’s power never openly punished any sin in this world, there would be an end to belief in providence.

If these lessons are not to be lost on us, we must bow before the mystery of providence, and repent before the mercy seat of Christ.