Out of the Ashes

Disasters have become a common part of our daily news. The son of a famous president dies in a plane crash off Martha's Vineyard, and millions watch with grim curiosity as divers search for his body in the wreckage and mourners prepare for his burial at sea. Killers take dozens of lives in a Colorado high school, an Atlanta office building, and a California Jewish center, and the nation grieves.

Years ago only the personal word of survivors and the rubble left behind bore testimony to the severity of mighty storms. But today, when tornadoes rip through suburban neighborhoods and hurricanes rearrange coastal villages, we can watch the entire drama on the evening news—from a storm's first blip on a meteorologist's radar screen to the cleanup efforts afterward.

There's nothing commonplace about a tragic event, though, when it happens to you or to someone you love. Consider Job, whose remarkably wide range of suffering serves as a microcosm of human tragedy. Devastating financial reverses? Job owned thousands of animals and had many servants who worked for him, but he lost them all. Fire and windstorms? Job lost much of his property and all of his 10 children to these sudden destroyers. Physical pain? Covered with sores all over his body, Job sat among the ashes trying vainly to relieve his misery by scraping himself with a piece of pottery. Spiritual pain? Faithful Job wondered why he was ever born and asked hard questions of God. "Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward," he concluded (Job 5:7).

But after 41 chapters of Job's soul-searching, his friends' advice-giving, and God's awe-inspiring response, the book ends on a positive note: "The Lord blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first" (42:12). As another biblical writer told the Lord, "We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance" (Psalm 66:12).

On Saturday night, July 18, lightning struck the base of the steeple at Northside Church of Christ in Newport News, Virginia. More than 100 firefighters responded to the resulting blaze, but they couldn't get the fire under control as it raged through the sanctuary and toppled colonial columns. The building was a total loss. "It looks like it was hit by a bomb," observers said. The minister of worship, Tom Goodlet, lost everything in his office—Bibles, sermon notes, computer equipment, family keepsakes, and original music compositions. As Tom puts it, "25 years of ministry up in flames."

Almost immediately, however, the congregation began the long process of moving forward. Members of the staff—with temporary offices in trailers—have been working together with zeal and determination, holding worship services and Bible studies in temporary facilities provided by neighboring churches. At a Wednesday evening service held four days after the fire, senior minister Larry Jones talked about "What's left: God's Word, God's family, our memories, and our mission." Everyone who came to the service received a charred piece of wood along with a note that said, "Fan the flame" (from 2 Timothy 1:6).

The night of the fire, TV news cameras caught the message that had been posted on a sign in front of the church building before the lightning struck: "God does not promise an easy journey, but a safe journey." The next day, someone changed the sign to read simply, "We're still on fire."