“Acts of God.” ​

When you sign those insurance forms, or really just about any contract, they indicate whose responsibilities are whose. And then they say, except for “acts of God.” These “acts of God” usually refer to unexpected unforeseen weather calamities – tornadoes, earthquakes, hurricanes, huge storms. I’ve always found it curious how otherwise secular documents feel comfort referring to “acts of God,” when it alleviates all parties from making something right.

Some of this is because wider society always wants someone or something to be responsible for things we don’t readily understand. And there is often comfort attributing mystery to God. 

I’ve never done well with mystery. I like to figure things out – and put them in outline order. I like to know how things work. I like explanations. Or at least ideas, theories and hypotheses. I prefer “It’s complicated,” to “I don’t know.” I can handle complexity. Tell me about it. Let’s hold the complexity and contradictions – but let’s know what they are. Of course, I’ve learned to live without certainty. I can function amid the general inexplicable inequities in life. 

In a season when the southern United States has experienced strong devastating hurricanes, I imagine insurance companies are calling them “acts of God.” We can blame the mystery of God for these storms. We can hold the many dynamics of climate change responsible. I’ve even heard stories about the vengeance of ancestors. These explanations are not simply right or wrong. But they still leave people of faith with big questions about where God is when we experience suffering, loss, grief and devastation. Did God cause this? Is God responsible? When some live and are “spared,” while others are not, is it because God loves or protects them more? 

In the midst of all this, I read a Facebook post by a former pastor. He was celebrating his anniversary of sobriety, discussing the camaraderie he experiences in AA, and offering companionship to anyone interested. As he shared his journey, he talked about his sobriety as a “Miracle with a capital M.” It made me think more about how we define not only inexplicable tragedy but also how we understand unexpected grace. His sobriety is an “act of God;” an act that involved God, Alcoholics Anonymous, his body, his own desires and supportive friends. In the emotional, spiritual and physical complexity that is addiction, this pastor friend felt that God got involved.

I have my own ideas about God’s role in inexplicable tragedies, but I do know some “acts of God” when I see them. They are the neighbors who help, the people sending money or shopping for others, the folk who pick up the shingles from torn apart roofs, the ones who house loved ones on their couches. It can be hard to find God in the storm, but I see “acts of God” after storms. I see how generous and unified humanity can become towards strangers because there is a sense that our destinies are intertwined. In an increasingly polarized world, this is where I see God most clearly. 

Dr. Monica