The recent natural disasters of Hurricane Harvey, Irma and Maria coupled with the devastating Earthquake in Mexico and now followed up with relentless wildfires in California got me thinking about a follow-up to my column several months ago about “stuff.”
Thinking about anything material after these terrible storms almost seems trivial. Especially when you consider that you are watching all these awful scenes from the comfort of your home where your stuff is all there and still intact. And honestly, it’s all too easy to put off reflecting on what should be important when you have a home full of all the necessities, comforts and symbols of a life being lived.
And sure, we say prayers and contribute money to help ease the sufferings of others but is that enough, really? I have always been taught and absolutely believe that in every tragedy, every mistake or mishap, there is a lesson to be learned — not necessarily for those directly involved, but for everyone that shares in knowing of it.
I thought most deeply about this as I listened to the radio recently and heard the story of a woman who returned to the location of what had been her home in California. She described the scene to her radio interviewer.
“Our home … gone. I couldn’t believe the destruction. The structure is gone, everything. All our memories are just gone,” she said as she took breaths to control her anguish.
I felt such pain listening to her and imagining what it must be like for her. And I thought where the lesson might be.
I started thinking about what it was like to see the rubble left behind by the hurricanes in the Caribbean when I traveled there years ago. And I remember seeing residents sift through piles of debris hoping to find and possibly salvage any possession left behind by the tornado in Fairdale, Ill. I can remember the people being overwhelmed by the destruction and exhausted at the roller coaster of hope in finding this thing or that thing.
But listening to this victim of fire, there was more resignation and defeat in her story. It is certainly hard to imagine that the only trace of home would be ashes and soot. Nothing spared, nothing left to find.
Without minimizing and dismissing the plight of these fire victims, I must admit I was greatly distressed when I heard the woman say her memories were gone. Of course the material vestiges of memories were gone; things like photos, trophies, gifts, family items passed down, antiques and heirlooms but the real and important stuff that memories are made of still remain.
Her family and her pets were safe. So the memories are still within her and the people she shares her life with. Memories aren’t solely dependent on the stuff that represents them.
And so that begs the question, what do we really consider to be important stuff? What does our stuff consist of? Do we collect things? Do we cling to routines and habits? What really owns us? Is it our acquisition of things and experiences that compel us?
The Gospels talk plenty about all of this. Yet sometimes it takes a terrible moment or report to shock us into really internalizing what the Gospels try to tell us about letting our stuff take ownership of our minds and our hearts. And sometimes we don’t let go of our mental and spiritual stuff until a medical crisis comes along and it forces us to change our habits and forget the grudges that hold us captive.
Perhaps these recent terrible events can help us not only be one with these victims in our prayers and in our recent financial contributions, but also to allow those misfortunes to snap us back into living our faith and thinking about the really important stuff. What we would have if we had nothing at all?
Will we be able to pass seamlessly into the kingdom of Heaven or will we get stuck in the entrance trying to drag our garage and our grudges in with us?
Special thanks to all who have contributed much needed funds to all our brothers and sisters in need as a result of the natural disasters.