After the New Zealand quake: How can I help?
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
Who am I to think that I can do anything to help those in New Zealand? That question taunted me during the night and into the next morning, after learning about the earthquake in Christchurch on February 22. This mocking question stymied me and became an obstacle to effective prayer.
In the midst of an all-day meeting that Tuesday, I received an e-mail from a friend whose daughter lives in New Zealand. She was letting a group of us know that her daughter got out of her flat safely, despite its being surrounded by rubble following the earthquake. The e-mail to her group of friends also included an acknowledgment that we would include her daughter, and all New Zealand, in our prayers. Even during the meeting I was in, I began silently praying. At that moment, these words from Hymn 86 from the Christian Science Hymnal flooded my consciousness: “God is on the field, although / He seems invisible.” I sent my friend a note of comfort with this quotation.
These particular words seemed a message sent from God for my friend. They are the same words that had come to me just before turning out the lights and going to sleep on September 10, 2001. I had clung to their promise for the next several days as I tried to pray my way clear of the fear, anger, confusion, and myriad emotions that swept over me, my city, my nation, and the world, in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks of September 11. Events like these challenge our faith and spiritual resolve. They raise the question “Where is God?”
Pray for every member of God’s universal family.
“God is on the field, although / He seems invisible.” I found these simple words to be a starting place for my prayer for New Zealand. They offered a springboard for affirming that God is always there, always caring for His children. They encouraged me to know that we can see evidence of this care as we look beyond struggling human existence to the spiritual view of life. This view is always harmonious, peaceful, and secure. It is God’s view—the only true and lasting view. And our prayers to assume this view do yield tangible results. For example, rescue workers can be inspired and those needing assistance can be led to safety.
Still, hearing the news reports about New Zealand that evening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was not doing enough. I realized that, more than anything, I felt inadequate to respond—not up to the task. That’s when the question came, Who am I to think that I can help?
On the heels of that question came an answer from Pulpit and Press by Mary Baker Eddy:
Perchance some one of you may say, “The evidence of spiritual verity in me is so small that I am afraid. I feel so far from victory over the flesh that to reach out for a present realization of my hope savors of temerity. Because of my own unfitness for such a spiritual animus my strength is naught and my faith fails.”. . .
“What if the little rain should say,
'So small a drop as I
Can ne'er refresh a drooping earth,
I'll tarry in the sky.’ "
… A dewdrop reflects the sun. Each of Christ's little ones reflects the infinite One, and therefore is the seer's declaration true, that “one on God’s side is a majority.” (pp. 3-4)
Strengthened by this, filled with renewed hope and determination, I know I can pray for my brothers and sisters around the globe. I can confidently acknowledge God’s love and presence everywhere, at every moment. I can insist on seeing only the harmony and good that God sees. From this higher viewpoint, I can expect comfort and recovery to come quickly and specifically to those in need in New Zealand. And I can continue to pray in this way, today and for days to come—not only for those in New Zealand, but for every member of God’s universal family. And so can we all.