The Bridge

The readings for this week have been intersected by daily life in a very real and horrific way with the collapse of the I35 bridge in downtown Minneapolis. Jesus' words from the gospel of Luke hit us in a different, more tender spot than usual:

"But God said to him, "You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.
And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?"

One minute you're on the highway, headed home from a long day at work, thinking about dinner and what's on the tube tonight--the next the highway is literally pulled out from under you and you plunge into the Mississippi, a casualty of structural failure. Simple physics - engineering with a constant that has changed--changed to the point of bringing down the whole equation in one partially submerged, fiery, rebar- jutting mess. As we've told ourselves a million times--after Virginia Tech, after Katrina, after 9/11--life really is fragile, and you don't know when you're going to die.

But to my way of thinking, this is less a reminder to live life to the fullest, or to make a difference in life, or even to not take life for granted. And neither is it a comment on the futility of life. For me, the juxtaposition of this scripture and this disaster points directly to a God who knows life can stink and be unfair and perversely cruel, but whose greatest desire is that we live in him so that occurrences such as these do not define us or our lives.

Instead it is God who defines us. They are not the ones killed in a horrendous bridge collapse. You are not the one with cancer. I am not the one who is old, lonely, imprisoned, tired, sick, depressed, or downtrodden. We are all the children of God. Made so by the cross of Christ. Loved for no better reason than "because." God isn't the aloof demander of life, dealer of death. God is the faithful source of life, even after death--in whom we can put our trust. And God invites us to live life in that reality, loving others, sharing our resources, and acting justly in the world.

Life is fragile. But it is never meaningless--not even when it ends so tragically. "I am the life," said the Messiah. "You are mine," says God. That means everything.