On November 1, 1755 at about 9:40 AM an earthquake centered near the Azores destroyed about 80% of the buildings in Lisbon, Portugal. November 1 is All Saints Day, so most of Lisbon's population was in church when the quake hit. No one knows exactly how many people died in the quake and the subsequent Tsunami and fires, but 20% of the population is a likely estimate.
Portugal was fortunate that it had a superior Prime Minister, who led the rebuilding of the capital and also wrote to every priest in every town surrounding Lisbon asking at what time the quake hit there and for their descriptions of the strength of the quake. The replies laid out on a map began the science of seismology. And modern seismologists studying these letters estimate that the quake may have been close in power to the one that hit Japan last week.
Some say the Lisbon quake was also the beginning of Europe's skepticism about God. How could God, at least a good God, allow such a thing to happen to people precisely when they were praying to Him?
The problem of evil is really two problems: Natural Evil or "Acts of God", as the insurance companies like to call it, and Human Evil. Both call up the question Jesus asked from the cross, "My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?" .
A Rabbi who was an expert on the Holocaust once said that we should not say anything about God that we could not say in the presence of burning children. I might add that words that can't be uttered on a beach filled with bodies that washed up to shore or in a city bombed by its own nation's planes probably isn't adequate either.
That leaves us preachers speechless.
In a sense, the Bible is speechless, too. The one person in the Bible who really engages in a dialogue with God on the problem of evil is Job and he finally says,
"No one can oppose you, because you have the power to do what you want. You asked why I talk so much when I know so little. I have talked about things that are far beyond my understanding". (Job 42:2-3; Contemporary English Version (CEV), © 1995 by American Bible Society)
Instead of words, the Bible gives us two images. One is in the first chapter of the Bible, in which God creates light and order and life out of chaos. Creation is always taking place on the edge of chaos. There is nothing deader than complete stability. God appears to work when people and history and geology and biology are in a state of change (Isn't that true in your own life?). So, green shoots begin to appear in the first rain after a forest fire; babies arrive in the delivery room down the street from the funeral home; and democracy (sometimes) rises from the dust of tyranny.
The other answer is in the image of the empty tomb. The empty tomb is a sign that the most unchangeable thing in the world - death - is changeable. Not even graves will last forever; to say nothing of dictatorships or continents. Not everyone will buy that - or certainly not understand it literally. But, frankly, if death does get the last word, then those who wield the power of death will reign forever and ever.
It's a little scary to live in a changing world. One expert points out that there were large earthquakes around the Pacific a couple of years before the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco. If, like me, you have loved ones on the West Coast, you don't want to hear that. But, what's the alternative? A world that is as unchanging as the grave. And, as I just said, the Easter story begins with a tomb that won't stay closed.
As one of the great preachers of the 20th century once said: