What if it took a disaster to reveal the best in all of us? Reflecting on the recent devastation of Hurricane Beryl in Texas, we compare it to the unforgettable impacts of Hurricane Katrina in 2005. This episode delves into the profound ways crises shape human behavior and ignite extraordinary acts of selflessness and unity. Hear vivid recollections of diverse communities transcending their differences to support each other amidst chaos. We question why such extreme situations seem necessary to bring out our finest qualities and emphasize the importance of maintaining this spirit of compassion and community in our everyday lives.
Why do people come together so powerfully during crises only to drift apart afterward? We explore this phenomenon, considering the survival-driven, perhaps divine, force that unites us in times of need. Symbolized by the guiding presence of Jesus, this sense of existential survivorship brings out a collective unity. Yet, once the crisis subsides, we often revert to our individualistic tendencies. This episode calls for a global recognition of our interconnectedness, urging us to sustain this unity and shared purpose beyond moments of disaster, transcending national and cultural boundaries to create a more compassionate world.
What if it took a disaster to reveal the best in all of us? Reflecting on the recent devastation of Hurricane Beryl in Texas, we compare it to the unforgettable impacts of Hurricane Katrina in 2005. This episode delves into the profound ways crises shape human behavior and ignite extraordinary acts of selflessness and unity. Hear vivid recollections of diverse communities transcending their differences to support each other amidst chaos. We question why such extreme situations seem necessary to bring out our finest qualities and emphasize the importance of maintaining this spirit of compassion and community in our everyday lives.
Why do people come together so powerfully during crises only to drift apart afterward? We explore this phenomenon, considering the survival-driven, perhaps divine, force that unites us in times of need. Symbolized by the guiding presence of Jesus, this sense of existential survivorship brings out a collective unity. Yet, once the crisis subsides, we often revert to our individualistic tendencies. This episode calls for a global recognition of our interconnectedness, urging us to sustain this unity and shared purpose beyond moments of disaster, transcending national and cultural boundaries to create a more compassionate world.
Speaker 1:
Welcome and greetings to you. Today I want to talk about crisis community. What I mean is how we treat each other in the midst of a crisis versus how we treat each other on normal days. Just a couple of months ago, hurricane Beryl broke ground in Texas. I can't confirm how many people were injured or died from the hurricane or its total effects yet, but what I do know at this point is that recently, reuters was already reporting that insurance damages were in the range of 2.7 million dollars or so and growing. Let's compare that with Hurricane Katrina In 2005,.
Speaker 1:
Hurricane Katrina was one of the worst hurricanes that we've seen in a long time and caused massive devastation in its literal wake. Approximately 1,800 plus people died. Damages ranged from $108 to $160 billion. That's roughly a 55 times increase in damages from Hurricane Beryl recently. The storm surges for Katrina ranged from 25 to 28 feet above the normal tidal levels along the Mississippi coast and 10 to 20 feet along the coast of Louisiana. Along the Mississippi coast and 10 to 20 feet along the coast of Louisiana, there were at least 33 resulting tornadoes, causing untold amounts of damages, injuries and deaths. Eighty percent of the city of New Orleans was submerged underwater for weeks. Approximately one million people were displaced, many of whom never went back. Thousands of homes and businesses and jobs were lost, and the damage to the agricultural industry there is immeasurable. The bottom line is that it's ranked as the costliest natural disaster in recorded US history. I share these statistics so that you can understand the magnitude of how far-reaching that natural disaster was. It's now 2024, and we're still feeling some of the effects of that hurricane, as well as many others, like Sandy Irene. Many people have never returned to those locations and many businesses closed for good. And I'm sure that the cost of Katrina and the other hurricane disasters are still being felt because, as we all know, the government likes to spread out their costs over time. Because, as we all know, the government likes to spread out their costs over time. And, of course, the hurricanes haven't stopped. We've had some small and medium and large ones as well. Many people in those terrible events were forced to give up their property, whether they wanted to or not. They were forced to let go of their possessions and were somewhat forced into situations where they had to rely on others to help them. It was almost as if Mother Nature forced them into an Acts 2, 42-47 way of being and living if they wanted to survive.
Speaker 1:
I remember Hurricane Katrina as much as I remember 9-11. I remember watching on TV as elderly people sat on their roofs with their beloved animals waiting for rescue. I remember the overcrowded Superdome which had become a makeshift rescue and living shelter. I remember neighbors in makeshift boats roaming the water-filled streets looking for anyone they could help. I remember seeing cars and houses floating down the streets and I remember just how aghast we all were at the devastation such a storm could produce. I remember white men with Nazi tattoos helping their black neighbors off their roofs. I remember chauvinistic men helping women and the elderly into the boats to bring them to safety. I remember church folk helping their gay and lesbian neighbors. I remember bikers rescuing puppies and cats and wildlife to help reunite them with their owners or with their parents in nature.
Speaker 1:
I remember Muslim and Jewish people offering solace and shoulders to cry on because the people they were ministering to had lost their children, parents, spouses and siblings in front of their eyes and outstretched hands. They were horrified that they couldn't do anything to rescue them and were forced to make a choice between themselves and the people they had already saved versus those who were literally sinking and they couldn't reach them without also putting themselves in danger. But what I remember most of all was how we all put aside all our differences, all our arguments, all our politics, all our nationalistic viewpoints, all our cultures and our religious duties, and we had an awakening of something that we had long forgotten our shared humanity. We remembered that we were all human. We remembered that we all have loved ones and pets that were affected in one way or another. We remembered our neighbor who was suffering from cancer and had just gotten home from the treatment center and was vomiting from the chemo and could barely get up the steps to get to a place of safety. We remembered the man down the street who had lost his wife the year before and had been a shut-in ever since. We remembered the children who were in foster care and in orphanages and were looking for their caregivers, who had gone to help others and never came back. We remembered our environment and how powerful it is. We remembered how important our necessities really are and how superfluous our stuff really is, and how superfluous our stuff really is.
Speaker 1:
What we ultimately remembered, or, as I like to say, re-membered, was each other. We came together, we brought ourselves together, we membered ourselves and we did it all over again. We remembered each other. We united, as it were, or re-united. We united again, and that's great, but more importantly is what we forgot.
Speaker 1:
We forgot the color of our skin. We forgot what countries we came from or represented. We forgot our political differences. We forgot our religious traditions and institutions. We forgot who was living in our house and who we were having sex with. We forgot gender. We forgot everything except human survival and, ultimately, the most important thing that we forgot was that we hated each other. We forgot everything that removed or separated us from our common humanity.
Speaker 1:
Moved or separated us from our common humanity Isn't that kind of what the word community is? It's common humanity. And for a brief period of time weeks and months to us, but in the scheme of things, a blip on the screen we acted like we are supposed to all along, and it's been that way for every natural disaster we've ever experienced Tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, forest fires, even events not having to do with Mother Nature have brought us together in this same way. Never forget 9-11. And if we remember that in America, what should we do to remember those who are in war-torn areas that have been at war for more decades than we have been alive. Unfortunately, and all too quickly, we forget what we forgot and return to our old ways. Let's bring this down a little closer to home. It's a microcosm of that same thing. Haven't we done the same thing with personal crises, like deaths in the family or house fires? In more minor, yet no less devastating crises, we do the same thing. We come together as a community when a beloved member dies. We come together when a local catastrophe happens, but then, after a time, we go back to the way things were.
Speaker 1:
I live in a small town. Its population is about 6,025 adults at max. My father-in-law was a principal. He was my principal and my high school guidance counselor and our beloved mayor for many years. He died. The community response was tremendous. The community united to support my mother-in-law in ways I could never imagine. They came to help my wife on social media, including personal words of encouragement that I will never forget. We always seem to band together when it matters.
Speaker 1:
What am I after here? We've been talking about community in the last few episodes. What does that look like in this day and age? What would it look like if Jesus was here dealing with all that we have to deal with. What would community mean if he were in charge of every small or large community? How can we foster that sense of community when the stakes aren't so high and a crisis is not involved? Why can't we, all of us in the world the US, canada, the Middle East and the South, etc. Function and live and relate to one another as we do during a crisis? Ultimately, that's the call for the church as the first fruits and to be the example to the rest of the world and the rest of the world following the church. I think that's how we're supposed to live all the time, as if everyone and everything mattered, whether in a crisis or not. As a side note, jesus is still here. He may not be in bodily form, but he lives in you and in me, and he would act towards others the way that we act towards others when we're in a crisis. Why do we always let things divide us? Why do we let politics and religious beliefs and family arguments or our decision to go vegan cause us to be divided from others? Why do we return to the same old divisions and arguments and behaviors when the crisis ends?
Speaker 1:
I was listening to a podcast recently called Rethinking God with Tacos Love. The name the host is Jason Clark. He had a co-host whom, apologetically, I can't remember her name, and they had a guest speaker on that episode that I was listening to. His name is Ian Simpkins. In that episode, the guest made a statement that has resonated with me every day since then. Made a statement that has resonated with me every day since then.
Speaker 1:
We don't know how to be in community when we disagree. Somehow our culture has turned every disagreement into an argument with no resolution. We've turned every contention into a point of separation. We've turned every contention into a point of separation. We've turned every dispute into a polarized hatred for one another, when the dispute might not even be that big of a deal. We have turned every debate into a reason to abandon each other in favor of self-preservation. We have lost the art of loving debate and discussion, but remaining connected and in community even when we disagree. We've lost that.
Speaker 1:
Why do we do this? Why do we come together in crisis but then, like boxers in a boxing ring, go back into our corners after the crisis is over? I believe there are a few reasons, probably many more than I'm about to describe. First, when a crisis happens, we all have a shared agreement. It's an unspoken agreement, it's an unconscious agreement. That agreement is survival. Somewhere deep inside of us we have the knowing of existential survivorship. We can all put aside our differences and all that means to come together for the mutual survival of all. When it matters. Deep down, we know that everyone is our brother and sister and, no matter how opinionated we might be, no matter what views we might ultimately hold, we know that we are all the same family and we all matter, and our survival as a human race is ingrained in our DNA, our collective DNA. Secondly, I believe that Jesus in all of us comes out during a crisis, and maybe we don't always realize it, maybe we don't always recognize it, but this is when Jesus takes the wheel and brings order to chaos. Jesus takes over in as much as we will allow him, and it's almost like we have become someone else. And the Jesus in me attracts the Jesus in you. And during a crisis, when Jesus is really at work, whether we see or acknowledge him or not, jesus attracts the Jesus in everyone else and we finally come together. But when the crisis is over and we put Jesus back on the shelf, we return to our old ways.
Speaker 1:
Have you ever been in a crisis where your instincts take over, you follow your gut on what to do and you feel as if you weren't even there, except as a spectator? I have, and I know that it wasn't me and it was me operating at that moment. Simultaneously, have you ever been in the unfortunate or fortunate, depending on the situation casualty such as a victim of a whitewater rafting, or an event or a situation where you could not control the outcome, but you survived just the same? Did you feel a sense that you were not yourself, that you were there and functioning but were more a spectator than a participant, that you were not in your own body? Those are the moments when I believe Jesus has stepped in and directed the events and outcomes. Even though there was some damage and devastation, there would have been more had Jesus not intervened. There would have been more if the Jesus in us had not stepped into our reality and handled the situation. And in the midst of that, we had no idea Jesus was even there, and the reason that any devastation even occurred was because of our human nature, not because God allowed it, but because we did so.
Speaker 1:
What do we do?
Speaker 1:
How do we get hold of this thing called life?
Speaker 1:
How do we as a people not just this nation, but worldwide how do we come into agreement that our existential survivorship is way more important than any one dream, any one ambition, any one dream, any one ambition, any one national goal? When will we finally realize that we are all one people, and not just in the United States, which I don't believe is united anymore, but in Canada, new Zealand, in native indigenous cultures, africa or anywhere else in the world? It doesn't matter where you live, what you call yourself, what nationality you claim or what language you speak. We are all the same and we need to start acting like it. What do you say? Can you join me in this crusade? That we are all the same, that we all have equal value, that we all are here for the same reason? Will you join me? Will you join me? I'll finish with this why can't we live and treat each other in everyday life like we do when there is a crisis at hand? Isn't that how we're supposed to truly live everyday anyway?
