Nudging #98 - July 15 "What Now?"
July 15, 2025
What Now?
“Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no.” (Luke 13:4–5, NIV)
Tragedy happens. We live in a world where car accidents steal lives, wars rage, and society fractures under the weight of conflict. These things grieve us deeply. And yet, in a broken world, where sorrow makes the news every day, we grow used to it—maybe even a little numb.
But then something happens that stops us cold. Something that feels unbearably wrong. Like twenty-seven young lives, taken in an instant—swept away by floodwaters at a church camp. And we’re left stunned. Reaching for words. And we find ourselves asking the age-old question: Why?
Jesus once pointed to a tragedy—a tower in Siloam that collapsed and killed eighteen people. The people of His day wanted to understand why. Was it punishment? Did the victims somehow deserve it? Jesus didn’t give them an explanation. He gave them an invitation. “Do you think they were worse sinners? I tell you, no. But unless you repent…”
It may sound severe—even insensitive—but what He was doing was gently shifting the question: from Why? to What now? He was helping them see that tragedy seldom comes with a reason. Yet it always comes with a reminder—life is fragile, and our hope was never meant to rest in this world.
There’s a scene in John 11 where Jesus stands at the tomb of His friend Lazarus. He knows resurrection is coming—yet still, He weeps. But before that moment, John tells us that Jesus was “deeply moved.” The Greek word used there—embrimaomai—means a deep, guttural groaning. Anguish. Rage. Not passive sorrow, but a holy fury—directed at death itself. At the ruin and sorrow. Because this is not how it was meant to be.
God created a world of love and free choice. He didn’t create tragedy. Sin and brokenness did that. And the Enemy has had a heyday with it ever since. But Jesus came to end that reign. That’s why He stood at Lazarus’ grave. And it’s why He willingly walked toward His own. Not to escape death—but to defeat it.
He saw the grief of Mary and Martha. The tower in Siloam. The hospital waiting room. The empty crib. The centuries of names etched in tombstones. And… He saw Camp Mystic.
He went to the cross to undo it all.
The Enemy thought death would finish us. But Jesus walked straight into the grave—and walked out again. Alive. Yet for now, even that doesn’t erase the pain. We still grieve. And the question of “why” still haunts us. But we can know this: the One who wept and groaned and raged is redeeming. Jesus is not far off. He is near. He is with us.
So—“what now?” We pray… for those who have lost the ones they love… and for ourselves, that we would hold fast to faith and not be overcome by the temptation to doubt God’s goodness.
And we hope and trust in Jesus—the One who will make all things new.