Out With Thomas: God's ways

Friday, Oct. 02, 2015

I’m a little miffed at God just now. He let my mother’s car get stolen, right out from in front of the condo. The doors were locked and a steering wheel lock was in place, but the thief still took it. 

Isn’t God supposed to protect little old ladies from such nefarious deeds? Especially one who had spent the day before helping out at the Carmelite Fair, and who volunteers each week at the St. Martha’s Baby Project, and who regularly serves as a lector at her parish? Doesn’t the Bible say “even when your head is gray I will bear you; it is I who have done this, I who will continue, and I who will carry you to safety”? 

Of course, Scripture also calls us humans to honor the aged, which the thief obviously didn’t. I don’t think he or she cared that the victim is a senior citizen on a fixed income, and car payments certainly aren’t in the budget. Nor will the insurance cover the cost of replacing the vehicle; it was 20 years old.

My understanding is that the chances of recovering the car are next to nil: It’s a Honda Accord, which tops the list of the most frequently stolen models. The car was probably stripped for parts within hours of being stolen.

So I’m angry with God for letting this happen to my mom. She needs the car: There’s no convenient public transportation from the condo to the church or the grocery store, which are her most frequent destinations, and they’re not within walking distance, either.

As I was berating God about his lack of care of my mother, he pointed out that the responsibility for the action belonged to the thief. OK, I said, so why didn’t you stop him or her? Because of the gift of free will, which has led to grief ever since the Garden of Eden? I do blame the thief, but we’ve already established that he or she wasn’t concerned about breaking the Seventh Commandment, nor about the victim of the crime, whereas God is supposed to tenderly care for all of his creation. 

Which leads me to the conclusion that if God had prevented the thief from stealing the car, he would have been interfering with the thief’s free will.  (I wish a theologian were handy to discuss why allowing free will is more important than protecting the innocent, but for now I’m going to grudgingly concede that once again God’s argument trumps my own.)

All the same, if God didn’t protect the car because he preferred not to obstruct the thief’s free will, the least he could have done was let my mother win the Kia Soul that was raffled off at the Carmelite Fair so she’d have transportation, even though she still would have had to deal with the emotional wounds of being a victim.

Now comes the “God works in mysterious ways” part of this incident: Four days after the theft, as I was writing this column – literally as I was typing the fifth paragraph – my mother called to tell me that the police recovered the car about ten miles from the condo. The dashboard is damaged, but the car is drivable.  

“Oh,” I said. “Thank God.”

After hanging up, I wondered why God put us through all that turmoil if the situation was going to be resolved so easily. I suspect he might have been reminding me that he is worthy of my complete trust in all matters, great and small. I hear what he’s saying, but I confess I’m having trouble putting it into practice.