By now, most of us are aware of the story of the Titan submersible carrying a host of millionaires that has imploded off the wreck of the Titanic. What appalls me, however, is how people are responding.
The heart of this issue is not that they were millionaires— it’s that several families are grieving the loss of their loved ones to a horrific death (whether or not it was instantaneous is of little comfort) and yet society says; who cares?
Do you know who cares? The obvious answer is their families, friends, those they spend time with. Jesus cares, too. Do you know who else should care?
“Weep with those who weep”, (Romans 12:15b), and in Philippians 2 we are called to be servant minded towards others, to have compassion on them. We should care, yet our hearts are not aligned to the Truth and the Maker of Compassion. We don’t know what their lives were like— were they truly corrupt? Were they licentious or mean? Did they beat their wives or abuse their children? Or perhaps, were they kind-hearted and wise in leadership? Did they spend years building their companies from the ground up? Did they start from rock bottom? Were they still human beings worthy of life and love despite their circumstances, able to seek forgiveness by a humble Savior?
I wonder what their final conversation was, if they knew their end was near or if, like a snap, their lives were snuffed out before the realization hit them. Did they pray? Were they afraid, begging for their lives? Did they make any promises on how they would change once above the water? We may never truly know the answer, but one thing is for sure: spouses, children, mothers, extended family, friends— all are asking these questions. Instead of turning their grief into a carnival, we need to pray for these devastated families. Their hearts hurt, just as the Lord’s hurts for them. If anything, remember that we as Christians have a higher calling on our lives than the rest of the world. “Love the world but do not be of it”.
Be encouraged today, my friends, and know that this road we walk gets narrower and narrower, yet has a glorious end.
A. L. Bowker