History has shaped what construction requires in states like California. Engineers call this seismic resilience.
Earthquakes are inevitable. They have happened. They do happen. And they will happen. So the question is: what will we do to prepare for—and then survive—them? Talented and experienced technicians design and build with these objectives in mind. Notice: the strategy is not to avoid earthquakes, but to be resilient through them.
In many ways, this sounds like the very approach Jesus took as He instructed His disciples.
“Here on
earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have
overcome the world.”
—John 16:33 (NLT)
Yes, you will have earthquakes. All of civilization is laced with fault lines. Even creation is. So, a strategy of avoiding catastrophe is both foolish and impossible.
The approach Jesus commends, prays for, and directs is—His Church. In fact, He tells His disciples that even the earthquakes experienced at the gates of hell are no match for His Church. This is why Jesus prayed for unity in John 17. Not for inoculation or relocation, but for durability through trials, in community. Because of community.
In community, we can’t solve the problem of evil—but we can survive it.
In community, we can’t change the amount of rain that falls, or the rivers that swell—but we can act courageously and respond compassionately, together.
In community, we can’t change a frightening diagnosis—but we can surround, pray, love, and support.
In community, we can’t accumulate enough weapons to combat evil—but we can speak up for those without a voice, defend the cause of the vulnerable, and live and love generously.
Sacrificially.
Seismic resilience is precisely what Jesus provides—and with no building code required. He knows, because He experienced the most profound injustice in human history.
At His death, His followers scattered. But in their grief, they came together. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps without hope. Or maybe because the relational muscle memory that Jesus had instilled in them had developed and grown. And when hope rose from the grave, so did their commitment to live out the prayer of Jesus. Acts 2 shows us unity—with diversity. The Church.
Pain doesn’t disappear. Instead, it is surrounded.
Isolation compounds tragedy and evil. But community answers pain with comfort—not with clichés, not with dismissal, but with a chorus of tears. An orchestra of grief. Never trivializing or spiritualizing what cannot be answered, but embracing the with-ness of Christ and the shared community of faith.
Seismic resilience.
Not because we have the answers,
but because we have each other.
This is the sacred gift that Jesus prayed for.
That He showed us.
That He commands us to be.
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