I wrote this column in
2011, when I still worked downtown.
Every
weekday morning, when I go to work, I am confronted by the mystery of life.
My
life, to be precise.
It
happens when I get off the bus downtown and pass by the Titanic posters at the
MTS Centre Exhibition Hall.
For
many, the photos of the great ship are just that: photos. For me, it prompts a
deeper question: Why am I alive?
It's
not an academic exercise; if not for a missed reservation for passage on the
doomed ship, I might not be alive today.
The
story goes like this. In 1911, my grandfather, also named John Longhurst,
emigrated from England to Canada. Like many other emigrants starting a new life
in a new country, he left behind his fiancée, Alice Bond—my grandmother.
The
plan was for him to become established in Canada, then return to England so
they could marry.
Early
in 1912, he came back and they were married. Apparently, John was a bit of a
romantic; he wanted to do something special for his new bride. And what could
be more special than booking a honeymoon passage on the maiden voyage of the
Titanic?
But
he was too late; the ship was full. Instead, he made a reservation on the SS
Megantic, arriving in Quebec City six weeks later.
 |
| Passenger list from the Megantic, June 4, 1912; John & Alice Longhurst are 6th & 7th from the bottom. |
Had
he been in time to book passage on the Titanic, it is likely that one, or both,
would have died.
Because
of a missed reservation, I am alive.
When
it comes to averted tragedy, most people don't have a story as dramatic as the
Titanic. But everyone can recall near misses of one sort or another, times when
the course of our lives could have been completely altered, or ended.
When
that happens, many people offer thanks to God, Allah, Jehovah, their lucky
stars or whatever universal power they believe in.
But
sometimes another thought creeps in: Did a higher power really help us avoid
that tragedy? Was it all planned to happen that way, right from the beginning?
Or was it just luck or blind chance?
In
my case, did God know the Titanic was going to sink, and so prevented my
grandfather from getting a ticket on the doomed ship? Did he have a plan that
involved not only John and Alice, but also my father, myself and my kids—all the
way down the line?
And
if that's the case, why did he keep John and Alice off the doomed liner, but
allow so many others to sail away to their deaths?
Those
are big questions on weekday mornings, especially before the first cup of
coffee. And I'm not sure I have good answers.
One
person who has given this a lot of thought is Bruce Epperly, a process
theologian and author of the book Process
Theology: A Guide for the Perplexed.
In
a nutshell, process theologians like Epperly believe God does not, and cannot,
fully determine the experience of any person on the planet.
In
this view, God does not determine the most important details of our lives. Instead,
the future is as open for God as it is for us; neither knows exactly what will
happen next.
For
Epperly, this doesn't diminish God. Instead, it makes God "more alive,
creative, and active than a God who has chosen the future in its entirety. A
God to whom new things happen can respond to our prayers in ways that make a
difference, operating within the causal relationships of the natural
world."
This
is an "open-source, open-system vision of the universe in which God and
the world exist in a dynamic, growing and evolving partnership," he adds.
If
Epperly is right, this means God didn't ordain for the Titanic to hit an
iceberg and sink that terrible night in April 1912.
He
didn't plan for John and Alice not to be able to get passage on the liner, nor
for all those people to die.
God
may not even have known the ship would sink at all.
Epperly's
view is not conventional. But it's catching on as more Christians wrestle with
the issue of suffering and pain in the world.
Is
everything preordained, from beginning to end? Or are we, in Epperly's words,
engaged in a dynamic relationship with God where we both react to events, both
good and bad?
I
certainly don't have answers to those questions. All I know is when I get off
the bus each morning and see those photos of the doomed ship, I face a mystery
of Titanic proportions.
From the July 23, 2011 Winnipeg Free Press.
