There is a viacrucis of suffering in never ending locations in the small, poor country of Haiti. Suffering of the body, the soul, the heart, of the mind, assaulted by phantoms of panic and death. There is also much suffering in all human beings who have not lost the minimum sense of humanity and solidarity. From this universal compassion a mysterious community is born that overcomes differences, religions, ideologies that separated and divided us before. Now there is only the common humanitas, so absurdly mistreated, that must be nourished.

We also die a little with each Haitian who suffers under the debris or who dies of thirst or hunger. In the end we are all brothers and sisters of the one and only family. How can we not suffer?

But there is also a profound and heartbreaking suffering by the persons of faith who proclaim that God is Father and Mother of goodness and love. How to continue believing? Plaintively we ask: «Where were you, God, when that earthquake occurred that decimated your sons and daughters, the poorest and most long-suffering of any in the West? Why didn't you intervene? Aren't you the Creator of the Earth with her continents and her tectonic plates? Aren't you Father and Mother of tenderness, especially of those who are like your Son Jesus, the unjustly crucified of history?  Why?» 

This silence of God is terrifying, because there simply is no an answer. As much as geniuses such as Job, Buddha, Saint Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Leibniz worked out arguments to excuse God and to explain the pain, that did not cause the pain to disappear, or the tragedies to stop. To understand pain does not eliminate it, in much the same way that hearing talk about kitchen recipes does not eliminate hunger.

Jesus Himself was not exempt from anguish and suffering. From the height of the cross, He uttered a heart-breaking scream to heaven, crying: «My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?»

We agree with Job, who, irritated with his «friends» who wanted to explain to him the meaning of his pain, said: «You are no more than charlatans and false doctors: if at least you remained quiet, people would take you as wise.». But we cannot be silent. There is too much pain and the night is dark. We need some light.

Even without light, we continue believing, with our hearts broken, because we are convinced that chaos and tragedy cannot have the last word. God is powerful enough to bring forth good from evil, it is just that we can not know how. Filled with hope, we are certain of the possibility that our tears are not in vain. Moreover, we believe that God is that which we do not understand.  Above reason, that seeks explanations, is the mystery that asks for silence and reverence. God holds the secret meaning of all events, even of the tragic ones.

I join in the poem of the great Argentinean, Juan Gelman, who lost a son during the military repression:  
 
«Father,
come down from the heavens, I have forgotten
the prayers grandmother taught me,
poor little thing, she rests now,
she does not have to wash, clean up, she does not have to worry about going around all day gathering the clothes,
she does not have to keep vigil in the night, pain after pain, 
to pray, to beg you for things, to sweetly scold you. 
 
Descend from the heavens, if you are there, then come down, 
as I die of hunger in this corner, 
as I don't know if it is worth it to have been born, 
as I see my rejected hands,  
and there is no work, there is none,

come down a little, contemplate

this that I am, this worn

out shoe,  
this anguish, this empty stomach,
this city without bread to chew, the fever
destroying the flesh,
sleeping like this,
under the rain, punished by the cold, persecuted  
I tell You I don't understand, Father, come down,
touch my soul, look at
my heart,
I did not steal, I did not kill, I was a child
yet they beat me and beat me up,
I tell you I do not understand, Father, come down,
if you are there, I seek
resignation in myself and do not find it, and I will
become enraged and will sharpen the rage 
to beat and I will
shout a bloody scream
because I cannot take it anymore, I have guts
and I am a man,
come down, what have they made
of your creature, Father?
a furious animal
who chews the stone of the street?»  
 
That the Father may come down with His love to the Haitian people. (Translation Melina Alfaro, Refugio del Rio Grande, Texas, EE.UU.)

-  Leonardo Boff, Theologian, Earthcharter Commission