When the Waters Rise: Is God Trying to Tell Us Something?

Nepal is hurting.

Lives have been lost. Families have been separated. Homes, roads, bridges and livelihoods have been swept away. People who woke up expecting an ordinary day suddenly found themselves facing a force greater than anything human hands could control.

Before anything theological is said, compassion must come first.

We should pray for Nepal. We should pray for the families grieving, the people still searching for loved ones, the injured, the displaced, the rescuers and everyone wondering what tomorrow will bring.

But compassion does not prevent us from asking difficult questions.

And one of those questions is:

When events of this magnitude happen, should humanity only look at what happened physically—or should we also examine ourselves spiritually?

Nepal and a Land of Many Gods

Nepal is one of the most spiritually diverse places on Earth.

Hinduism and Buddhism have shaped its culture for centuries, alongside Christianity, Islam, indigenous traditions and other beliefs. Temples, shrines, rituals, sacred mountains and religious festivals form part of the country’s identity.

I do not write this to disrespect anyone’s religion.

Nor am I claiming that God sent a flood to punish Nepal for its religious traditions.

None of us possesses the authority to make that declaration.

But as someone who believes in the God of the Bible, I cannot ignore another question:

What does it really mean to serve God in a world filled with other gods?

The Bible repeatedly confronts humanity with that choice.

Joshua said:

“Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve.” — Joshua 24:15

That statement was not merely about statues.

It was about allegiance.

Who receives your ultimate trust?

Who determines how you live?

Who do you turn to when everything else fails?

The Modern World Has More Gods Than We Admit

This conversation should not be aimed only at Nepal.

That would be far too convenient.

The Western world may have fewer visible temples dedicated to multiple deities, but we have created plenty of gods of our own.

Money can become a god.

Power can become a god.

Politics can become a god.

Celebrity can become a god.

Technology can become a god.

Sex can become a god.

Status can become a god.

Even our own ego can sit on the throne where God once stood.

Anything that receives the devotion, obedience and dependence that should belong to God can become an idol.

So before Christians point toward Nepal and ask about Hindu gods, Buddhist traditions or other forms of worship, perhaps we should look into our own homes, businesses, churches and hearts.

Who are we really serving?

The Flood Is Real — and So Is the Warning

There are scientific explanations for natural disasters.

Understanding those explanations does not threaten faith.

The recent catastrophe in Nepal has been associated with a massive collapse of glacier ice and rock high in the Himalayas, creating an enormous surge of water and debris downstream. Scientists and authorities continue studying precisely what happened.

But understanding how something happened does not necessarily answer every question about what humanity should learn from it.

Science may explain the mechanism.

Faith asks about meaning.

And wisdom asks what we should do next.

The warning I see is therefore bigger than Nepal:

Human beings have become dangerously confident in our own permanence.

We build cities and believe they cannot fall.

We accumulate wealth and believe it cannot disappear.

We develop technology and begin believing we control nature.

We live as though tomorrow has signed a contract promising to arrive.

Then something happens.

Water rises.

Earth moves.

Markets collapse.

War begins.

Disease spreads.

And suddenly humanity remembers just how fragile we really are.

What If the Warning Is Not “God Is Angry With Nepal”?

Perhaps we have been asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking:

“Is God punishing Nepal?”

Ask:

“What should Nepal—and the rest of us—learn while watching how quickly life can change?”

That question places responsibility on all of us.

Jesus Himself addressed a similar temptation.

When people told Him about individuals who had died tragically, He refused to simply declare that the victims were worse sinners than everyone else. Instead, He turned the conversation back toward those who were still alive.

His message was essentially:

Do not spend all your time judging the dead. Examine your own life while you still have time.

That principle matters enormously here.

The people suffering in Nepal deserve our compassion, not our condemnation.

But the living deserve a warning.

We Keep Receiving Warnings

Look around the world.

Floods.

Wildfires.

Earthquakes.

Wars.

Political instability.

Extreme weather.

Economic uncertainty.

Technological disruption.

Nations confronting nations.

People becoming increasingly divided.

None of these individually proves that the end of the world has arrived.

Humanity has experienced disasters throughout history, and irresponsible prophecy has frightened people for centuries by attaching dates and divine explanations to events that people could not possibly know.

I refuse to do that.

But Jesus did tell His followers to remain watchful.

Matthew 24 speaks about wars, famines, earthquakes, persecution, deception and upheaval while warning people not to be deceived.

Perhaps the greatest danger isn’t that someone predicts the future incorrectly.

Perhaps it is that humanity becomes so comfortable that nothing wakes us up anymore.

What Are We Building Our Lives Upon?

Jesus told the story of two houses.

One was built upon rock.

One was built upon sand.

Then came the rain.

Then came the flood.

Then came the wind.

Notice something important:

The storm came to both houses.

Faith was not a guarantee that storms would never come.

The difference was what remained standing afterward.

That changes the entire conversation.

Serving God does not mean Christians will never experience floods, disease, financial hardship, loss or death.

Christian communities suffer disasters too.

Churches have been destroyed by hurricanes.

Believers have died in earthquakes.

Good people experience terrible circumstances.

The promise of faith isn’t necessarily immunity from the storm.

It is having a foundation greater than the storm.

The Future Should Concern Us

I believe humanity is entering a period where spiritual discernment will become increasingly important.

Technology will become more powerful.

Artificial intelligence will become more influential.

Governments will possess greater capabilities.

Climate pressures will challenge populations.

Information and misinformation will become increasingly difficult to separate.

Money may become almost completely digital.

Human beings will possess abilities previous generations would have considered impossible.

And with greater human power comes an ancient temptation:

to believe we no longer need God.

That may ultimately be the greatest false god of all—

ourselves.

The Tower of Babel was not simply about constructing a tall building.

It represented humanity saying:

We will build.

We will rise.

We will make our own name.

Thousands of years later, humanity is still building towers.

Only now they are digital, financial, technological and political.

And still the question remains:

Where is God in what we are building?

My Message to Nepal — and to the World

I am not looking at Nepal and saying:

“You worship the wrong gods, therefore this happened to you.”

That would be cruel, simplistic and spiritually arrogant.

I am looking at Nepal and saying:

“Human life is fragile. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Perhaps all of us should reconsider what we worship while we still have the opportunity.”

Nepal should reflect.

America should reflect.

Barbados should reflect.

The Cayman Islands should reflect.

Europe should reflect.

Christians should reflect.

Hindus should reflect.

Muslims should reflect.

Buddhists should reflect.

Atheists should reflect.

Every one of us should ask:

What do I believe?

Why do I believe it?

What am I living for?

What controls me?

What have I made into a god?

And ultimately:

Who am I serving?

Because one day the possessions disappear.

The titles disappear.

The businesses disappear.

The houses disappear.

Even the bodies we spend our lives protecting eventually return to the earth.

And what remains is the question humanity has wrestled with since the beginning:

Is there something greater than us?

I believe there is.

I believe in God.

I believe warnings do not always arrive as voices from the heavens. Sometimes the events around us simply remind us of truths we have become too comfortable to remember.

So when I look at the waters rising in Nepal, my first response is compassion.

My second is prayer.

But my third is reflection.

Not:

“God, what did they do wrong?”

But:

“God, what are we supposed to learn?”

Because perhaps the most dangerous person isn’t the person who receives a warning and becomes afraid.

It is the person who receives warning after warning—

and eventually stops paying attention.

— Kerwin Boxill