The Georgia rain
On the Jasper County clay
Couldn’t wash away
The way I loved you to this day
The ol’ dirt road’s paved over now
Nothin’ here’s the same
Except for the Georgia rain.
—Tricia Yearwood, Georgia Rain
One of the most time-dishonored methods for cultists to entrap
their acolytes is by building a logical loop into their thinking.
The formula goes something like this: B is a system independent of
A, and only things recognized by B are considered, so A must not
matter. Today’s scientists are adept at this. They “prove” that God
does not exist by defining existence as things identifiable by
science and defining science as the identification of all things
tangible.
A second group that mimics this strategy is the collective of
modern journalists. They operate within a matrix that presumes the
following: Our job is to report news. Reporting is conveying in
words what was seen. Things not seeable are not reportable; ergo,
they are not news. God cannot be seen; ergo, God cannot be news. On
the other hand, foolish statements and behavior about God can be
seen and heard, thus newsworthy. By this system, only articles
mocking religion are worth doing. When the mockers get a
comeuppance, that is censored.
The most glaring example of this, though a regrettable story
from any viewpoint, came in a scornful article by the Jerusalem
Report some years ago. Some Sephardic Jews had placed a
mystical curse on Prime Minister Rabin that was said to kill him
within thirty days. That was taken as obvious cause for hilarity.
The outcome was that not only was he dead within thirty days, he
was dead before the cover date on that issue of the magazine! Could
the next issue then report that the power of the imprecation had
been proven? Of course not. Thus the trap: if it doesn’t come true,
that is proof of falseness, but if it does come true, that is not
proof of truth.
Which brings us to the great state of Georgia, Governor Sonny
Perdue, and the prayer service he initiated for rain last week. The
scoffers were out in force, reviling this rube for thinking that
humanity could appeal to divinity for relief from drought. They
stood by afterwards, ribald pens sharpened, ready to describe in
minute loving detail the arid night that followed, the wilting
leaves, the dashed hopes, the crestfallen naifs.
Except… oops! It rained.
The stories could not be celebratory. Instead they
did the math in the aftermath. True, it rained, but not enough.
Yes, a full inch throughout northern Georgia, but that is hardly an
inroad along the long road ahead. “No significant long-term
benefit,” the meteorologist hastens to dispel the gratitude. “A
little bit of extra water,” you see, in the “smaller reservoirs and
tributaries”; nothing to write home about.
Contrast this with the view of Maimonides, a pretty decent
scientist in his own right: “This is among the ways of penitence.
At a time that a disaster befalls, and people cry out, everyone
will know that because of their misbehavior things have gone badly.
This will cause the crisis to be withdrawn. But if they do not cry
out, instead saying this thing is part of the way of the world and
this trouble is an incidental occurrence, that is a cruel approach.
It causes them to cling to their misdeeds. Then that trouble will
bring other troubles in its wake.” (Laws of Public Fast Days,
1:2-3)
The truth is most Americans are not as callous, nor have such
callused souls, as your journeyman journalist type. They believe
there is a Providential hand nudging their fate in generally
salubrious directions. To affirm this, Thanksgiving was instituted.
Yet in recent times there has been a weakness in the area of
self-examination during times of crisis. We have trouble bestirring
ourselves to follow the example of the King of Nineveh in the Book
of Jonah, to get off our thrones and rethink our policies for
living.
The old Atlanta Braves had only two strong starting pitchers,
occasioning the classic ditty about their four-game plan: “Spahn,
Sain, pray for rain.” The Braves have learnt how to win since then
without such pluvial intervention; that is no reason to jettison
the devotional lesson of how to draw that Georgia Rain. Pray today,
give thanks tomorrow. Remember also that prayer is not only a means
to an end, as Maimonides explains, it must catalyze each of us into
reflecting upon our priorities.
I admire Governor Perdue’s courage; he is no chicken like Mike
Tyson. Long may he perdure.
