Dear Editor,

Hurricane Melissa’s aftermath grimly reminds us of the destructive power and impartiality of Mother Nather and it has also, once again, set the stage for us to pass around the heavy-laden basket of blame and scepticism.

The Jamaican Government has been put in the firing line of sharp criticism and the Christian community has been, in my opinion, unfairly judged for its perceived silence and lack of presence in support of those who lost family members, livelihoods, dignity, and everything but little more than the clothes on their backs.

My focus at this time is on the Christian community, which has, time and again, become an easy target for “righteous judgement” after Melissa’s passing. These accusations are often, frankly speaking, presented with little evidence or sound reasoning. Akin to the moment when the adulterous woman was about to be stoned by the Scribes and Pharisees for her sin and iniquity, we are quick to hurl stones of slander, shattering the already fragile spirits of those offering genuine love, compassion, and solidarity with those in dire need.

John 8:7 depicts a deeper message: a mirror held up to showcase our sins, faults, and transgressions. We have the propensity to shift the blame to the entire church community when one member falls short. Surely, we haven’t forgotten to take the plank from our own eyes before reaching for the speck in our brother’s eye. Or perhaps we are above the call of the judgement seat?

Engaging in discourse with some friends and colleagues over the past month led to questions like: Where are the Christians hiding? and Why are the Christians sitting on their hands while injustice reigns? Needless to say I presented my rebuttal, noting that not all acts of kindness need to be shared or televised to the populace. Doesn’t that come from Matthew 6:3?

Meanwhile, social media has been terrifyingly efficient in broadcasting the widespread damage to the island and amplifying negative public opinion towards Christians groups. Instead of using precious time to play devil’s advocate during one of the country’s most challenging periods since Independence, wouldn’t it be better to uplift and provide mental and emotional support.

Yet the deeper question remains: What do we gain by demonising those who are, in many cases, quietly doing the work? It is far easier to sneer at the Church from behind a smartphone screen than to get up at dawn to distribute food, sort clothing, or pray with families who have lost everything. The quiet work of compassion has never been glamorous, nor has it ever trended. But history shows that in moments of national crisis it is often the very people we ridicule who are the first to roll up their sleeves, open their homes, and give their last dollar without expecting thanks.

If we insist on discussing accountability, then let it be a full conversation, one that scrutinises not just the Church, but the wider society that so eagerly delegates moral responsibility while contributing little more than commentary.

Hurricane Melissa has exposed more than fragile infrastructure, it has exposed fragile spirits. This disaster should have unified us, yet some have chosen to weaponise the moment, turning it into a referendum on faith and morality. As the nation rebuilds, we would do well to remember that compassion is not a performance and that righteousness is not measured in viral posts.

Let us trade in our stones for empathy, our criticisms for collaboration, and our cynicism for a renewed sense of community. In a time when so many have lost so much, the least we can do is hold on to our humanity.

Dujean Edwards

Educator and researcher

dujeanedwards@gmail.com

duedwards@faculty.ucc.edu.jm