Sunday, August 16, 2026From the news

Safe in the Hands of God: Mourning Lake Kariba

Amid the sorrow of the Lake Kariba boat tragedy, Scripture reminds us that the souls of the departed are held securely by God, and those who mourn will find divine comfort.

But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.

Wisdom 3:1-3

Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Matthew 5:4

We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so also will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, let us sit quietly for a moment with the heavy news from Lake Kariba in Zimbabwe. A ferry, carrying villagers and fish traders—simple folk seeking their daily bread—capsized in heavy winds on Tuesday. Overloaded beyond its limits, with 114 adults, crew, and children aboard a vessel meant for 90, it took on water despite pleas from survivors. Now, the death toll stands at 68, including 18 precious children. Families gather at the district hospital in Kariba, walking past caskets, their hearts shattered as they identify their loved ones. Rescue teams persist, pulling 22 more bodies from the depths just yesterday, while 77 were saved by God's grace through human hands. A public memorial has been held, burials begun, and the pain echoes across the vast man-made lake, born of old displacements yet still a lifeline for the poor.

In this raw grief, where waves swallowed lives so suddenly, we turn to the gentle light of Scripture. The Book of Wisdom speaks directly to such moments: 'But the souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction... But they are in peace.' These villagers, these fish traders, these children—each bearing the indelible dignity of persons made in God's image—may have appeared lost to the waters, but God holds them close. No storm, no overload of human frailty, separates them from His merciful embrace. The Catechism reminds us that death is not the end but a passage to eternal life for the baptized, and for all, an invitation to God's love.

Jesus Himself draws near to the mourners, proclaiming in the Beatitudes: 'Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.' Picture those hundreds at the hospital, survivors like Chance Siyamavhu who clung to the overturned hull, thanking God amid chaos. Their tears are seen, their pleas heard by the One who wept at Lazarus' tomb. In our Catholic tradition, we see Mary's fiat, her trust at the foot of the Cross, transformed into the joy of Resurrection. Let us remember her as Mother of Sorrows and Queen of Peace, interceding for these families. Solidarity calls us too—to pray for the poor who risk so much on these waters, echoing Catholic social teaching's plea for just conditions and care for the vulnerable.

Yet, dear friends, we do not grieve as those without hope. Saint Paul assures us: 'We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so also will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.' The same Christ who walked on water, who calmed storms, now gathers these souls into the sacraments' promise of eternal life. Take heart in the Eucharist, where we unite with the departed; in Confession, where mercy washes our own fears; in the Resurrection's dawn that lightens every lake's shadow.

God is near, especially in Kariba's sorrow. He sees the caskets, hears the widows' laments, cradles the children. Let us rest in His steadfast presence today, allowing hope to whisper through the pain.