Why did this happen, Lord?

In light of the devastating earthquake in Haiti, Rod Dreher linked to this wonderful post by Orthodox theologian David Bentley Hart that appeared in the Wall St. Journal after the 2004 tsunami:

The Christian understanding of evil has always been more radical and fantastic than that of any theodicist; for it denies from the outset that suffering, death and evil have any ultimate meaning at all. Perhaps no doctrine is more insufferably fabulous to non-Christians than the claim that we exist in the long melancholy aftermath of a primordial catastrophe, that this is a broken and wounded world, that cosmic time is the shadow of true time, and that the universe languishes in bondage to "powers" and "principalities"--spiritual and terrestrial--alien to God. In the Gospel of John, especially, the incarnate God enters a world at once his own and yet hostile to him--"He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not"--and his appearance within "this cosmos" is both an act of judgment and a rescue of the beauties of creation from the torments of fallen nature.

Whatever one makes of this story, it is no bland cosmic optimism. Yes, at the heart of the gospel is an ineradicable triumphalism, a conviction that the victory over evil and death has been won; but it is also a victory yet to come. As Paul says, all creation groans in anguished anticipation of the day when God's glory will transfigure all things. For now, we live amid a strife of darkness and light.

The thing I want to know though, from the folks who believe that the human body evolved from lower life forms is this: it would mean that death was always part of life, no? That nature was always red in tooth and claw, no? Where does the Fall come in? Where does the Primordial Catastrophe lie?

I'm not all that interested in "the plumbing" of how we got here, but I sure find attempts to fit an evolutionary model onto the Christian story of Creation, Fall, Redemption, make me uncomfortable.

Presbyterian Pastor Mark D. Roberts wrote a series after the tsunami that I found helpful. Here are some excerpts:

The root cause of the world's brokenness we find in Genesis 3, when the woman and man rebel against God. As a consequence, the earth that was to be their friend becomes both friend and enemy. The man will continue to harvest from the earth, but only in the midst of thorns and thistles. The woman will continue to give birth, yet with the pains of labor.
	The tsunami innundating the Chedi resort in Phuket. (AFP/Joanne Davis)

From a biblical perspective, the woman is not the only one suffering the trauma of childbirth, however. Consider this passage from Romans 8:

I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. (8:18-23)

Like a woman in labor, creation itself is groaning with pain and waiting for redemption. Now there is theological depth in this text that I can't begin to plumb in this post. But the point I wish to emphasize is clear: Creation itself is broken. Somehow human sin has infected, not only human hearts and human society, but also the very universe in which we live. The result of this infection is the sort of tragedy we have seen in the last week, with its consequent suffering. In truth, suffering goes on throughout our world every day. But when it comes so dramatically and unexpectedly, we must wonder why things are so horrible, and why, if God is good, he lets it all happen.

Then this:

As Christians we embrace the hope of the new creation. Even as we take the brokenness of this world and the pain it produces seriously, we don't give up hope and fall into the pit of despair. Let me return to Romans 8 so Paul can finish the thought he began earlier:

We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Likewise, the Spirit helps us in our weakness . . . . (8:22-26)

What is our hope? Not merely that we who know Christ will one day be in heaven with him, though this is a marvelous hope, to be sure. We will spend eternity with the Lord and with his people. But there is more. Our hope as Christians is that one day Christ and heaven will come to earth, that eternity will somehow embrace and transform our earthly reality.