The Inner Monologue

When a hurricane barrels through a coastal city, and the dust settles, there’s always a moment—a statement, a tweet, a Sunday sermon—that captures the warped way we like to explain survival:

“God was watching over us.”
“We were blessed.”
“It was His will.”

But for every person who survived, someone else didn’t.
So what then? God turned his back on them?
They weren’t blessed?
They deserved it?

This isn’t just bad theology. It’s a moral rot hiding under a halo.

The Dangerous Doctrine of Deserved Death

“If I live and you die, it’s God’s will”—and by extension, I am better than you—is a belief that has persisted throughout history in various cloaks: divine right of kings, manifest destiny, prosperity gospel, even victory in war.

It’s the same toxic root in different soil:

• My survival is proof of my goodness.
• Your suffering is proof of your failure.
• The universe—or God—loves me more than you.

It turns survival into a scoreboard. It transforms tragedy into judgment. It makes grief a sign of guilt.

A Modern Parable: The Hurricane, the Mansion, and the Trailer Park

Let’s say a hurricane hits the Gulf Coast. A beachfront mansion—fortified by storm shutters, elevated foundations, and private security—survives with minor damage. A few blocks inland, a trailer park is destroyed. Families are displaced. Grandparents die.

The news interviews the mansion owner.
“We are so grateful,” he says, “God protected our home.”
But what does that imply?

That God didn’t care about the trailer park? That its residents were less faithful, less deserving, less worthy of protection?

This is how spiritual comfort morphs into moral superiority. It’s a polite way of saying, We mattered more.

The Myth of Moral Meritocracy

In America, we’re already steeped in a culture that confuses success with virtue and struggle with failure. We pretend that capitalism is a meritocracy and forget how much randomness and privilege dictate outcomes.

Now add religion to the mix, and you get spiritualized elitism:

• “If I beat cancer, it’s because I was strong. Or righteous.”
• “If I’m rich, it’s because I worked harder.”
• “If I survived combat, it’s because God was with me.”

No one wants to admit that survival—like life itself—is largely random. That some people suffer for no good reason. That privilege, not piety, often determines outcomes.

This belief lets the comfortable stay comfortable. It lets the powerful avoid empathy. It makes the survivor proud—and the grieving feel abandoned.

From the Pulpit to the Pandemic

We saw this theology in action during the COVID-19 pandemic.

• “If you died, you probably had comorbidities.”
• “If you got sick, maybe you didn’t take care of yourself.”
• “If you lived, it’s because you’re responsible.”

But those statements ignore the systemic injustices—the frontline workers without PPE, the poor without access to care, the families living in multigenerational homes. It wasn’t divine justice at work. It was exposure, inequality, and the luck of the viral draw.

And yet, many used survival as a sign of moral superiority.

Just like after a tornado. Or a cancer diagnosis. Or a school shooting.

Why This Belief Persists

There’s a reason people cling to this logic.

• It comforts survivors. “I lived because I mattered.”
• It simplifies suffering. “They died because they made bad choices.”
• It absolves the system. “No need for reform. It was fate.”

In this worldview, there are no accidents. No structural failures. No randomness. Just winners and losers in God’s game.

The Moral Cost of Interpreting God Like a Sports Referee

Believing that survival equals moral worth is more than wrong. It’s dangerous.

• It erodes compassion. Why help the dying if they deserve it?
• It feeds narcissism. “I am righteous because I won.”
• It undermines justice. If outcomes reflect virtue, then change is unnecessary.

And worst of all, it desecrates the dead. It tells grieving families that their loved ones were on the wrong side of God’s judgment.

We Need a Better Theology—and a Better Ethic

Here’s the truth: survival is not proof of superiority.
Prosperity is not proof of righteousness.
And death is not a divine condemnation.

A better worldview—spiritual or secular—acknowledges that life is full of mystery, chance, and tragedy. It demands humility from the survivor, compassion for the sufferer, and justice for the vulnerable.

If you lived, that’s not proof of your goodness.
It’s a call to empathy. A chance to serve.
A reminder: you didn’t earn it. You received it.

Final Thought

“If I live and you die, it’s God’s will” is not just a statement of belief. It’s a weaponized worldview. A theology of arrogance. A sanctification of inequality.

Let’s retire this toxic creed and replace it with something better:
“If I live, I must help those who suffer.
If I prosper, I must lift others up.
And if someone dies, they deserved love—not condemnation.”

Only then can we start to build a society worthy of both the living and the dead.