On a wing and a prayer.

The Cartoon is in two panels. In the first panel a poor fellow is knocked to the ground by a bolt of lightning. Turning his stunned gaze to the sky he cries out, "Why me, God?" In the adjacent panel a thunderous voice from the sky roars, "Why not you?"

Now there's a theme for a perceptive homily, maybe even a spectacular one! Has anyone failed to ask that question at some time in our lives? And has anyone failed to realize the profound wisdom of God's reply?

Television news, for all its faults, is able to bring home not only the horrors of wars in other parts of the world, but also catastrophes that occur in our own country: the devastating floods in Grand Forks and Fargo, North Dakota and on the West Coast, as well as the frightful damage wreaked by tornadoes, especially in the South. When we look at survivors picking through the shreds of what once were their homes we can realize, only incrementally, what it would be like to be in their shoes. And yet, and yet, why not me?

These concerns help to explain why Rabbi Harold S. Kushner's When Bad Things Happen to Good People (Avon, 1983) was on the bestseller list for such a long time. Kushner's answer to these questions is multifaceted and anything but oversimplified, and, in the final analysis, isn't the answer that the ways of God are inscrutable?

And so we, Catholics and others, turn to prayer. "Reach out, O Lord, your hand to us in consolation." And if we dare to ask, "Take away from us these trials even though we are undeserving."

As Catholics we believe that divine grace is, well, gratuitous. It is not earned. "It falleth like a gentle rain from heaven on those below." For believers there is always the possibility of miracles utterly unearned for the utterly undeserving.

The current popularity of angels and things angelic speaks to this dilemma. In scripture, angels are usually messengers bringing God's wishes to humans. In our cybernetic age, however, isn't it reasonable that the angels are also interactive, bringing our wishes, hopes, and petitions heavenward?

Allowing for the crimes and misdemeanors that are often committed in the name of angels by merchants and popularizers, today's angel phenomenon would seem to be a blessed event. If it is only a refuge from the tide of secularism that sometimes swamps us in El Nino fashion, it is desirable. And perhaps welcoming angels into our lives is much more than that.

Angels are in the first place a reminder that God is always with us and is everywhere. As children Catholics learned that each of us has a guardian angel, assigned exclusively to us. It was a comfort, especially to the very young, to know this (although some overzealous catechetical mentors used angels to post the fear of God too literally: "Remember, boys and girls--especially boys--that your guardian angel is always looking over your shoulder and will know when you do or even think something bad!").

More profoundly, angels can be a sign of hope. When we are assaulted by natural crises such as floods and tornadoes, for example, a belief in angels reminds us that miracles are possible, just as belief in the intercessory power of saints does.

Sometimes we think of miracles only as large--Saint Paul knocked from his horse and converted to Christianity; Lazarus raised from the dead; or in our time the kinds of miracles that seal the approval for canonization, medical cures unexplained by conventional treatment. But miracles can be small as well.

Think of incidents in our own lives or in the lives of others close to us. Invariably we will know or remember a situation or event that seems not to have a rational explanation. Isn't it possible that these are gifts of a loving God?

There remain, of course, lives in which no miracles seem to redeem their owners--when bad things happen to good people. Perhaps, we should add, no miracles that we know of or even that the person involved knows of.

Some small miracles occur when what doctors call spontaneous remission of a grave disease takes place. The illness disappears without a reasonable explanation. The patients are often so relieved to be feeling better that they forget to say, "My God, it's a miracle!"

The proof that God has a sense of humor is the fact that miracles sometimes happen to "bad people." And while no one should claim that the scales are necessarily balanced between good things and bad things and between good people and bad people, there's enough goodness and beauty even in the ironic words of the song "What a Wonderful World" to be blessedly hopeful.

Grace, it is truly amazing.