You’re supposed to do both. That’s the short answer.
Orthodox Christians don’t treat preparedness as a lack of faith, and we don’t treat prayer as a substitute for boarding up windows. We’re not fatalists who sit back and say “whatever God wills” while a Category 4 bears down on the Gulf Coast. We’re also not secularists who stockpile supplies and forget to pray. We do both because we believe in synergy, God’s grace working with human effort.
What We Believe About Disasters
Here’s what Orthodoxy doesn’t teach: that hurricanes are God punishing specific people for specific sins. When a storm hits Beaumont, it’s not because God’s angry at Jefferson County in particular. That’s not how this works.
We live in a fallen world. Creation itself groans under the weight of corruption and death, as St. Paul says. Hurricanes, floods, and earthquakes are part of that brokenness. They’re not good, and they’re not what God originally intended. But they’re real, and they happen.
What matters is that God is present in the suffering. He doesn’t stand at a distance and watch. Christ entered into human pain, died, and rose again. When the floodwaters rise, He’s there with us. That’s what Emmanuel means, God with us. Not God explaining everything from a safe distance, but God present in the storm.
Fr. John Breck wrote about this after the 2004 tsunami. He didn’t offer neat answers about why disasters happen. He pointed instead to the Church’s response: prayer, presence, and practical help. The liturgy gives us language for grief and fear when our own words fail. The Eucharist unites us to Christ who suffered and conquered death. The parish becomes a center of relief and comfort.
Practical Preparedness Is Stewardship
So yes, you should have your hurricane kit ready. Water, batteries, medications, important documents in waterproof bags, a full tank of gas when the forecast turns bad. You should know your evacuation route. If you’ve got elderly neighbors, you should check on them. If your parish is organizing relief supplies, you should help.
This isn’t doubt. It’s stewardship. God gave you a brain and hands and the ability to plan ahead. Using them is part of cooperating with His care for you and your family. The Antiochian Archdiocese has coordinated disaster relief for decades, everything from Syrian earthquake victims to domestic hurricanes. The Church doesn’t just pray and then sit still. We pray and act.
There’s an old story (probably apocryphal, but it makes the point) about a man trapped on his roof during a flood. He turns away a boat and a helicopter, saying “God will save me.” He drowns, and when he gets to heaven he asks God why He didn’t save him. God says, “I sent you a boat and a helicopter.” Don’t be that guy.
Prayer During Hurricane Season
But preparedness without prayer is just survivalism. When you’re taping up windows or loading the car, pray. When you’re anxious at 2 a.m. watching the weather radar, pray. The Jesus Prayer works just fine in a hurricane: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.” Say it while you’re filling sandbags.
The Church has prayers for everything, including protection from storms. Your priest can serve a Moleben, a service of supplication, asking God’s protection for the parish and the community. There are prayers to the Theotokos, who’s called “the help of the helpless.” There’s Psalm 91, which people have prayed in danger for three thousand years: “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.”
These aren’t magic spells. They’re not guarantees that your house won’t flood. They’re means of communion with God, ways of remembering that you’re not alone, that your life is held in hands stronger than the wind.
After the Storm
If the worst happens, if you lose your home, if someone you love is hurt or killed, the Church doesn’t have a tidy explanation. We don’t say “everything happens for a reason” like it’s supposed to comfort you. We stand with you in the grief. We bring you food and help you gut the sheetrock. We pray the funeral. We keep showing up.
And we keep celebrating the Eucharist, because that’s where we meet the risen Christ who trampled down death by death. That’s the hope that sustains us. Not that bad things won’t happen, but that death and destruction don’t get the last word.
So when June rolls around and the forecasts start, check your supplies. Make your plan. Know where you’ll go if you need to evacuate. And pray. Ask your patron saint’s intercession. Light a candle to the Theotokos. Come to Liturgy. Trust God with your life, and use the good sense He gave you to protect it. Both matter. That’s how Orthodox Christians live through hurricane season in Southeast Texas.
