It is part of our human nature to try to make sense of things we do not understand. We see evidence of this inclination in the foundational myths and stories of every culture – stories that seek to answer questions like, where did the world came from? Why do thunder and lightning exist? Why are certain animals the way that they are? Even our own creation stories in Genesis were crafted as a way of making sense of a world that was so big and uncertain, and, more importantly, to communicate something about what God is like and what God’s relationship with humanity is like.
It is not unusual, then, that we are attempting to make sense of, and attach meaning to, the coronavirus pandemic. Particularly when there are so many unknowns, so much fear, and so much uncertainty, it makes sense that we would grasp at anything that might allow us to regain a sense of control. While it is understandable that we are trying to make sense of a frightening unknown, this does not mean that the explanations we land on are necessarily correct, or even helpful.
Of all the explanations and meaning-making I have heard, perhaps most troubling is the assertion by some people of faith that God caused the pandemic as punishment for the sins of the world, or to “bring us to our senses” or “get people back to church.”
This is troubling for a number of reasons. First, whenever people talk about diseases or natural disasters as punishment for sin, what they most often mean is the punishment of other people’s sin. If you were to ask them which sins, exactly, they think God is singling out, it’s hardly ever something they themselves have committed.
Second, we know that in the case of COVID-19, as well as with many natural disasters that wreak havoc across the world, it is the poor, and women, and people of color who are disproportionately affected. In the United States, Black and Latino people are dying from COVID-19 at significantly higher rates than their white peers. If we’re naming sin, certainly the structural and systemic issues that contribute to this reality ought to be highlighted. But to suggest that people of color, or the poor, or women are inherently more sinful or of less value to God is untrue, unChristian, and disgusting.
Perhaps more importantly, though, it is possible – and, indeed, faithful! – to believe in a God who is powerful and present in the world without also insisting that God causes or plans everything that takes place. Does God make bad things happen to punish people for their sins? No. Do our sinful actions have consequences for ourselves and others? Yes. Is God able to bring goodness and redemption and life from situations of brokenness and death? Yes. In fact, bringing life out of death is pretty much what God is all about.
We worship a God who was glorified in Jesus. Glorified, not as one might expect, in self-serving kingship or violent displays of power, but, rather, glorified in Jesus’ death on the cross. The God who loved the world so much that God’s son became human to live and die like we do does not desire the death of anyone. Instead, what God desires for us – and what God brings about - is relationship, flourishing, and abundant life.
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| Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash |
In today’s Gospel reading, we overhear Jesus praying for his disciples on the night before his death. Indeed, as his prayer begins, “the hour has come.” This prayer takes place at the end of the Farewell Discourse, which stretches over three chapters of John’s Gospel, and from which we have been hearing over the past few weeks. Jesus’ prayer is earnest, heartfelt, and raw. He prays for his disciples right in front of them, not brushing away the trials and tribulations that will surely come, but instead asking that God would protect them and be with them especially in those times.
In addition to their protection, Jesus also prays for their unity. “Holy Father,” he prays, “protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” Jesus is inextricably bound to God the Father and to the Holy Spirit. His prayer here is that we, too, might experience a oneness and unity that mirrors the unity of the Triune God.
No, God does not cause calamity or delight in disaster, pain, or death. Instead, confronted by our destructive nature and the consequences of our brokenness and sin, God chooses to bring forth redemption, life, and flourishing. God chooses to be made known not in success or glory, but with us in our suffering and pain.
In these times of pandemic, times of uncertainty and fear, we have seen glimpses of new life pushing up through the soil of death and destruction. We have seen examples of God’s presence and promise in the midst of loss and despair.
God’s presence has been with those who have died without familiar and beloved faces at their bedside because of necessary precautions against the spread of the virus. God’s comfort and peace are, even now, surrounding the family and friends of the nearly 100,000 people who have died from COVID-19 in the United States alone, as well as those across the globe.
God’s love has been shown in the sacrificial love of essential workers of all kinds, who continue to care for others at great personal cost. God’s love has been shown in community members who have stepped up to support small businesses, and to provide food, and masks, and connection for those desperately in need.
We are seeing the life and flourishing that God brings about in our own congregation as well. We’ve been reminded so starkly that the church really is the people, and not the building, however beautiful and however many memories it may hold. The need for intentionality in how we communicate has better connected us to one another in these times, especially to those who were, in many ways, “on the fringes” of our community.
Sharing our worship services online and over the phone has enabled us to spread more broadly the hope-producing message of God’s love and grace. Though these are things we could have been doing before, these unique circumstances provided the urgency and the motivation to do so much more quickly than seemed possible at the beginning of the year.
If it seems simple and comforting to pin this pandemic on God, I encourage you to re-examine what you think God is like – What is the overarching message of Scripture? Who does God value? What does the Bible tell us about God’s special relationship with the vulnerable? How does a God who would knowingly and intentionally inflict pain and suffering fit with the witness of a God whose mercy and grace are written all over Scripture?
The oneness that Jesus prays for on the night before his death is for his disciples, and for us, too. This oneness is brought about not through anything we do, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. To say that we are one means that no person is expendable, no person is less worthy of love or care, no person is outside God’s forgiveness and grace. This might not make sense to us, but it is the way of the Triune God, who draws us in and makes us one.
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