How shall we then think?

In the part of the country I love in, we’re drawing to a close the 3rd week of remote working, social distancing and sheltering in place.  The change has effectively sunk in and, at least myself and the friends and colleagues I keep in contact with are settling into new routines.  So many day-to-day dynamics have changed and I’m thankful for the technology that enables easy video conferencing and virtual connection.  But clearly, in the new world of COVID-19, the character of communication has taken on a very different form.  No longer are the serendipitous meetings at lunch or among the community.  Now almost all connections require an intentional initiative and some degree of planning and foresight.

Of course, as followers of Jesus we should strive to be biblical in all that we do and we think, but this is, of course, a situation that most of us have never lived through before and are just now reforming our personal frameworks and the internal narratives through which we filter the world.  And as we navigate this new path, I think it’s helpful to take some guidance from past situations that are similar and use those principles to inform our current thinking.

Nothing new under the sun

As we all know, plagues certainly aren’t new and, by many historical accounts, they have provided environments in which the distinctions between Christ followers and the rest of the world have come into sharp relief.  Even before COVID-19 many are familiar with the ancient church historian Eusebius’ description of the difference between the Christian and pagan responses to the Plague of Ciprian in the 3rd Century (one that killed as many as 5,000 per day in Rome).

Most of our brother-Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another. Heedless of the danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy; for they were infected by others with the disease, drawing on themselves the sickness of their neighbours and cheerfully accepting their pains. Many, in nursing and curing others, transferred their death to themselves and died in their stead, turning the common formula that is normally an empty courtesy into a reality: ‘Your humble servant bids you good-bye.’ The best of our brothers lost their lives in this manner, a number of presbyters, deacons, and laymen winning high commendation, so that death in this form, the result of great piety and strong faith, seems in every way the equal of martyrdom. With willing hands they raised the bodies of the saints to their bosoms; they closed their eyes and mouths, carried them on their shoulders, and laid them out; they clung to them, embraced them, washed them, and wrapped them in grave-clothes. Very soon the same services were done for them, since those left behind were constantly following those gone before.

And a few lines later he writes:

The heathens behaved in the very opposite way. At the first onset of the disease, they pushed the sufferers away and fled from their dearest, throwing them into the roads before they were dead and treating unburied corpses as dirt, hoping thereby to avert the spread and contagion of the fatal disease; but do what they might, they found it difficult to escape.

Lest Eusebius be labelled a biased, revisionist historian, consider the complaint of the Roman emperor Julian Caesar who expressed frustration that the pagan religion he advocated was effectively being “shown up” by the Christians.

Why, then, do we think that this is enough, why do we not observe that it is their benevolence to strangers, their care for the graves of the dead and the pretended holiness of their lives that have done most to increase atheism? 

For it is disgraceful that, when no Jew ever has to beg, and the impious Galilaeans support not only their own poor but ours as well, all men see that our people lack aid from us.

Somewhat lesser known, but still circulating the internet these days is reformer Martin Luther’s pastoral instruction to Christians on responding to plague, one in which he himself didn’t flee but along with his wife and daughter, who lost her life in it, stayed in Wittenberg in order to minister to the sick.  It’s worth reading in it’s (quite long) entirety for it’s very detailed, pragmatic and uniquely Christian approach that on the one hand sounds remarkably similar to today’s CDC guidelines and yet conveys the theological basis for his calling of Christians to care for the sick and dying. 

It was this witness of Christians living faithfully and simply, as Christians ought to live in any circumstances, and being willing to suffer and even die in the process, that provides a powerful and redemptive witness to a watching world.

Thinking Christianly

So what does that mean for Christians today, in the world of professionalized healthcare and medical experts, while we’re at home working remotely and social distancing?  Well, I’d suggest we do the same things that Christians are supposed to do when the S&P is at 3,300 and we’re in the middle of a contentious presidential election year.

That is to say, we’re to go about doing the business of life, guided by the creation mandate to fill the earth and subdue it, tending the gardens in which God placed us, metaphorically speaking.  We’re to continue to raise and shepherd families, grow and develop individually, conduct in business to the extent possible and to love our neighbor as ourself.  We’re to gather for worship, even if that means virtually.  In a word we’re to continue to live Christianly with eyes fixed on eternity and feet planted firmly in today, regardless of the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

So what does it look like to live Christianly when hunkered down in our homes, doing our part to flatten the curve?  I’d suggest that it starts with how we frame our thoughts.

Fear Not, Fear God

I don’t know how it is where you live, but where I am, indifference and nonchalance is rapidly giving away to palpable fear on a curve that seems to track the infection rate.  The bible has a lot to say on the subject.

The prophet Isaiah, in familiar verses tells us, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.” (43:1-2)

We’re called to fearlessness, not because we have some kind of spiritual immunity to viruses or magical guarantees that all will be well with our 401(k), but we’re called to fearlessness because we have an eternal hope and that a sovereign God who is also a good father is working out all things for his glory and the good of his people.

We do well to listen to Jesus’ words in Matthew 10:28, “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”  Viruses and economies have no power when it comes to eternity.

Expect trials

The Preacher of Ecclesiastes tells us that for everything there’s a season and a time for every matter under heaven.  Trials are no exception to that list.  There’s a time to laugh and a time to weep, a time to heal and a time to kill.

James 1:1-4 are the go-to verses when it comes to a theology of trials.  “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”  I’ve written elsewhere about considering the coronavirus as a gift.

Jesus tells us plainly in John 16:33 to expect trials.  “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”  And so we take courage in the face of the inevitability of trials, not because we’re guaranteed an outcome of worldly success, but because Jesus has overcome not only teh world, but death itself.

Remember this is not our home

Thinking Christianly is having an eternal perspective.  This world is not the end game and although we’re called to a life in space and time, this is not our home.  We are, as John Bunyan so aptly illustrated in Pilgrim’s Progress, sojourners passing through this life on the way to one of eternal glory.

This is the basis of the Christian hope.  As the Apostle Paul made clear in his letter to the Corinthian church, “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.”  (15:19)

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews expresses this beautifully in the great chapter on faith describing old testament believers, “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” (11:13)

Our days are numbered

Thinking Christianly means reminding ourselves that we are not mere victims of the whims of chance and that the time and place of our lives is inalterably determined by God.

Job was a man acquainted with suffering and knew keenly that death comes to all reminds us that our days are fixed by God.  “Since his days are determined, and the number of his months is with you, and you have appointed his limits that he cannot pass, look away from him and leave him alone, that he may enjoy, like a hired hand, his day.” (14:5-6)

Having a Christian response to the coronavirus starts with having an eternal perspective and bringing our thoughts captive to obedience to Christ.  When we’re focused in faith on the author of our faith then we like Peter can step out of the boat.  But without the right focus we can easily find ourselves drowning in the coronavirus craziness.