In the midst of the pandemic that we continue to endure,
there have been intriguing, even welcome, moments. Acts of kindness, like folk
shopping for their elderly neighbours and then refusing to take payment for it;
healthcare workers coming off shifts, being boosted to the front of supermarket
queues. There has been the conspicuous bravery of those healthcare workers
tending to the seriously ill in full knowledge of the risks posed to their own
health. There have been moments of solidarity, like when us normally reserved
Brits stand at our doors and in our streets and applaud all those on the front line.
There’s been stupidity too of course, like the burning of 5G phone masts after
nonsense on social media linked them to the spread of the virus. And there’s
been the scary, like attacks on people of Asian heritage blaming them for the
virus. But in general there’s been a lot to admire in the response to the
pandemic (so far) and perhaps also a touch of pride. Maybe collectively we’re
not as selfish or self-absorbed as we sometimes appeared to be pre-virus. Maybe
we are not a “snowflake” generation, and can endure and prevail like our
forebears who faced wars and disasters in their time.
The Government certainly continues to try to evoke that spirit
of battling through that has been likened to the “blitz” spirit. Whether it’s
the plucky engineers and manufacturers heroically struggling to mass produce medical
ventilators or parents inventing ways to educate their own kids in their own
homes (and quite possibly thinking wistfully of the teachers who had that
burden up until a few weeks ago). By pulling together, by getting our heads
down, by all doing our bit, we can win the struggle. You can’t fault them for
the approach. Much more is likely to be achieved by encouragement than by
coercion. And if in a few short weeks the crisis abates or even passes, if
there’s a return to something that approaches normality, we will undoubtedly
heave a collective sigh of relief and indulge in pats on the back all round.
We’ll be proud that we did it. Don’t get me wrong. We should all be doing our bit.
And we should be applauding the heroic contribution of so many. There is
something genuinely touching about many of the stories emerging. There is
selflessness to be celebrated, and cynicism to be avoided. But pride can
quickly slide into hubris, and I do feel slightly conflicted about some of what’s
going on.
Even among Christians, it seems that so far we’ve been
concentrating on the practical things we should be doing and not thinking too
much about what it all means. Of course, for many people the idea that there is
any “meaning” to be gleaned from a pandemic makes no sense. Viruses come and
go; they are neither good or bad, they’re just viruses. Occasionally a
dangerous one comes along and a pandemic results. It has happened before, and
will probably happen again. At least this time we have technology and science that
wasn’t available to combat the Black Death or Spanish flu. But this pandemic is
not a natural disaster (like an earthquake or volcanic eruption). It was caused
by human activity and behaviour in a way that earthquakes are not. The spread
of the virus and its effects have been enabled and amplified by human activity
and behaviour. And to be fair, stopping the pandemic, or at least the speed of
its stopping, will also depend on human behaviour. So at a minimum, there will
be lessons for us to learn from our behaviour good and bad.
Big events, particularly big, bad events should cause us to
pause, think and reflect. This is a global pandemic, the biggest of big events,
so there is thinking to do. If nothing else, it is a dramatic reminder of how
fragile life is - as fragile as it always has been. I don’t know how much time
Boris (our Prime Minister) has for God and His ways; I suspect not much. Boris
has been in an intensive care unit in a London hospital for the last few days.
I am sure this is not what he was anticipating just a few weeks ago when he won
a decisive election victory, and obtained the prize that he had spent years
working, scheming, (lying?) and plotting for. I really do hope he recovers
fully (he appears to be on the mend), and returns to do the job he was elected
to do. But I also hope he returns with a changed perspective on his personal fragility,
on his ability to control circumstances, and yes on the God he has probably spent
his life ignoring. A bit more humility. And if Boris’ perspective should
change, why not mine? But Boris is of course just one individual.
I am emphatically not drawing a straight line either between
Boris and the judgement of God, or between the pandemic as a whole and the
judgement of God, although there are some Christians who are happy to do
exactly this. But neither do I think that it is misconceived to look for
explanations and meanings in current circumstances from a Biblical perspective (as
N.T. Wright recently argued in Time magazine). Any explanation will be far from
simple; any meaning will apply at multiple levels. And I claim no particular
insight or authority. Indeed the Bible itself warns us about making bold
explanatory claims in tough circumstances. God Himself challenged the “friends”
of a man who suffered unjustly, who offered simple explanations for his
predicament: “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?”
(Job 38:2). I’m fully aware that there is a huge knowledge gap in the current
situation. But not knowing everything is not the same as there being nothing to
know.
I do know that these events are not just happening. Yes,
there are natural and naturalistic explanations for much of what is going on.
But underpinning all of these are the purposes of God. That’s a problem as much
as an explanation. How a global pandemic, with the suffering and struggle
implied, maps to the purposes of a good, faithful and gracious God raises
difficult issues. Some will argue that it raises insurmountable arguments
against even the existence of such a being. However, I also know that He is to
be trusted, even when, as in current circumstances, I don’t understand His
purposes either in their detail or their totality. And I also know that, given
events of Good Friday, the same God in the person of His Son, endured suffering
to good purpose. So there is no room for smart, slick, simple, arrogant, told
you so, single Bible verse pronouncements here. No proud boast that thanks to
my reading of the Bible I (or we) have it all worked out. But He knows all the
things I don’t. So there is plenty of room for humility and trust.
It’s dark today, but Sunday is coming.
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