Life in the pandemic II: Between hubris and humility

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.

Hubris and its rewards

The dust is beginning to settle but it's unclear what the outlook is. We had an unexpected outcome to the general election in 2015. Then we had the Brexit result. That was closely followed by the Trump election in the US. Now punditry has taken  another kicking in Thursday's general election. Even at the end of the campaign the received wisdom pointed to a clear Conservative victory. Things hadn't entirely gone their way, but an overall majority, probably increased from what they achieved in 2015, was still expected. Then came the exit poll. We were back in hung parliament territory with no party holding an overall majority. And that's how it panned out.

It turned out that policy discussion trumped personal attacks, the young turned up and voted, and the campaign mattered. To a certain degree earnestness, consistency and principles, almost overthrew cynicism, cash, messaging and manipulation.

To an ordinary voter (ie me), it looks as though the Tories simply thought they had it in the bag and concluded they didn't have to try too hard. They didn't provide a clear and properly costed explanation of what they wanted to do, why they wanted to do it, and how they wanted to do it. They went with soundbites and slogans (remember "strong and stable"?). At least Labour had a stab at a proper manifesto. They had a go at the numbers. They attacked the Government's record and proposed a clear alternative. But instead of engagement we got evasion. The Prime Minister's no-show at the leader's debate, while completely understandable, came to symbolise that evasion. And her performance at the leaders' question time was at times patronising. I can only assume the Tories thought that the election was done and dusted; all they had to do was keep their heads down (or hidden away), not make mistakes, and all would be well. But then came the mistakes with important policies poorly constructed and explained, and in one case quickly amended mid-campaign.

On the opposition side there were ideas to be critiqued and attacked. There was a record (although not a government record) to be scrutinised, and criticised without smears. But they just didn't engage. They were determined to play the man and not the ball, and tried to reduce the whole game not so much to a game of two halves, but a game of two centre-halves. The British parliamentary system is a team game. But the Tories reduced it to I, me, my. And the I in question proved to be less capable than a lot of us had thought. Why? How?

Hubris is that form of pride that contains the seeds of its own downfall. Not all pride leads to a downfall, but hubris does. Its the claim of the boxer to be the greatest before he's felled by an uppercut in the fifth round. It's the cynicism of the politician, who's already moving on to "more important matters" before a vote is counted. Post Brexit, post Trump, you'd think they would have learned their lesson. Apparently not.

Actually the issues facing the electorate at this election were complex and profound. They were hardly aired at all. We were badly served. The result is a weakened government with an unclear mandate. But, if the politicians learn that ideas and worked out policy, explained in grown up terms, are what the electorate is after, then it won't have been a complete waste.

It is all a reminder (again) of the wider world and bigger issues, that life throws up. The judgements to be made and the evidence to be considered in deciding whether to place my "x" against a name, and which name to place it against, were quite different to what I do in my day job. But what is equally true is that it's into exactly this kind of situation that Scripture speaks. From the messiness of human lives lived out as worked examples, some good, some bad, lessons are to be learned. And from the God who ultimately creates and sustains those lives, and who calls us to live them in a particular way, the standard is set. And He has been crystal clear on the subject of hubris: "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble".