Cancel everything! Nothing is worth the risk that this disease might spread. Quick! To the stores! Toilet paper, enough canned goods for months, cases of water (why water?), and of course enough disinfectant to douse our home at least ten times. Stay away from people. Don’t even think of traveling. Sell all your stocks! We might never recover! Everyone stay calm and panic; this is serious!
I have had a hard time getting worked up about COVID-19. Though I have been wiping down common surfaces, focusing on completely scrubbing my hands (20 seconds is a surprisingly long time), and avoiding touching my face (no easy task when you have both seasonal allergies and an awesome mustache), I can’t even bring myself to worry at all. I fully understand we need to “flatten the curve” so hospitals can properly care for the sick. I guess I understand some of the closings. (Our school only closes when we want it too, like a sunny day in Oregon, so that’s not going to disrupt our lives.) I continue to pray for, plan for, and offer what help I can to those in the most vulnerable groups. Yet, it still seems likely that many will get sick, some seriously, and not a few will die.
All the advice I have seen from medical experts and disease control agencies seems good and wise. I see no reason we shouldn’t apply it to our lives. But what about all the panic? Where is that coming from? Is this virus really different than all the others that have come before it? Is it more dangerous than all the other dangers that tragically take human life every day around the world? Is an illness really going to shut our lives down? Will children missing school, workers taken off the job, and putting our lives on hold stop it? Can we sanitize everything? Are we doing something, or do we just feel that way? Is it all too much? Or is it too little too late? I admit, I don’t know.
In light of all this, I have been reflecting on the Psalms. There I find both the source of all this fear and panic, and the relief.
Again and again the Psalms confess. God is my refuge. My Strength. My Stronghold. My Rock. My Deliverer. But what happens when he isn’t? What happens when you replace God with anything else? Government is my refuge. (Shudders) Trump (or Biden or Bernie) is my deliverer. Science is my rock. My work is my stronghold. The economy and my things are my strength.
In the good times, we might delude ourselves into thinking this works. The government can pass laws to make our lives better. It protects us. It ensures our rights. It pools our resources together to provide for our needs. Science and technology have done wonders. They have made us healthier. They have given us knowledge. They have made life so much easier. They provide security and power, distraction and healing. My work gives me purpose and direction. My stuff, all that I gather, that number in the spreadsheet can provide for my future. We are living the dream!
Then one microscopic virus pops that bubble. No government or leader on earth was up to the challenge. They couldn’t stop the spread. No medical system was ready to prevent or even fully treat this outbreak. The science and technology are lagging behind, eventually they may find a solution, but already we have seen how vulnerable we are, they can’t really protect us. Work and income aren’t guaranteed. Our stuff can’t promise a long life. This thing, a communicable and harmful virus has brought the world face to face with the reality we have been trying our hardest to ignore. We will all die. None of those replacement “gods” has a lasting answer. When we place our roots in them, we will be like chaff that the wind blows around. Every new threat is a good reason to panic with pathetic “gods” like those.
God is our refuge and strength, a helper who can always be found in times of trouble. That is why we will not fear when the earth dissolves. Maybe that is how it feels right now, like the earth is dissolving. The more the bad news spirals out of control, and all the things we love and enjoy are being taken away, the less secure the ground feels under our feet.
God’s voice calls out, “Be still! And know that I am God.” We, who know Christ, know we can be still. No one can take away God. No one can change his love. No one can surpass his thoughts. No one can destroy what his love has done for us. Jesus’ blood still purifies us from all sin. Jesus’ tomb is still empty. He still lives and he still sits upon his throne. He still rules all things for our good. (I don’t have to understand the details on how and why. He is God. I am not. How liberating that knowledge is!) He will raise us up on the last day. This world, heaven and earth, will pass away, but his word does not. He will make all things new. And God will wipe every tear from our eyes. Be still.
With no reason to panic and the confidence that God is near to protect and keep us, we can go out to live lovingly and wisely. Perhaps all these closings and cancellations are our opportunity to evaluate what really matters in this life. In times of trouble, we can look around and see the people God has put in our lives to love and serve. (We also get to see those who love and serve us. Thank you to all those who work to keep us safe and healthy.) What do they need? How can we help them? We can give out of God’s great abundance of love. When death is near, it is God’s call to repent. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. In times of distress, you have the words of God that bring comfort, healing, and rest to wearied souls.
Instead of worry and fear, I encourage us all to spend a little time in the Psalms today. You can start with #1.