“I accept chaos, I’m not sure whether it accepts me.”
― Bob Dylan
In a New York Times article from March 27th, national correspondent Julie Bosman wrote regarding coronavirus,
“As the threat expands, the orders from state and local officials have sometimes been a chaotic, confusing patchwork. With mixed signals from the federal authorities in Washington, D.C., local leaders have wrestled with complicated medical and economic choices. Mayors and governors in Oklahoma, Massachusetts, South Carolina and Texas have clashed over which restrictions to impose on residents, dispensing contradictory instructions, even as their communities are being ravaged by the virus.”
As I read the words, I have great empathy for the leaders as they fight to make decisions while playing with live ammo. As Bosman says, the officials must deal with complicated medical and economic choices in a situation with no boundaries at this stage. Like trying to lasso a tornado, coronavirus goes where it blows.
The Times article struck me as a reminder we can’t place final hope in human leaders.Whether a global pandemic, or a local school board issue, trying to meld agendas for consensus is messy. Not saying throw up our hands in futility or cowardice. Far from it, I’m astonished how local and state governors make decisions each day of this crisis.
Coronavirus is only the latest in diseases through the centuries. In our lifetime, we’ve seen SARS and AIDS. Go further back with the Spanish Flu of 1918; and way back to the Black Death in the 1300s, and on and on for all of recorded history. Even cancer has been around longer than we may have considered,
“Our oldest description of cancer (although the word cancer was not used) was discovered in Egypt and dates back to about 3000 BC. It’s called the Edwin Smith Papyrus and is a copy of part of an ancient Egyptian textbook on trauma surgery. It describes 8 cases of tumors or ulcers of the breast that were removed by cauterization with a tool called the fire drill. The writing says about the disease, ‘There is no treatment.'” ― American Cancer Society
The fact is, we can’t cure the common cold, let alone eradicate cancer. Should we be surprised when a new sickness rolls over the globe? I’d say I’m a realist more than cynic. Disease is a reminder of the central issue of this world: the ultimate cancer in Biblical theology is sin. It’s an incurable malady from which we all suffer. As Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death…” Regardless of COVID-19 or old age, we are going to die, 100% of all people. No intended morbidness, but a fact.
It’s interesting how death for men and women was not the original plan. We were intended to live without death. Lots of fascinating theology out there, but the scholarly consensus from two verses below in the OT and NT, capture the idea.
Genesis 3:22
“And the Lord God said, ‘The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.'”
Romans 5:12
“Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned.”
The original sin of Adam and Eve brought disease, sickness and death into a perfect world. The cure is found in the second half of Romans 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” The cure-all pill comes in the form of grace provided by Christ dying on the cross, for all of mankind. Shazam, with His resurrection, we win.
Times of challenge exacerbate our natural inclination towards worry. The other night I chose a different path. I forced myself to pray from a posture of thanks. Yes, I should do it always, however, I’m prone to melancholy, and a dire case of asking for candy and ponies. This night I started with “Thanks for my view,” I live in downtown Dallas, and have a great view of the city skyline. I proceeded to let the thank you’s flow, from small things to big moments in life; places I’d traveled in Africa, Haiti, Cuba, Guatemala, Paris and India; for the friends who’ve hung in for the duration; for brief encounters with folks who inspired me; for the funky mix of jobs and projects, both wins and losses. I didn’t stop, and kept searching for more thanks. The opened doors and those slammed shut; the ramen noodles and the Cabernets; the big loves and the crushing break-ups. After a couple of minutes, I felt profound gratitude in the realization of how much the Lord has given, as in all of it. Thank you God, per your perfect hand.
See ya next time. ML