by Zach Kincaid
Wherever we find life, we find virus. The onslaught of the coronavirus shouldn’t shock us, especially in our deeply interconnected world. Like other bleeps in nature, viruses spawn out every so often. We see it in history.
The Antonine plague (measles) killed 5 million in 165 AD. Less than 400 years later, the Justinian plague (bubonic) wiped out 25 million. In the 1300s, another 200 million faced the black death unsuccessfully. Then cholera and flu danced through the years: Cholera of 1852 (1 million); flu of 1889 (1 million); cholera of 1910 (800,000); flu of 1918 (25 million in the first 25 weeks); flu of 1958 (2 million).
So, the coronavirus of 2020 has a network of former friends, and, it’s true too, that the six feet distance we keep from each other will become vertical. History shouts that loud and clear. We all die. 100%.
What then is God communicating to us? Is this just a random network of wack-a-mole viruses that rear their heads haphazardly? Does the past suggest anything to us? We could skim through the above catastrophes and point out, for example, that the famed Christian apologist Justin of Neapolis is beheaded by Rome in 165, or that the Hundred Year War between England and France begins in 1337 and gives us Joan of Arc’s martyrdom in 1431. We might point to the barbarism of World War I that is tucked between the plagues of 1910 and 1918. Do we check off one as a warning and another a judgment? And 1958 borders the Babel push upward into the stars to hunt for something beyond and prove our capabilities to harness science. Is the flu that hit that year a shot across the bow of modernity coming to fullest fruition?
Should we even speculate on the developments of plagues or famine or war as it relates to God’s wider plan for redemption, judgment, and ultimate restoration? The Bible seems to support speculation. On one occasion, the disciples ask Jesus, “What will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?” He doesn’t answer in a rebuke but with a warning. “Take heed that no one deceives you,” he tells them. “For many will come in My name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and will deceive many. And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows” (Matthew 24:3-8).
Some scholars think Jesus is talking specifically about the earliest persecutions and the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. Others say it’s both the time after Jesus’ ascension and the many times of persecution that ebb and flow until this day. I cite the engagement between Jesus and his disciples not to answer this question, but rather to show that speculation is OK. We ought to read the signs of our day like the wise men from the East read the signs in the sky. Our signs might pull us into more focused prayer, a more disciplined approach to reading the Bible, and a reshaping to Christ-like priorities. Certainly, all of these pulls ought to be present as we work out our salvation every day, but they often go neglected.
Broadly, God calls us to himself amid painful and desperate times. C.S. Lewis says that pain is God’s megaphone to arouse us to attention and present us with grace. As our health eventually fails us in the frailty of old age, God also calls out with grace. I suppose since death is the curse from Eden, old age is the grace to prepare us for it. Like a pandemic, pain and old age bring us closer to a state of kneeling. And, like Bono says, “If you want to kiss the sky, you better learn how to kneel.”
All this chatter doesn’t solve the one-for-one, virus-as-judgment question. Remember when Katrina hit New Orleans and Jerry Falwell claimed it to be judgment on a wicked city? The mainstream press and “smart” Christians laughed it away. Was it judgment? We don’t know, but what we must circle back to if we are to claim Christianity is the assurance that God controls the weather. Falwell wasn’t speaking completely out of turn. Yes, many Christians would not leap to the immorality of New Orleans as a trigger, but God did allow such an event to happen there and not just somewhere.
The same thing is true with the present virus and the viruses throughout history. They are a wakeup call and act as some pronouncement of judgment as much as an invitation into grace. The majority of the viruses listed above and including the coronavirus hail from Asia. Does that commonality invite us into asking Falwell-like questions about China and the places most impacted by the virus’s spread? Maybe. Open Doors reports that churches are being shut down, the purchasing of Bibles banned, and many pastors are arrested or worse. China also abuses its people including the most recent flashpoint with the Uighurs. What about the other places the virus is hitting? Just like the plagues of Egypt, there is a message behind the virus and it’s not simply to wash your hands or wait until science fixes the problem. We may not be persecuting the church like the Chinese authorities, but maybe we’re apathetic to faith in Jesus. We may not be enslaving others, but we might hate our neighbors. We may not ban the Bible, but we may never actually put it to the test to see if the rumor about God’s love on the cross is true.
We know that God desires all people to repent (I Tim. 2:4), but Jesus clearly says that the way into the kingdom is narrow and many will choose the broader path away from God and into destruction (Matt. 7:14). If God desires everyone to repent and pain really is his megaphone, then we must in the least acknowledge that the virus of 165 and the virus of 2020 are working toward a similar end: repent for the kingdom of God is at hand. And we might want to suspend any specific judgment because we are all sinners, condemned to die.