The old saying “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb” doesn’t ring true on this final day of the blustery month. The fierce winds of pandemic sweeping across the nation and the world continue. Nothing in them can be described as meek or lamb-like. The month named by the ancient Romans after their god of war Mars, brought not winter’s lessening grasp and spring’s warm embrace, but an ongoing viral battle that to date we are not we winning.
Ten days remain in the 2020 Lenten season. One need not be a theologian to ponder the timing of the onset of this pandemic during the holiest season of the Christian faith. It has interrupted the norms of the season such that my fourteen year old granddaughter lamented, “How can the church be closed?” Though technology allows live streaming of worship and some churches still gather in traditional fashion, we get what she means. What is this phenomenon that is causing such turmoil? And perhaps as importantly, why is it happening now?
As I’ve written before, my prayer team’s Lenten study book, Interruptions seems more on target now than it did several years ago. These pandemic- induced interrupters of every aspect of human activity give rise to theological ponderings and reflections. Those of us who both profess and attempt to practice our faith have been forced to “take a step back” and look inward at the state of our soul. How well is it? Can we sing with James Cleveland, “It is well, it is well with my soul?” Is that wellness reflected in our responses to this pandemic interruption? Do we accept that God is in control even as the number of infections rise, the necessary supplies needed by the first line responders remain a major concern, the mortality rates climb, the predictions that things will get worse before they get better spill from the mouths of those who are on the front lines, that the end is nowhere in sight despite what officials proclaim in inept daily briefings?
I’m of the mind that this crisis allowed by God, as cruel as we perceive it to be, has purpose beneath its surface. Has not the fear and anxiety it brought drawn us closer to the Father? Are not our prayers more authentic, our approach to His throne more reverent? Have we not spent more time actually reading and reflecting upon HIs word for ourselves, instead of making do with the Sunday service reading from the pulpit, which we forget all too soon after service is done? Has not the forced social distancing reminded us there are benefits to solitude with its offering of self reflection and seeking the Savior for guidance? Have not our intentions to be in touch with loved ones more often become a new reality as we set aside our own interests to reach out? Are we not discovering some of the busyness of our lives is just that-busyness that fills time, but offers nothing of true worth to life? In many areas, have we not become more discerning, more aware of things we take for granted, without appreciating how fortunate we are on so many levels?
Yes, trials and tribulations are hard; we’d prefer to avoid them altogether. But it is exactly in such times that we grow in character, in the ability to preserve, to test our mettle and come forth refined and strengthened. Such is the time in which we live today, this last day of March 2020. As we day goodbye to the windy month and look with hope to the springtime of April and May with their themes of rebirth and new beginnings, perhaps we should consider the words of Annie Johnson Flint: “Jesus Christ is not my security against the storms of life, but He is my perfect security in the storms. He has never promised me an easy passage, only a safe landing.”
I think we understand the coronavirus and its lethal potential. The why is understandable too if we view our current circumstances with eyes that look not at what is seen but what is unseen. Though hidden for the moment, God’s purposes are always foundational to His will for the world He created. Our faith should rest easily upon that truth.
Love. Joy. Peace>