As I cycle through semi-deserted streets of London, I’m
reflecting on the state of our planet. I feel a little like Frodo in ‘Lord of
the Rings’ – a very small person, moving amidst giant forces at work in the
world. For this is not a small problem, affecting one country, but an entire
way of life.
We have built our civilisation on sand, instead of the rock. I don’t believe it is situation of God’s direct judgment, as some Christians are claiming. But we are reaping, as a species, what we have sown, in a kind of Christian version of karma.
We have built our civilisation on sand, instead of the rock. I don’t believe it is situation of God’s direct judgment, as some Christians are claiming. But we are reaping, as a species, what we have sown, in a kind of Christian version of karma.
In addition, as our lifestyle is under threat, the thin
veneer of English politeness gets ripped away. We see people fighting, with their
fists (!), over what? Toilet paper! Supermarket shelves are emptied by panic-buying,
as individuals look after their own short-term self-interest.
Fear is on the rise, because no one knows what will happen, or how long the consequences will be with us. A friend, who is an NHS psychologist, reported to me that self-referrals, for anxiety, are rising steeply, as the effect of stress and worry increases.
But, although we too have to take precautions, for ourselves and as responsible citizens, not wanting to pass on infection to others, nevertheless we, as believers, have a reason to hope. God is sovereign; though we should avoid indulging in facile point-scoring, playing on people’s fretfulness.
For example, one of our church members just lost her job, as customers dry up. But she told us today, about her flatmates. They are very scared by the crisis, and asked her to ‘bless their apartment’. This was not something, she’d ever done before (!), so she called us for advice.
We explained that we don’t exactly have a rite for that, as Baptists (she grew up as a Catholic). So we told her that because she lived there, she herself carried God’s blessing in that place. We suggested that she could read a passage from Scripture, and pray for everyone.
We have yet to hear how it went; but one woman there, who had been hostile to Christian faith, has now asked if she can come to church with our sister. This is an example of how, in the middle of an emergency, it is possible for people, coming to an end of themselves, to experience God.
Although we are discouraged from physically meeting people, we can still reach out with practical actions of love: phoning or texting neighbours and work colleagues, offering to do shopping for those who can’t get out.
Like many, of all faiths and none, we have sent round a card, to our block, offering to help anyone who needs it. For some of them, it’s the first contact they’ve had with anyone here, so great is the isolation of city dwellers.
Paradoxically, therefore, this period of disconnection may well be an opportunity to reconnect our atomised urban society, rebuilding social capital, recreating the lost sense of community.
Fear is on the rise, because no one knows what will happen, or how long the consequences will be with us. A friend, who is an NHS psychologist, reported to me that self-referrals, for anxiety, are rising steeply, as the effect of stress and worry increases.
But, although we too have to take precautions, for ourselves and as responsible citizens, not wanting to pass on infection to others, nevertheless we, as believers, have a reason to hope. God is sovereign; though we should avoid indulging in facile point-scoring, playing on people’s fretfulness.
For example, one of our church members just lost her job, as customers dry up. But she told us today, about her flatmates. They are very scared by the crisis, and asked her to ‘bless their apartment’. This was not something, she’d ever done before (!), so she called us for advice.
We explained that we don’t exactly have a rite for that, as Baptists (she grew up as a Catholic). So we told her that because she lived there, she herself carried God’s blessing in that place. We suggested that she could read a passage from Scripture, and pray for everyone.
We have yet to hear how it went; but one woman there, who had been hostile to Christian faith, has now asked if she can come to church with our sister. This is an example of how, in the middle of an emergency, it is possible for people, coming to an end of themselves, to experience God.
Although we are discouraged from physically meeting people, we can still reach out with practical actions of love: phoning or texting neighbours and work colleagues, offering to do shopping for those who can’t get out.
Like many, of all faiths and none, we have sent round a card, to our block, offering to help anyone who needs it. For some of them, it’s the first contact they’ve had with anyone here, so great is the isolation of city dwellers.
Paradoxically, therefore, this period of disconnection may well be an opportunity to reconnect our atomised urban society, rebuilding social capital, recreating the lost sense of community.
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