Ever since I announced that I and several members of our family had been tested for COVID last week, I have received daily inquiries about how we are feeling and whether we are symptomatic. I am grateful for the concern and completely flummoxed as to how to respond. After all, all of us felt fine when we were tested and in the days immediately afterwards. But over the weekend I had a mildly sore throat for a couple of days, for the last couple of days I have had a moderate headache, and several times I have felt a little winded, usually near the end of my daily run of 3-5 miles. Obviously, I must have COVID and should expect any day now to check into the ICU. Or maybe it is allergy season, maybe I had a mild cold, maybe my voice is strained from reading aloud to my kids for a couple of hours on the Lord’s Day, maybe it is hard to run 5 miles when the temperature outside has already hit 100 degrees. Then there was that monkey bite. He assured me he had not been out of the country recently, but when have you ever known a monkey to tell the truth?
How am I feeling? I’m feeling fine! Does that mean I am well? Of course not. Some of you were feeling fine just before you were diagnosed with cancer. Maybe the sore throat and headache are a sign of something very serious. Maybe I do have COVID and my symptoms will grow worse. If you are feeling unwell at all, it must be COVID. There can be no other explanation. Don’t bother me with statistics and declining mortality associated with the virus. Don’t tell me that hospitals are not overrun and that the vast majority of people, more than 99% of those under the age of elderly, are in no serious danger from this virus. Don’t bother me with facts because I have seen the news and received expert epidemiological insights from my friends on Instabook and Facegram. I know better than you that we are all going to die.
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.
(Psalm 139:16)
Being born is a terminal condition. Unless Jesus returns first or you prove to be another Enoch or Elijah, every one of us is going to die someday. It may be sooner than we expect, or much later. It may be in circumstances that we will be able to anticipate, or it may catch us completely by surprise. It may result from factors we might have seemed to be able to avoid, or it might be the consequence of factors entirely out of our control. But you are going to die someday, and so am I. God already wrote every day of our lives in his book before the first day of our life began. He did not tell me how many days there will be in my story, and I don’t need to know. I only need to focus on being faithful today in view of that day when I stand before him, knowing that one day today will be that day.
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. (Romans 8:28-29)
What exactly are you afraid of? “I’m not afraid of death, Pastor, I’m just afraid of dying.” If I had a dollar for every time someone has said that to me, I’d have a lot of dollars. Three times in my life I have been laid in a hospital bed and thought seriously I would not leave it alive. Three times in my life I have prayed what I thought would be my last prayer before seeing Christ face-to-face. Those moments are clarifying. I decided after the first time I would rather not die in a hospital bed. But I don’t have much control over that, and neither do you. I can eat my plant-based diet and avoid heart disease and diabetes, only to choke to death on a brussel sprout. I can run and exercise five or six days a week and control my weight and blood pressure, only to be hit by a car or keel over from heat stroke. Or I can become sick or injured again through circumstances outside of my control and end up, once again, in that hospital bed, praying what I think may be my last prayer, only next time maybe it will be.
It is easy to live in fear. This world is a scary place, and I have a very fragile body. God could have made us gorillas, but the man hasn’t been made who would not be torn limb from limb in hand to hand combat with a great ape. We each have a large brain with extraordinary cognitive capacity and also an easily cracked skull. God made our bodies to heal and repair themselves in ways that defy scientific understanding, but those same bodies grow weaker and more susceptible to injury and disease as long as we live. I don’t know if I have COVID or not, but I have been dying for more than 41 years. Some conditions might kill me more quickly, but being born on this side of the Fall will get the job done. Man is born to trouble, and thus man is subject to fear. But the Bible calls us away from fear, to walk by faith in God’s sovereign and saving purpose.
The Lord wrote every day of my life in his book before my life began. He wrote about the fall from a tree as a young child that wounded my pride but did not seriously hurt me. He wrote about the car crash sometime later that cracked my sister’s skull and sent several members of our family to the hospital but did not kill any of us. He wrote about the childhood illness that became a defining feature of my life and altered my path and career plans forever. He wrote about the miscarriage, about my son’s near-death experience with the same condition that afflicted me, and about the three times I lay in a hospital bed and thought I had seen my wife and children for the last time. He wrote about each of those experiences--and only he knows how many more--and he wrote them into the story so that in some way his glory would be more fully displayed and I would become more like Christ. We know, not we think, not we hope, not maybe if everything works out, we know that all things, not some things, not just good things, not most things, we know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are the called according to his purpose. Even my sickness, even my suffering, even my sin, even my sorrow? Especially my sorrow. “Better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men; and the living will take it to heart” (Ecc. 7:2).
What if everything you fear is part of God’s plan and good purpose to draw you closer to him? Because it is. What if every experience in every moment of every hour throughout every day of your life was planned by God and ordered so that nothing can ever happen that is truly, ultimately, eternally to your harm but only, always, and ultimately for your everlasting good? Because it is. What if the fear you have, which is perfectly natural, is an unspiritual, untrusting, and unnecessary response to circumstances which are completely in the control and under the oversight of the God who loves you more than you know and better than anyone in this world ever could? Because it is.
And as we stayed many days, a certain prophet named Agabus came down from Judea. When he had come to us, he took Paul’s belt, bound his own hands and feet, and said, “Thus says the Holy Spirit, ‘So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man who owns this belt, and deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles.’ ”
Now when we heard these things, both we and those from that place pleaded with him not to go up to Jerusalem. Then Paul answered, “What do you mean by weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.”
So when he would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, “The will of the Lord be done.”
(Acts 21:10-14)
I am not suggesting we should be indifferent to the dangers around us. I am not suggesting it is possible to be completely without worry and care. If it were possible, God would not have to command us so often in Scripture, “Do not worry; Do not be afraid,” and then continue to forgive us for disregarding what he told us not to do. I believe in taking reasonable precautions. I eat a healthy diet, exercise, lock my doors at night, and wear my seatbelt when I drive. I even wear a mask outside when the government tells me too. And none of these things will make any difference on the day God has appointed for me to die. I am not a fatalist. I believe that God works through means, and our choices are part of how he works, secondary causes that make a difference in daily outcomes. But it is his plan that governs the outcome. It is his will that guides my life, not my own.
Christians should not be reckless people, but we should live with reverent abandon. Reverent abandon recognizes that God is in control, and we can trust him with our wellbeing, our lives, our children, and our future. Reverent abandon recognizes that worry and fear are sinful, even if natural, and are responses of unbelief, not of faith. Reverent abandon recognizes that until God calls me home, I am bullet-proof, and at the hour he calls me home, no amount of preparation or protection can thwart his summons. Reverent abandon recognizes that nothing can happen to me except what he will use for the greater manifestation of his glory and the greater good of conforming me more fully to the image of his Son. He will use even the worst of experiences of my life, the most painful, the most harrowing, and the last experience that will end my life, to draw me closer to himself and more fully prepare me for glory. So what are you afraid of? COVID? Seriously?
Sing, pray, rejoice. Jesus is risen, death has been broken, and the saints of God have been justified once and forever. Love your wife, enjoy your kids, celebrate your grandkids, and pray for the great-grandkids (and great-great-grandkids) you will never know but who are already known to our Lord. Live your life with gratitude and gusto. Stop moping around like someone who has nothing to hope for beyond this life. You were not weaned on a dill pickle. You were re-created, cleansed, consecrated, adopted, and called to everlasting joy in Jesus Christ. The earth is the Lord’s and all its fullness, but he did not make it because he needed a world--he made it for you. Enjoy God’s gifts and graces. Live fully, die faithfully, and then rejoice eternally. Maybe that headache is COVID, or maybe it is a brain tumor. Who knows? As a matter of fact, God does. If he is not worried about it, why should I? --JME
