God and the Pandemic: A Christian Reflection on the Coronavirus and Its Aftermath

I always appreciate the writings of N. T. Wright. I first read his work in college, when I was reading up on historical Jesus studies. Wright's work, captured in the tomes that are his "Israel and the People of God" series, is captivating, comprehensive, and life-changing. Since then, Wright writes primarily for general readers. He has simplified his work (not a bad thing), and his commentaries make for great reading.

When I saw his newly published reflections on the COVID pandemic, I jumped at the chance to order the book. I suspected that Wright's work would be fresh, insightful, and prayerful. We pastors are always in need of new ways to look at current events and speak faithfully to them from a biblical point of view, and I thought Wright would help me in that endeavor.

Upon reading God and the Pandemic, one can tell Wright wrote it during the height of the pandemic, and my guess is that we've come along way in our treatment and handling of COVID since he turned in his final draft. For that, Wright was courageous in waging his bets on providing a reflection that would still be relevant now, eight months into COVID.

In some sense, he avoided making his reflections time-sensitive by drawing readers to the timeless biblical story and how it might be helpful in negotiating a global crisis.

The Old Testament, he argues, deals little with why evil happens, and focuses more on God's provision and our response during such crises. In fact, the text is in conflict with itself: Some parts of the Hebrew Bible say that bad things happen because of sin, while other parts--such as Job--say that bad things happen to both good and bad people. The debate fits within an ancient worldview in which wrestling with God and text--rather than providing absolutes--frames narratives dealing with sinful people and a holy God.

The New Testament, where Wright is most at home, examines Jesus' own commentary on this Hebrew debate concerning evil. Jesus focuses on repentance and response also. For example, when Jesus' disciples ask him why a certain man is born blind, Jesus says that the man's ailment is not a result of sin, but that "God's glory might be shown through him." Jesus does not provide answers to the "why" of evil or of pandemics, but reinforces accountability to get right with God.

This biblical thread upholds Wright's thesis, which is not to 'jump to solutions' but see how our response may fit the moment. The response for which he argues, therefore, is on the side of lament. "When we are caught up in … awful plagues," he writes, "We are to lament, we are to complain, we are to state the case, and leave it with God."

This notion is actually one I can support, but I wish Wright went further. His biblical treatment is handy, but his pastoral suggestions are a bit lacking. I support the need to lament, and our national stress and divisive politics points to the fact that we need to cry and repent more than anything else. Yet, I am left asking what creative word might help us move beyond lament, to a call to national prayer, repentance, and humility.

Leaving it with God is a good suggestion, but we need more to go on because our congregations will not be satisfied when our answer to the loss of over 240,000 lives is simply, "leave it with God." I know Wright's book offers more than that--and it is worth reading because it is clear, concise, and authoritative (especially if you've never read Wright before). Nor do I want to simplify or miss-characterize his reflection, which is very well done; but I finished the book wanting--and needing--more.

Moore: You wrote a short piece on Covid-19 for Time magazine. Magazines and newspapers have the freedom to change titles. Did Time come up with the title of “Christianity Offers No Answers About the Coronavirus. It's Not Supposed To,” or was that your title? If the latter is the case, do you have any misgivings about the title?

Wright: The headline was written by a sub-editor. That often – I think normally – happens. However since hearing some of the crazy things that people have been saying about the whole pandemic – conspiracy theories and the like, often dressed up in vaguely Christian language or with an arm-waving reference to the Bible – I think it was prescient. After all, the climax of my point is Romans 8.26-27 where Paul insists that we do not know what to pray for in the time of distress . . .

Moore: It seemed to me that your piece in Time was a warning to not be presumptuous. It also struck me that your call to lament was not one untethered to hope, but rather to guard against hoping for the wrong sort of things. Is that accurate?

Wright: Well, yes. The point is that – as we see in the Psalms again and again – true hope arises out of lament. We have a prayer in the Anglican prayer book which asks God to help us love what he commands and desire what he promises. Our natural inclination is to do that the other way round: to ask God to command what we already love and to promise what we already desire. Only in lament – in which penitence may well (though need not) be a key element – can our loves and desires, our hopes and aspirations, be reordered.

Moore: Your closing words in Time: “In fact, it is part of the Christian vocation not to be able to explain—and to lament instead. As the Spirit laments within us, so we become, even in our self-isolation, small shrines where the presence and healing love of God can dwell. And out of that there can emerge new possibilities, new acts of kindness, new scientific understanding, new hope.”

Again, it seems evident you are not advocating hopelessness as one critical reviewer described. Please add some further clarification and words on a having a biblically grounded hope. [My suggestion, if you had asked me (cue the laugh track), would have been to put this section of your article earlier.]

Wright: Well, the article got squashed down in the editing process anyway. Of course it isn’t hopeless. Romans 8.26-27 come within a chapter full of hope. But so many Christians skip over those verses because they don’t give us the easy hope we all want.

Moore: In God and the Pandemic you exhort us to steer clear of “knee-jerk” reactions. Would you highlight a few of the most egregious errors you hear others making when it comes to this present crisis?

Wright: (a) ‘This is a sign of the End; get ready for the rapture’; (b) this is a government plot to take away our freedoms; (c) vaccination will implant secret codes in you; (d) this is a punishment for [fill in the blanks . . . gay marriage? Abortion?]; e) this is a great opportunity for evangelism . . . The last one isn’t so bad, but if we needed hundreds of thousands of people to die around the world just to kick us into talking to our neighbours about Jesus then something has gone horribly wrong . . .

Moore: In God and the Pandemic, you write that Jesus weeping at Lazarus’s tomb “could be the clue to a great deal of wisdom.” Please unpack that a bit for us.

Wright: The Jesus of John’s Gospel is very obviously the incarnate Word through whom all things were made. He remains sovereign throughout the narrative; he knows what is going on, what he will do, and so on. So why does he weep? Because part of the sovereignty of the truly divine Son is his solidarity with the suffering world he came to save. Our image of God ‘controlling’ everything is very high-and-mighty. Jesus does it differently.

Moore: Predicting the future is a fool’s errand, yet it is wise to consider various scenarios so as not to be flat-footed when challenges arise. I am presently working on a documentary about the Dones, those growing numbers of Christians in America and Europe who are disillusioned with institutional Christianity, and so have stopped identifying with any local church.

How well prepared is the church, especially in Western cultures, for addressing the new landscape of a post-Covid-19 world? My own concern is that the number of Dones might grow. I also wonder how many ministers are ready to offer a clarion call to follow Jesus with greater intentionality.

Wright: I am not an expert on the present younger culture though I see plenty of the same thing in the UK. The church has always, from the beginning, spread because it was caring for the poor, the outcasts, the sick, the illiterate – and people couldn’t think why they were doing it, but they knew it was a new way of being human and they wanted to join in. Insofar as ‘institutional Christianity’ in the mainstream protestant west has been a matter of tossing ideas at people’s heads – or even warm feelings into their hearts – many younger people will shrug their shoulders and walk away. But when this faith makes a difference on the street – as from the start the Jesus-followers have always done, except when they are warned not to in case they think they are justifying themselves by ‘works’ (!) – then people of all sorts will take notice.