Jesus and the Coronavirus

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crost the bar.

From "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

We’re all gonna die. Whether we die tonight, tomorrow, or thirty-five years from now, we’re all gonna die. Although there is nothing surer than this truth, we never give it the time of day. Such disconsolate thoughts simply do not fit in our workaday world. Pleasure and success belong to the present; death and mortality belong to the future. In this way, we manage to keep death at arm’s length indefinitely. Even until the moment it is on our doorstep, we insist that it is far off, avoidable, remote. Even if we pay lip service to the inevitability of our own death, we subconsciously construct ourselves as immortal—we simply cannot view ourselves as dead, for what can it possibly mean to cease living?

We now live in terrifying times. The coronavirus has brought the elusive ghost of our death, usually obscured by endless years of supposed future life, right into the foreground. I just read an interactive post from the New York Times that graphically depicts what it’s like to live in Italy right now (the link can be found here: www.nytimes.com). I encourage you to read it, although I must warn you that it is unsettling. If you have not felt any personal connection to people who have been suffering at the hands of this virus, the stories and photos in the article will quickly break your heart. In Italy, the virus has filled the hospitals beyond their capacity and killed over 10,000 people (coronavirus.jhu.edu).

The United States now has more confirmed cases than any other country, and its death toll continues to skyrocket, with over 2,000 dead as of Saturday evening. In New York City, the situation is rapidly deteriorating, with more than 30,000 confirmed cases and 672 deaths. In Maryland, there are over 992 confirmed cases, with 226 hospitalizations and 10 deaths (coronavirus.maryland.gov/, www.baltimoresun.com). No one knows when things will get better. We only know that things are bad and getting worse. The chances are that someone I know will be seriously affected by this virus before everything is said and done. I do not say these things to be alarmist or to scare anyone. I say these things because I want us all to see the truly scary state of our world: many people have died and will die. And that’s a very sobering thing.

What can we do when the specter of our own deaths no longer lies buried, but has come to terrify us? What do we do when we are reminded that even if we tiptoe around death this time, it will most definitely be back in the future? I write this to say that there truly is good news that we can lay hold of in these frightening times. This good news is not flippant or flimsy, but is full of power and strength for all who look to it.

The hope that I want to focus on is a hope offered by God himself, with a specific focus on 1 Corinthians 15, the penultimate chapter in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. In this letter, Paul has lambasted the moral state of the Corinthian church. The church was permitting things that are reprehensible by anyone’s standards, ancient or modern. He has also offered instruction on meetings and general conduct. By chapter 15, Paul has arrived at the letter’s capstone: a demonstration of the cosmic significance of the death and resurrection of Jesus. And he gives these two events (ultimately unified in their effects) a name: the gospel. This word “gospel” comes from the Greek “euangélion,” which literally means “good news.”

The first element of the good news which Paul unfolds is Jesus’ death for our sins. The Bible tells us that the wages of sin (transgression; our going against God’s good ways) is death. God has laid before us an honorable way, but we have spat in God’s face and chosen our own paths. For God to be just, our unrighteous defiance must be judged, and the only mete punishment is death. But he loves us and does not want us to die apart from his presence, so he sent his own Son to become human and die in our place. This is no alien incursion into the normal order, for Jesus was truly human. You are human. I am human. Jesus was human. He was God in human flesh. And he died in our place on a cross, meaning he took the just punishment of God that was due for our sins. In him there was no sin, but out of love he laid down his own life as the sacrifice for our sins. This is the first element of the gospel: in Jesus’ death, the just punishment for our sins was meted out, not upon us, but upon Jesus. Indeed, this is really good news.

The second element of Paul’s good news to the Corinthians is the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. After Jesus died on a Roman cross (probably on April 3, 33 AD), he was laid in a nearby sepulchre. Three days later in Hebrew reckoning, several women went to the tomb with spices. Upon arrival, they found the stone rolled away and Jesus’ body no longer in the tomb. Jesus later appeared to Peter and the other disciples, not as an ethereal ghost, but physically. In other words, his body had been killed, but it had then been raised. This is the second element of Paul’s good news: although Jesus had died, he had been raised from the dead, defeating death, for “it was not possible for him to be held by it” (Acts 2:24).

The fear of death we feel so powerfully in these times finds its answer in this good news that Paul proclaimed to the Corinthians. We have no need to hide in shame and fear from our “Pilot” across the bar, because Jesus has taken on himself our shame and sin. Instead of having an unsettled sense of guilt before the Holy, we are now able to “have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1). More than that, we are able to “rejoice in God” through Jesus and to experience his love and presence (Romans 5:8). If we are afraid of going off into that dark night, we must see that in Jesus’ cross lies the power of forgiveness and full reconciliation to the One we will one day see face to face.

But it doesn’t stop there. Paul’s subsequent unraveling of what this good news means for the world remains the greatest hope of our age. Not only did Jesus defeat death at his resurrection, but he will ultimately defeat death universally when he returns from the Father’s side. He will raise from the dead all those who belong to him (i.e., who have committed their souls into his care and have believed in him). In Adam, all have died. But in Jesus, all will be made alive. Jesus is recreating the chaotic world that Adam introduced sin, suffering, and death to. Many Christians center their hopes on shuffling off this mortal coil, on escaping the world of death and pain into some detached spiritual eternity. But when we do this, we shortchange Jesus the full weight of what he went to great lengths to purchase us. Jesus will not whisk us all away from here to be in an ecstatic spiritual ether somewhere. Jesus will come and finally recreate all that has been so brutally marred by sin, suffering, and death. As Jesus said in John 11:25, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” He is the world’s only hope, and he is the only one who will bring to pass the saying, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 15:54-57).

The last note to be struck in this cosmic symphony is one of triumph. Although we are tempted to see the disparate tones as absurd, there is an undertone of purpose and direction that will one day sound forth clearly. And his name is Jesus, the one who has taken away our sins and defeated death.

Death is our greatest enemy, and we see it in such terrifying force today. In this global moment, our mortality no longer lies buried beneath important schedules and safeguards. The idea of modern security is shown for the farce that it is, and we are left desperate for answers. We realize that “everything’s gonna be okay” and “you’ll be fine” no longer suffice, because we really could become sick, and we really could die.

In times like these, we must hear the voice that entreats us. This voice is heard in 1 Corinthians 15. This voice is heard in Romans and Matthew and John—a voice that whispers along every page of the Bible. It calls us to forgiveness, reconciliation, and resurrection hope—that is, to the Lord Jesus Christ.