What the Pandemic Does [Not] Teach Us

If you are living in any part of the civilized world, you are probably aware of the international pandemic caused by the coronavirus, whether or not you have been directly touched by it. And if you are on social media at all, you have probably seen posts, memes, or articles explaining what it is that this situation teaches us. And what is very interesting about this is that this pandemic is supposed to teach us quite a wide variety of different things. So, some people say that this reminds us of the shortness of life and the importance of spending time with our families. Other people say that it should remind us of the importance of certain professions. This tendency of drawing morals out of the pandemic reaches its ludicrous climax in political circles where people from various different political persuasions will tell you solemnly and sincerely that the pandemic conclusively proves the validity of their particular political assumptions.

And I think the truth is that natural events, like a pandemic, do not teach anything at all. Wordsworth spoke of being taught by nature. C. S. Lewis responded that when we let nature teach us we learn whatever lessons we were already prepared to learn, which means simply that nature does not teach at all. Of course, there are certain physical facts about pathology that we should be able to learn from this situation, but I believe it is a fallacy to think that it could teach us about any transcendent or even political truth.

Take the most common idea that comes up in any time of crisis--the idea that the crisis teaches us of the shortness of life and the inevitability of death. That is a good lesson to learn and to remember. But the truth is that it is a lesson that we already know. If there were anyone in the world so morbidly arrogant as to believe themselves immortal than they probably still believe that--or they are dead. These disasters can remind and reinforce this truth but it could not teach it to someone who did not already believe it.

And in a broader sense, mere physical data can never yield metaphysical conclusions. It is, if you will, a scientific fact that everyone will die and that life is short. But that fact does not prove any conclusions. The shortness of life drives some people to altruism and it drives other people to hedonism. It leads some people to God and causes other people to deny God. To some, it proves that life is supremely valuable and must be protected. To others, it proves that life is worthless and might as well be ended immediately. Doctors can determine the length of life but they cannot determine the meaning of life.

In Goodwin's Caves of Fear, Rick Brant receives a telegram from a friend which is written in a code consisting entirely of numbers. While trying to decode it, he shows it to a friend who is a mathematician, who comments: “I could give you the cube root of the square of the sum of the numbers, or anything like that, but I'm afraid I wouldn't even know how to start breaking the code.” Merely knowing about numbers does not tell you what the numbers may mean. Merely knowing the facts of life does not tell you what life means. Viewing the world alone will not create a worldview. The sciences can show us the details of life, but only philosophy and theology, that is to say, religion can even attempt to show us the plan or purpose of life.

I do not mean to say (as some do) that science and religion exist in parallel, non-overlapping domains of thought, separated by walls through which no sound can penetrate. Science and religion both deal with reality and so they naturally intersect at points--especially so with the Christian religion. The study of history, of scientific origins, and of psychology all furnish data which may point to or away from Christian thought. But the point is that scientific data, in itself, does not teach any philosophical or theological lessons. The fact that the human body is an incredibly complex organism may point to the fact that it could not have come about by chance. But that does not, on its own, prove that man is the image of God with a divine purpose and destiny. The fact that the human body has a tailbone may suggest that it evolved randomly from primates. But even if that could be proved, it would not prove that man is an animal and should act like one; nor does it prove that he ought to try to evolve into something else. Scientific research may support or point to some religion or another but it cannot, on its own, teach any religion. And perhaps most importantly, the mere study of the human body as an organism will never tell you whether as humans we ought to be studying it. Science can do science but it can never offer a justification for the practice of science.

We can picture life like a ship. If you were going on a ship on a long voyage, you would want to bring a repairman to keep the ship shipshape. You would want doctors to make sure everyone remained healthy on the voyage. You might want a minstrel or two to keep the crew entertained and in good spirits for the voyage. As in Caroll's fantasy, you might have “A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--/And a Broker, to value their goods.” All these roles might be important; they might even be “essential” (a word on everyone's lips in the midst of the pandemic). But none of these jobs could, in themselves, tell you where the ship was headed or what the purpose of the voyage was. The ship's engineer can never determine a port of call by tinkering with the engine. The ship's medic cannot find out the port of departure by handing out sea-sickness pills. The ship's minstrel can belt out sea shanties until he is blue in the face but that will never tell him who built the ship or why. Neither science nor art nor medicine can ever of itself tell us the meaning or purpose of life, though once we know the meaning and purpose of life it will inform our study of science, medicine, and art. Once we know where the ship headed, that may put fresh life into the work of every member of the crew.

That is why it a fallacy to think that the pandemic can teach us anything, at least, can teach us anything about the important truths of life, though it may remind and reinforce those truths which we already know. Science (using the term broadly to refer to all observation and study of the mere facts of life) exists in asymmetrical relationship with religion (that is, any belief of the meaning and purpose of life.) Religion can produce science; it can tell us why we should study science and what we should do with the gains created by science; but science cannot produce religion.

So much for the relationship of science and religion. But what of politics? Can science produce political conclusion? Can the pandemic drive the nails into a political platform? What is the relationship between science, religion, and politics?

I am dealing here with politics as a theory, as an art, if you will. The actual corruption of politics as it exists in this (or any other) society is too well-known to be worth discussing here. And as an art, it stands in an interesting position suspended halfway between science and religion. To make this clear, think again about the picture of the ship. If the ship's navigator is going to chart a course for the ship, he must know, on one hand, exactly where the ship is going and why. And on the other hand, he must know about the state of the ship. He must know if the ship is strong enough to weather rough waters. He must know if the crew are healthy enough to stand a long voyage. He must know how many supplies are on board and where the morale of the crew is. He must both understand the facts of the ship as well as the meaning and purpose of it if he is going to chart a course successfully.

So the man who charts the course of a nation must have some philosophical or religious knowledge. He must know the meaning and purpose of life if he is going to guide the life of countless citizens. But he also must know the practical problems confronting them. He must know (or know where to learn) both scientific and philosophical facts and be able to create from between them a practical course of action.

So take the situation of the coronavirus. Whether the virus exists, how deadly the virus is, and how quickly can it spread are all scientific questions. Questions regarding the value of life, quality of life, and the relationship between freedom and responsibility are philosophical/religious questions. What the government does in response to this virus in light of the answers to these questions is a political question. (And how likely a given candidate is to make the right decision in a given situation is a question of practical politics.)

That is why I think some caution is in order regarding the church becoming involved in politics. Not that I am under the delusion (that some of my secular friends seem to be under) that any Christians intend to seize the government and set up a theocracy. Nor do I accept that curious belief prevalent in the world today that politicians should have no religious ideas and religious people should have no political ideas. As we already saw, politics necessitates some kind of religious ideology to function at all. And a man's religion will impact every aspect of his life, including his civic life. All that is simple enough. The issue comes in here. Religion, like science, deals with objective facts. Statements of religion, like statements of science, are either true or false. Religion, like science, seeks concrete, unalterable, unadulterated truth. But politics does not deal with that kind of truth. And I don't mean to make some cynical joke about the dishonesty of politicians. The statement: “Human life is sacred and should be preserved” is an absolute, binary statement. The statement: “The coronavirus is killing people” is an absolute, binary statement. Both of those must be either true or false. But the statement: “In order to save lives during this crisis we are closing down all nonessential businesses and asking citizens to stay home” is not an absolute statement; it does not have a truth-value at all. If everyone in the world agreed about the sanctity of life and the danger of the virus, we would still not all agree on the civic action necessary to meet it. Religious truth, of necessity, demands complete loyalty. The words of Scripture are abrupt and arresting and unqualified. Preachers must say: “O sinners repent”; not “Repentance seems like the best option of those presently on the table for you people some of whom might be described as sinners.” But that same abruptness and unqualified loyalty cannot be carried into politics because it does not deal with that kind of truth. Politics is, in this way, more like an art than like a science. And so, while obviously, religion does speak to political issues, we cannot treat political policies in the same way we treat religious truth. A man must be willing to go to the stake rather than sacrifice the doctrine of the imago Dei. I doubt anybody, even Donald Trump, would be willing to go to the stake rather than surrender Donald Trump's corona policy. Though we are wrong to hate even those who disagree with our religion, it is perfectly logical to say that those who worship a different god cannot worship with us in our church. It is not logical to say that those who vote for a different candidate cannot worship with us.

For those of us who believe in God, when we look at political questions, we must listen to what God says. But we must be careful not to speak for God. God has told us that certain things are right and wrong. God has not told us who to vote for. We should make that decision based on God's word, but we shouldn't make our decision to be God's word.

And by the same token, to return to the original point, we must be careful about speaking for God in relation to physical events, like the corona pandemic. We believe that God is sovereign and everything that happens in this world only happens as God allows it and so every physical event does have its place somewhere and somehow in God's plan. But that doesn't mean that, because we are God's people, we know what God's plan is. As I said before, physical events do not speak for themselves. They do not, in themselves, teach us anything. Naturalists would say that they mean nothing. We believe they mean something because they are part of the plan of God, but the only person who can say what they mean is the one who knows the plan of God--and the only one who fully knows the plan of God is God and so we know the meaning of physical events only in so far as God reveals them. So, we read in the Bible of certain events coming as a judgment for sin. But we also see very clearly that not all disasters are judgments for sin. The point is that we only know why God allows something when He tells us. And so with something like the corona pandemic, where God has not given us a revelation, we should be careful not to say what God's purpose is since our reasons are guesses at best.

Indeed, I think the truth is that God does not solely have a single purpose. There are roughly 7.8 billion people in the world and at least a majority of them have been affected by the corona pandemic in one way or another. The pandemic does not teach anyone anything. But it may be that God is using it to teach people things. It may be that God is speaking individually to each of those 7.8 billion people to teach them something different.  He may be awakening Carl (who is a party-animal) to the inevitability of death and the need of looking at the state of his own soul and He may be speaking to Isabelle (who is morbid and depressed) about the need of looking at and being concerned about other people. God may use this epidemic to remind Gabriel (who is a workaholic) to be less concerned about his work and more about his family, and He may use it to remind Michael (who is undisciplined and unfocused) about the importance of buckling down and working. God may be using this epidemic to do something distinct and important in the individual life of each person on this planet, and He may also be preparing for the future impact on the countless individuals who will follow this generation. The God who takes note of every sparrow who falls would certainly not be less exact about the human race.

And if this is the case, as I believe it is, we should stop trying to learn from the pandemic. Viruses cannot talk. Instead, at this time (as at every time) we should seek to learn from God; we should be listening to Him and trying to find what it is that He would have us learn in the midst of this crisis.