Coronavirus and Comfort

With all the coronavirus concerns sweeping the country, pressure is now being applied to churches to engage in all kinds of preventative measures, even, sadly, to the abandonment of the chalice in favor of individual cups.

Certainly there are helpful steps we can all take to inhibit the spread of disease, and the list of those steps, which all involve a healthy dose of common sense, is already pretty well known, though a review is always a good idea. Common sense is always in order: don’t cough on people, cough into your sleeve if you must, avoid touching your face, wash your hands, stay at home if you have a fever, take care of yourself, etc. And when there’s a pandemic afoot, additional measures are certainly prudent as well.

Yet I’m going to suggest a different kind of warning. My own concern is that while we want to be prudent in the application of preventative measures (especially in a crisis), there’s a kind of excess that also can potentially accompany a sudden blanketing of a congregation with these kinds of measures, however necessary the precautions might be. It might also have the undesirable side-effect of raising fear and panic among the membership. We do not want to add to the fears of people. Pastors are not public health officials. They are, well, pastors: their chief concern ought to be the comfort of troubled sheep, not the exacerbation of their fears. We must not panic; we must never panic. We must not allow ourselves to be thrust into the undesirable position of making it our aim to allay fears by telling people what they should be doing for their safety. For our genuine safety is only in Christ, and not in ourselves. As ever, if you fear anything, it is time to believe the Gospel, receive Christ, trust him, and you shall be saved.

It’s possible that the coronavirus could reach epidemic proportions in our own communities; who knows, we might even be tragically obliged to shut our doors altogether for a number of weeks, as happened when the swine flu swept across the land in 1918, and beg God fervently for his mercy. I do suspect that in this case the threat will soon pass, as it did in the days of the H1N1 virus, SARS, the Vika virus, and others. Reports are that in China, where this all began, the crisis is already passing. But admittedly I could be wrong about that, for no one knows the future. One thing I know is that it is the business of the church to comfort, not to alarm, the fearful.

Some of our churches are temporarily avoiding shaking hands and the passing of offering plates. Following the directives of our government is also a proper step to take, in accordance with the Fourth Commandment.

But what of the chalice? Is it now at last time to abandon this too? Is this also a common sense step we should now take?

Here we must take most seriously the fact that since that the Body and Blood of Christ is the medicine of immortality, no Christian should be afraid of receiving the Blessed Sacrament, nor of receiving it in the way that Christ gave it.  This is a matter for faith: of believing that this Supper will not harm you, but help you, even to the point of providing the antidote for death itself.

Secondly, we are reminded about the way in which our Lord instituted this Supper: he took the cup (singular), and gave it to his disciples, saying, Drink of it, all of you. We know that Jesus was not short-sighted. Most assuredly, he knew exactly what he was doing.

It won’t hurt to mention that the alcoholic content of the wine used and the precious metal of the chalice are already strong impediments to the spread of disease.

There’s another bit of theology at work here, which is that Jesus did not make it his mission to warn people of the sensible steps we may now take to prevent the spread of disease. Consider the once-abundant use of the holy kiss. This was, in Jesus’ day, a full osculation, on the lips (as Augustine and others attest, for which see, briefly, here), to show affection between Christians. Even Judas’ kiss in betrayal provides evidence that this form of greeting was common. The apostles promoted and encouraged its use (see Romans 16:16, 1 Corinthians 16:20, 2 Corinthians 13:12, 1 Thessalonians 5:26, 1 Peter 5:14). Custom and culture have largely eliminated this practice, at least the lips-to-lips element of it, and there is no recommendation here to re-institute it. Nevertheless it is an important factor in our own discussion. Jesus, who knows all things, knew that this was unquestionably a way of spreading disease, even if no one else knew. But this was not his concern.

He is the Good Physician, but his healing is not merely temporal. Even his very healing of diseased people was in token of his capacity to make all things new. He came to bring eternal salvation, and the antidote for death itself. He came to save the lost, not merely to make them temporarily disease free.

The world has seen horrific natural disasters throughout history, including the Black Death of 1347-50, when one-third of Europe died. The grim reality of this life is that we are mortal, and vulnerable to all manner of disease and trouble; and no amount of precautions can change that fact. Barring the return of Christ during our lifetimes, we are all going to die. And sometimes that reality becomes more frightening than others. And as beneficial as various health tips might be, the Church’s mission is still the same: to stand in the gap and to embrace her children as a loving and comforting Mother, to face down the fearsome enemy that death is, and to say to the children with angels and with Jesus himself, Fear not.