Where is God?
Where is God?
Ezekiel 37:1-14, Psalm 130, Romans 8:6-11, John 11:1-45
I don’t think that there’s anyone who can’t relate to the first verse of today’s Psalm, 130. in the past weeks:
Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord;
Lord, hear my voice; *let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
We have prayed hard as we watch the coronavirus spread across the country. We have worked hard at trying to limit its damage to our bodies, our society, and our economy. We have looked to the government for help, and are confused when we see faces staring back at us. I follow a private COVID-19 healthcare provider board on FaceBook, participated mostly by nurses. The posts are at once humbling, heroic, poignant, and horrific. It is also a glimpse into what Italy has been facing for the past month. There are posts about the strain on healthcare workers of taking care of large numbers of patients, the emotional overload of being at risk and becoming a patient themselves, and the agony of not having the resources to save every life. They need as much care as the patients they work on, but a different kind of care that tends to the emotional and spiritual wounds created by being in such dire circumstances. We outside of healthcare are equally affected by the decisions to be made about the sick and dying. Those wounds are hard to heal, though, when it seems that God has been hidden by the pandemic, separated from us.
I have also heard sentiments echoed in Jesus’ words where he says “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” as a response to his call to come heal Lazarus. Applied out of the context of Lazarus’ death, that saying has the potential to trivialize the suffering and death of those infected with COVID-19. It also dismisses the grief of loved ones and healthcare providers, as if they are being selfish in experiencing and expressing the overwhelming emotions of mourning rather than praising God aloud. It contributes to not taking seriously the pandemic and the potential for more human cost than has already been exacted. The emotions and pain we experience are real and need to be acknowledged on their own terms, otherwise we die spiritually as Lazarus died physically.
There was a sobering article in the on-line magazine Quartz that came across my news feed this week, talking about the ethics of treating the afflicted when resources are scarce, and it has provoked a struggle within me about how we are versus how we should be responding to the pandemic. One of the major concerns and limitations of our healthcare delivery system is that people with advanced COVID-19 infections need to be placed on a mechanical ventilator to breath for them while their lungs heal. However, we do not have enough ventilators to meet the projected need in the coming weeks. Social distancing and shutting down businesses have not worked to slow the spread of infection. Someone, meaning the doctors and nurses caring for infected patients, will have to decide who will be placed on a ventilator, and who will not and subsequently die. The article mentions three different moral positions that have been used to discuss such strategy and policy as ventilators in Washington State, New York City, and now Florida run low: Utilitarianism, Contractarianism, and Deontology.
Utilitarianism says that moral actions are determined by their result, so we should do as much as we can to do the most good. If that is applied to the use of a limited number of ventilators in the country, the first people to need them would be saved, leaving people in need later on to go without and die. The daily number of new infections is still increasing, meaning that the demand for ventilators is increasing beyond what we have available. Utilitarianism by itself offers no moral response toward those in need of a ventilator. Contractarianism states that everyone should have equal access to what they need, regardless of their social position or status. It is a morality of fairness based on a social contract, where those in need of ventilators are not denied them based on economic status, age, gender, or race. Such a moral stance seeks to save as many lives as possible, but creates a moral gray area of deciding which one of several patients will be hooked up to the only ventilator available.
Deontology states that it is the action itself that determines its morality, the opposite of Utilitarianism. Every person who needs a ventilator should get one as a just and equitable response to their need, which implies an obligation to provide a ventilator to everyone in need. But, this moral position is only applicable when there are ventilators available, and is no longer valid when there are no more ventilators or other resources. Deontology has the concerning potential to fall into the “the means justifies the ends” mindset where harmful actions are justified because those who do them feel that they are doing good. This has been exemplified by discussions of placing two or more patients on a single ventilator, which could harm one patient as it helps another. It is also the moral position in which Jesus’ words “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory” are interpreted to mean that COVID-19 is to be endured to glorify God. That view is of a sadistic God who takes pleasure in our suffering as part of our glorification of God. It is not the view of God who sent his only Son into the world because God loves us so much.
All three moral positions arrive at the same conclusion about ventilators and other medical resources that are inadequate to meet the need: that some people, innocent in whatever moral position is applied to them, will die a preventable death. We will soon be in a situation where we will have failed in our moral duty to protect and save those in need, further contributing to our sin and reflecting the brokenness of the world. We will have put ourselves in the place of God, unfit in our sinfulness to determine who will live because a ventilator is available, and who will die without one. This is a bleak picture, painted in despair, and it is demoralizing. It is a reminder that as much as we try, we are not in full control of the world, nor can we always adhere to our moral beliefs. We believe that we have failed ourselves, we have failed each other, and we have failed God. And as much as we search for God surrounded by the dead that we could not save, we cannot even see God.
In the reading from Ezekiel, we hear that Ezekiel is commanded by God to prophesy to a valley of dried-out bones that they will live again, and in three rounds of prophecy, God brings the dead Israelites back to life to lead them back to their given land. Those who died are raised from the dead by God, a theme we will celebrate in two weeks at Easter when we proclaim that Jesus has himself been raised from the dead. This can be the story of those rescued by available ventilators, raised from certain death by medical intervention. It can be their resurrection to a new life, brought on through the call to do the work of God through the hands of nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, and other allied health professionals. Their dedication to treat the sick and dying and preserve life is by itself giving glory to God. But it still does not help us reconcile the deaths we could have prevented.
The healthcare professionals in Italy have already faced the horror of having to decide who lives and who dies because of limited resources, and the same will happen in New York soon, if it hasn’t happened already. The emotional and spiritual toll of making such decisions in a no-win situation is and will be a terrible wound that is slow to heal. Paul’s words to the Romans can begin to address that wound where he says,
“But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.
That wound, caused by failure of the flesh, can be healed by understanding that it is the Holy Spirit that renews us spiritually when we fail. When we do God’s work through the power of the Spirit within us, we are following God’s will for us and for the world. If a patient dies in impossible circumstances because there is no ventilator available, it is not us, or the Holy Spirit, or God who fails. It is rather a moment when we recognize our limits as humans and understand that God’s grace comes to us through the Spirit. It is the Spirit that having delivered grace to us, now invites us to fiercely and courageously act in the face of death. The fact that we grieve over unavoidable death and are brought to our knees by the weight of responsibility for that death is an indication of righteousness before God. We have acknowledged that death is inevitable, and it is God’s compassion and empathy, borne on that grace, that we bring to the dying. When we choose to confront unavoidable death, we are responding to the grace of God. When we accept our limitations and know that we have been guided by the Spirit, the wounds begin to heal.
It is a difficult thing to watch as people die, who we could otherwise save. Jesus experienced that same difficulty when Mary said to him that Lazarus, her brother, would still be alive if Jesus had not waited to come to Bethany. Jesus, the Word of God made flesh, was overcome by the human emotions of grief and sorrow. And on Good Friday Jesus, Emmanuel, or God with us, suffered and died on the cross himself. God knows and understands all of the emotions we have experienced so far because Jesus experienced them just like we do. God will continue to experience the despair of family and healthcare providers as COVID-19 takes more and more lives. God through Jesus meets us when and where we suffer for any reason, and helps us overcome death and our experience of the pandemic through Jesus’ suffering and death. We are not alone.
God is with us and knows the depth of pain and anguish we face as we decide how to best use our finite resources to do God’s work in the world. God is greater than death, and even though many more will die, it is the will of God, through the hands and hearts of all of us, that will prevail over death. Every life lost to the virus will be resurrected in Christ, every life that is saved will have been resurrected from death, and every choice made by healthcare workers is resurrected into God’s grace. People are sharing that grace with each other as they separate themselves from the vulnerable, or run errands for those who cannot get out. They, and the healthcare workers are evidence that God is present among us, and that there is still good in the world despite the evil of the coronavirus. That is the glory of God, who is present in the world.
Ezekiel 37:1-14, Psalm 130, Romans 8:6-11, John 11:1-45
I don’t think that there’s anyone who can’t relate to the first verse of today’s Psalm, 130. in the past weeks:
Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord;
Lord, hear my voice; *let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
We have prayed hard as we watch the coronavirus spread across the country. We have worked hard at trying to limit its damage to our bodies, our society, and our economy. We have looked to the government for help, and are confused when we see faces staring back at us. I follow a private COVID-19 healthcare provider board on FaceBook, participated mostly by nurses. The posts are at once humbling, heroic, poignant, and horrific. It is also a glimpse into what Italy has been facing for the past month. There are posts about the strain on healthcare workers of taking care of large numbers of patients, the emotional overload of being at risk and becoming a patient themselves, and the agony of not having the resources to save every life. They need as much care as the patients they work on, but a different kind of care that tends to the emotional and spiritual wounds created by being in such dire circumstances. We outside of healthcare are equally affected by the decisions to be made about the sick and dying. Those wounds are hard to heal, though, when it seems that God has been hidden by the pandemic, separated from us.
I have also heard sentiments echoed in Jesus’ words where he says “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” as a response to his call to come heal Lazarus. Applied out of the context of Lazarus’ death, that saying has the potential to trivialize the suffering and death of those infected with COVID-19. It also dismisses the grief of loved ones and healthcare providers, as if they are being selfish in experiencing and expressing the overwhelming emotions of mourning rather than praising God aloud. It contributes to not taking seriously the pandemic and the potential for more human cost than has already been exacted. The emotions and pain we experience are real and need to be acknowledged on their own terms, otherwise we die spiritually as Lazarus died physically.
There was a sobering article in the on-line magazine Quartz that came across my news feed this week, talking about the ethics of treating the afflicted when resources are scarce, and it has provoked a struggle within me about how we are versus how we should be responding to the pandemic. One of the major concerns and limitations of our healthcare delivery system is that people with advanced COVID-19 infections need to be placed on a mechanical ventilator to breath for them while their lungs heal. However, we do not have enough ventilators to meet the projected need in the coming weeks. Social distancing and shutting down businesses have not worked to slow the spread of infection. Someone, meaning the doctors and nurses caring for infected patients, will have to decide who will be placed on a ventilator, and who will not and subsequently die. The article mentions three different moral positions that have been used to discuss such strategy and policy as ventilators in Washington State, New York City, and now Florida run low: Utilitarianism, Contractarianism, and Deontology.
Utilitarianism says that moral actions are determined by their result, so we should do as much as we can to do the most good. If that is applied to the use of a limited number of ventilators in the country, the first people to need them would be saved, leaving people in need later on to go without and die. The daily number of new infections is still increasing, meaning that the demand for ventilators is increasing beyond what we have available. Utilitarianism by itself offers no moral response toward those in need of a ventilator. Contractarianism states that everyone should have equal access to what they need, regardless of their social position or status. It is a morality of fairness based on a social contract, where those in need of ventilators are not denied them based on economic status, age, gender, or race. Such a moral stance seeks to save as many lives as possible, but creates a moral gray area of deciding which one of several patients will be hooked up to the only ventilator available.
Deontology states that it is the action itself that determines its morality, the opposite of Utilitarianism. Every person who needs a ventilator should get one as a just and equitable response to their need, which implies an obligation to provide a ventilator to everyone in need. But, this moral position is only applicable when there are ventilators available, and is no longer valid when there are no more ventilators or other resources. Deontology has the concerning potential to fall into the “the means justifies the ends” mindset where harmful actions are justified because those who do them feel that they are doing good. This has been exemplified by discussions of placing two or more patients on a single ventilator, which could harm one patient as it helps another. It is also the moral position in which Jesus’ words “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory” are interpreted to mean that COVID-19 is to be endured to glorify God. That view is of a sadistic God who takes pleasure in our suffering as part of our glorification of God. It is not the view of God who sent his only Son into the world because God loves us so much.
All three moral positions arrive at the same conclusion about ventilators and other medical resources that are inadequate to meet the need: that some people, innocent in whatever moral position is applied to them, will die a preventable death. We will soon be in a situation where we will have failed in our moral duty to protect and save those in need, further contributing to our sin and reflecting the brokenness of the world. We will have put ourselves in the place of God, unfit in our sinfulness to determine who will live because a ventilator is available, and who will die without one. This is a bleak picture, painted in despair, and it is demoralizing. It is a reminder that as much as we try, we are not in full control of the world, nor can we always adhere to our moral beliefs. We believe that we have failed ourselves, we have failed each other, and we have failed God. And as much as we search for God surrounded by the dead that we could not save, we cannot even see God.
In the reading from Ezekiel, we hear that Ezekiel is commanded by God to prophesy to a valley of dried-out bones that they will live again, and in three rounds of prophecy, God brings the dead Israelites back to life to lead them back to their given land. Those who died are raised from the dead by God, a theme we will celebrate in two weeks at Easter when we proclaim that Jesus has himself been raised from the dead. This can be the story of those rescued by available ventilators, raised from certain death by medical intervention. It can be their resurrection to a new life, brought on through the call to do the work of God through the hands of nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, and other allied health professionals. Their dedication to treat the sick and dying and preserve life is by itself giving glory to God. But it still does not help us reconcile the deaths we could have prevented.
The healthcare professionals in Italy have already faced the horror of having to decide who lives and who dies because of limited resources, and the same will happen in New York soon, if it hasn’t happened already. The emotional and spiritual toll of making such decisions in a no-win situation is and will be a terrible wound that is slow to heal. Paul’s words to the Romans can begin to address that wound where he says,
“But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.
That wound, caused by failure of the flesh, can be healed by understanding that it is the Holy Spirit that renews us spiritually when we fail. When we do God’s work through the power of the Spirit within us, we are following God’s will for us and for the world. If a patient dies in impossible circumstances because there is no ventilator available, it is not us, or the Holy Spirit, or God who fails. It is rather a moment when we recognize our limits as humans and understand that God’s grace comes to us through the Spirit. It is the Spirit that having delivered grace to us, now invites us to fiercely and courageously act in the face of death. The fact that we grieve over unavoidable death and are brought to our knees by the weight of responsibility for that death is an indication of righteousness before God. We have acknowledged that death is inevitable, and it is God’s compassion and empathy, borne on that grace, that we bring to the dying. When we choose to confront unavoidable death, we are responding to the grace of God. When we accept our limitations and know that we have been guided by the Spirit, the wounds begin to heal.
It is a difficult thing to watch as people die, who we could otherwise save. Jesus experienced that same difficulty when Mary said to him that Lazarus, her brother, would still be alive if Jesus had not waited to come to Bethany. Jesus, the Word of God made flesh, was overcome by the human emotions of grief and sorrow. And on Good Friday Jesus, Emmanuel, or God with us, suffered and died on the cross himself. God knows and understands all of the emotions we have experienced so far because Jesus experienced them just like we do. God will continue to experience the despair of family and healthcare providers as COVID-19 takes more and more lives. God through Jesus meets us when and where we suffer for any reason, and helps us overcome death and our experience of the pandemic through Jesus’ suffering and death. We are not alone.
God is with us and knows the depth of pain and anguish we face as we decide how to best use our finite resources to do God’s work in the world. God is greater than death, and even though many more will die, it is the will of God, through the hands and hearts of all of us, that will prevail over death. Every life lost to the virus will be resurrected in Christ, every life that is saved will have been resurrected from death, and every choice made by healthcare workers is resurrected into God’s grace. People are sharing that grace with each other as they separate themselves from the vulnerable, or run errands for those who cannot get out. They, and the healthcare workers are evidence that God is present among us, and that there is still good in the world despite the evil of the coronavirus. That is the glory of God, who is present in the world.
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