Social distancing. Self-isolation. Overcrowded hospitals and desperate shortages of essential healthcare supplies. Economic meltdown. Fear for self or loved ones at high risk. Closure or suspension of so many cultural expressions that bring depth and joy to life ⎯ sports, concerts, museums, restaurants. The list of negative effects unleashed by the global Coronavirus pandemic can stretch for pages. Around the world, civilization as we knew it has largely ground to a sudden, screeching and violent halt.
But, though all may seem bleak and fearful right now, it is not. Simmering beneath the surface turbulence of anxiety and confusion and daily doses of grave news are hidden blessings from God, opportunities within which His people can find great hope and even counterintuitive joy.
Three of these blessings follow; undoubtedly there are many more. The first, I think, is the most stirring, and perhaps most crucial for the global body of Christ to grasp:
1. An Explosion of Gospel Opportunity
In his latest book, Reappearing Church, pastor and astute cultural commentator Mark Sayers writes, “God allows cultural crises to drive us back to Him.” A historical pattern, detectable in both the Old Testament and the Church Age, repeats itself over and over: individuals, or entire cultures and nations, turn to God in faith and flourish, but over time this faith stagnates and erodes, leading to some form of chaos and despair. It’s in these low moments that we see God move, bringing revival as people call upon God in their pain. Sayers writes, “Crises, and the transitions that they bring, are one of the critical ways that God uses to move us.” Or, as C.S. Lewis once put it, “God…shouts in our pain: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
American missiologist Ralph Winter, in an article titled “The Kingdom Strikes Back: Ten Epochs of Redemptive History,” described how crises, often the direct or indirect results of a decline of faith or missional inactivity, are a predominant means through which God has sparked renewal in the Church and propelled the Gospel to the ends of the earth. A biblical example is the “great persecution” in Acts 8 that scatters the young Church beyond its’ Jerusalem hub. But instead of eradicating this new, seemingly fragile faith, the crisis leads to its explosion throughout the Roman Empire. Other crises through the years ⎯ the Fall of Rome, the Viking incursions into Europe, the Black Plague, the moral declines that preceded the first and second Great Awakenings ⎯ have a similar effect, seasons where the light of Christ cuts through the surrounding darkness, enabling new regions and people groups to hear the Gospel.
Mark Sayers wrote Reappearing Church before the word “coronavirus” entered our everyday vernacular. He saw the cultural upheavals of our recent decades ⎯ the rise of political nationalism, epidemic loneliness and anxiety, the climate crisis, increasing social polarization, secularism solidifying into the predominant worldview of the West, and more ⎯ as rolling crises creating broad disillusionment and instability, conditions upon which a coming spiritual renewal may be built. It’s entirely plausible that this global pandemic will push things past the tipping point. Sayers even postulated this: “If we endured a global flu pandemic, like the one in the early part of the twentieth century…how we view and process our personal potentials and possibilities would be deeply shaken.” Our fragility and lack of control would be exposed, birthing intense fear and forcing a worldview reevaluation. Is this not precisely what we see happening around the globe?
Just as the crisis of persecution paved the way for the Gospel to penetrate the Roman Empire, and the Black Plague ushered in a number of social and religious dynamics that formed a seedbed for the Reformation in Europe, perhaps the coronavirus pandemic will become kindling for a new spiritual inferno.
Curiously, the Gospel has been introduced to nearly every people group in the world. The Great Commission is nearly fulfilled, in the sense of disciples being made in all nations, so the next missional wave could, according to human logic at least, be a fuller penetration of the Gospel into all peoples. Water spilled out onto porous pavement will find its way into even the tiniest pockets and fissures; so may the Gospel saturate the globe through the next great revival.
And like water flowing into every nook and cranny, coronavirus-induced social distancing and quarantine has dispersed the Church in ways not seen before. For the last few Sundays, and for a still-unknown time into the future, believers worldwide have gathered virtually, streaming church into their living rooms and offices. Instead of gathering in central locations, the body of Christ is scattered across cities and neighborhoods, local incarnations in closer proximity to the non-believing world than any Sunday gathering.
The missional potential of this new dynamic is astronomical. Not only is technology streaming millions of church services toward anyone with an internet connection, smaller communities of believers ⎯ families, neighbors, close friends ⎯ can boldly step outside their doors to love their neighbors and point them toward Christ in this time of severe anxiety and confusion. In order to do so, however, we must be willing to embrace:
2. An Acute Experience of Discomfort
Discomfort may not seem like a hidden blessing, but it offers deeper affiliation with our Savior, who had “nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). Jesus told His disciples that they’d experience trouble and suffering in this world (John 16:33), and Paul repeatedly wrote about how suffering, weakness and sharing in Christ’s afflictions produced a more joyous dependence on Christ, as well as comfort and new life in others (Romans 5:3-5, 2 Corinthians 1:3-7, 12:9-10, Colossians 1:24).
Paul D. Miller noted in a recent article, “Simply living inside the bubble of our tech-powered civilization is a form of fabulous, God-blinding wealth.” The modern world offers all manner of comforts and conveniences that give an illusion of control and security. Most of these, from a 401(k) to a smartphone that enables us to siphon part of a local supermarket’s abundance directly to our doorstep, aren’t evil in and of themselves, but our cultural affluence works as a sedative to reliance on God. Idolatry and the delusion that humans don’t need God, that we’re capable of controlling our world and providing for our own security, follow.
Reckoning with the precarious nature of the underpinnings of our cultural “affluenza,” even if only for a time, is a blessing for Christians and non-Christians alike. The coronavirus acts as a bracing wind of truth, sweeping away the fog of our self-sufficiency and allowing all humanity to see clearly our place in the world. Gone is the insulation offered by our comforts and measures of control, and each person is now given the gift of facing their own mortality. It’s a gift because it prepares the heart to embrace the need for, and the wonderful blessing of, true comfort and security in the arms of the Creator who laid down His life for them.
For Christians, this clear wind of truth brings the opportunity to refocus on our heavenly citizenship. We are not meant to find comfort in this world; we’re exiles in it, strangers passing through as ambassadors for our heavenly King. Experiencing the discomfort of our current moment, whether that comes in the form of cancelled vacations or loss of work or becoming ill, or any of the myriad hardships the pandemic will introduce, is good for our souls. It offers the opportunity to repent of whatever we have made an idol, the divine comfort of Christ meeting us in suffering, the chance to draw near to God, be renewed in our hearts, and be moved in prayer and action to contend for broader, global renewal in Christ.
This would include taking risk upon ourselves. Part of the explanation for Christianity’s global expansion down through the centuries is the role Christians played in caring for the sick, the lonely, the forgotten. As pandemics routinely plagued the ancient world, Christians gained a reputation for their willingness to minister to the sick and bury the dead, even if it meant their own sickness or death. The actions were tangible expressions of Christ’s sacrificial love. This doesn’t mean Christians should dismiss social distancing protocols or other preventative practices, but it might mean taking actions like shopping for groceries so an elderly neighbor can stay home, or volunteering in a food pantry or homeless shelter whose volunteers dwindle due to isolation measures.
Embodying this risky, scattered, countercultural faith offers the third hidden blessing of the pandemic:
3. A Deeper Solidarity with the Persecuted Church
While engaging in my church’s virtual service on Facebook live this past Sunday, I was struck by how similar “social distancing church” is to the hidden, persecuted church: gathering in homes “in secret,” yearning for the warmth and joy of in-person community, living in a time of fear and uncertainty, loss of a right to worship in public. This is a constant reality for millions of Christians around the world, and our own small taste can engender empathy, prayer and advocacy for our brothers and sisters in Christ.
The invitation to assume personal risk in order to share our faith is also an invitation to walk as our persecuted family walks. Believers in hostile environments boldly declare Christ when doing so may lead to physical harm or death; our risks of contracting a virus or experiencing a reputation hit through extending social media invitations to join our virtual church services are in most cases not so serious. But stepping into them can also deepen our love for our easily forgotten family members.
As we venture through the uncertain months ahead, I hope these three hidden blessings can buoy you. God is on the move, and through our prayers and our actions, both public and private, we have the opportunity to step into what could become another global awakening of faith in Christ.
May it be so.
Jason Weimer has served as a staff member with Cru for 18 years. He is co-author, with Roger Hershey, of The Finishers: Completing the Mission of Christ in Your Generation (find out more here) and currently serves as a writer and editor in Content and Communications Strategy at Cru’s global headquarters in Orlando.
Our own stories are powerful, and even more so once shared. As Fred Rogers put it, "never underestimate the impact that your mere existence can have on another human being."
Here with Voices, you'll have the chance to read stories from various members of our church family, each chronicling what it feels and looks like now that so many things have changed. If you’d like to comment or learn more about this series, you can reach out to us at hello@lakebaldwinchurch.com.