Abnormal Is Normal

May 20, 2020

Abnormal is the new normal. In my wildest dreams, I never would have seen myself going into the sheriff’s office and county jail while wearing a mask. I never would have imagined I’d hear our governor taking it upon himself to dictate to churches and synagogues the conditions as to when and how religious services could take place. I’m used to the shoe being on the other foot, with a clear wedge being driven between church and state. That people would be forced to die alone without the comfort of a family member by their side would have been unthinkable. And I wouldn’t have thought  people would be so afraid that they were unwilling to meet for dinner with family. But that is the world we’re living in today.

This afternoon, my son Matt and I took a long-awaited motorcycle ride to Pennsylvania. My pistol permit application had been approved for renewal, and I needed to pick it up. At the sheriff’s office. Wearing a mask. Had I tried that a year ago, I probably would have been shown the accommodations. But today, nobody panicked. They didn’t even flinch. 

Later, I read about our governor’s edict giving permission and guidelines for the opening of churches. A statement like this a year ago would have spawned outrage; “The government has no business telling churches what they can and cannot do.” Today, it’s barely a blip on the radar. Because of fear. People are afraid; afraid for themselves, afraid for their loved ones, just plain scared.

I read once that the most common command in the Bible is, “Don’t be afraid,” or “fear not!” I haven’t actually counted, but someone said that command is found 365 times, one for every day of the year. That exact number may not be exact, but it is a frequent command for a very good reason: there is much in this world to be afraid of. Those of us who grew up in the suburbs, went to college, and built a middle-class life for ourselves have been largely insulated from the fear that rages in the breasts of many people around the world. I don’t know what it’s like growing up in the projects, regularly hearing gunfire as rival gangs take pot shots at each other. I haven’t experienced close up and personal the heart-pounding fear of sweeping a village in Afghanistan or Iraq, wondering if an IED lay just under the dust waiting to blow my legs off. I didn’t experience the horrors of Auschwitz or the Soviet gulags. 

There is much in this world to fear, and often it comes in the form of someone with a Pepsodent smile and a three-piece suit telling me how he is going to make my life better and safer. But I wonder at what price?

I grew up in a family where safety was ingrained in us. Taking unnecessary risks was frowned upon. It was a plain white vanilla world. I’m not complaining and I’m not blaming; it’s just the way life was for me. As a teenager, I remember hearing that “the safest place to be is in the center of God’s will.” I wonder who made up that bit of drivel? Being in the center of God’s will is like having a target on your back. In the parable of the Talents, the condemnation was saved for the one man who refused to risk the master’s money. By contrast, the risk-takers were commended. I have no death wish, and no desire to make life more difficult for anyone else, but neither do I have a desire to merely live safely. What kind of life is that? Jesus calls us to a life of risk and danger. If you don’t believe me, read it for yourself in Mark 8:34 and 35. The cross Jesus demands that we carry isn’t a bangle we wear around our necks; it is an instrument of cruel death. No one genuinely follows Jesus who refuses a cross. 

I am concerned about the future I see, but I am not afraid. When things get to their worst, Jesus told us to “look up, for your redemption draws near” (Luke 21:28). Things can get worse—lots worse, but our God is still in control, so I choose to look to him, to keep my heart and mind settled in the Scriptures which assure me that though there is much that is fearful, I do not need to be afraid, for Jesus Christ who was crucified for our sins, was buried and is risen, ascended, and seated at the right hand of the Father, holding all authority in heaven and earth. And we are risen and seated with him, to God be the glory! In a greater way than we could have imagined, God has turned the tables on this tired old world, and in him, the abnormal is normal: in fearful times, we are not afraid.