Listen to The Saturday Stoke
It’s a crazy time to be alive. The Coronavirus has the world in a frenzy and for good reason. In these unprecendented times, it can be hard to know how to “be.” Fear grips some. Uncertainty plagues others. Some carry on like nothing’s happening.
But I do have a few thoughts I wanted to share during these weeks of uncertainty. Because what are we if we don’t take advantage of every opportunity to encourage one another. My thoughts begin with a letter—a very old letter.
There's a second (or third) century document in the early church known as "The Letter to Diognetus: The Mystery of the New People."
The letter begins, "For the Christians cannot be distinguished from the rest of the human race by country or language or customs. They do not live in cities of their own; they do not use a peculiar form of speech; they do not follow an eccentric manner of life.
"Although they live in Greek and barbarian cities alike, as each man’s lot has been cast, and follow the customs of the country in clothing and food and other matters of daily living, at the same time they give proof of the remarkable and admittedly extraordinary constitution of their own commonwealth."
What is this "extraordinary constitution" of their own commonwealth. I like to think of it as the business of heaven—yes, heaven. That is our commonwealth. I am here, in Charlotte. I pop down to Harris Teeter for groceries, to Lowes for some pine straw, and I vote when I can. All the while, leaving trails of heaven behind me: my consumptive habits, my online interaction, my thoughts on politics. All should be dripping with heaven—representative of The Way. But how? How can living in my community reveal heaven to others? Simple: it’s the way in which we live. Not gripped with the panic of the culture. But, instead, gripped with the love of Christ.
The letter continues, "They live in their own countries, but only as aliens.They have a share in every thing as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign land is their fatherland, and yet for them every fatherland is a foreign land. They marry, like every one else, and they beget children, but they do not cast out their offspring. They share their board with each other, but not their marriage bed."
You get the sense that the early Christians did not live entitled lives. They had no internet to bolster their egos, to falsely empower their agendas, or rip on others who did not agree with them. Their humility, morality, and service was otherworldly. They lived as people not owed a debt, but rather as servants.
The letter goes on: "They busy themselves on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven. They obey the established laws, but in their own lives they go far beyond what the laws require. They love all men, and by all men are persecuted.
"They are unknown, and still they are condemned; they are put to death, and yet they are brought to life. They are poor, and yet they make many rich; they are completely destitute, and yet they enjoy complete abundance.
"They are dishonored, and in their very dishonor are glorified; they are defamed, and are vindicated. They are reviled, and yet they bless; when they are affronted, they still pay due respect."
I love this very convicting picture of the early Christians. They were able to receive insults with grace, honoring the very person casting the insult. The striking nature of their humility confounds me. It is a posture of complete grace. A grace that carries a mysterious power. It does not look for justification to lash out in a public forum. Rather, it looks for a way to give blessing in the face of slander.
And lest we think that this way of living is just for the Christian to the un-Christian world, John the Beloved reminds us that the world will know us by how we love one another, Christian love for fellow Christians.
Here’s how the letter to Diognetus concludes, "When they do good, they are punished as evildoers; undergoing punishment, they rejoice because they are brought to life.
"They are treated by the Jews as foreigners and enemies, and are hunted down by the Greeks; and all the time those who hate them find it impossible to justify their enmity.
"To put it simply: What the soul is in the body, that Christians are in the world."
“But Tim,” you say, “you seem to be encouraging us to live counterculturally in the face of persecution. This virus we face is not persecution. It’s a health hazard. What good will it do for us to try and live as the soul of the world?”
“Ah yes,” I reply, as I stir my earl grey tea with a touch of almond milk. “But Can we not gain wisdom from their actions in the face of hardship? Is not this virus a hardship? The early Christians were found to be vital to society precisely because of their extraordinary type of living. They brought heaven to earth. They were the soul of the world. When I read about how hardship and persecution did not phase the early Christians; about how their hearts were so full of love and grace, I’m encouraged to take up the same posture in our culture. When their culture bent one way, they reached heavenward. They countered the culture by showing love and grace to their communities.”
And we should follow their example.
It’s tempting to stay glued to our phones for news updates and rumors concerning the Coronavirus. We can fall into the panic trap, but that only leads to anxiety and a never-ending spiral of gossip. As the count of people infected rises, our eyes widen; as the death toll mounts fear sets in. But fear is not the way of the Christian.
Allow me to read a short excerpt from an essay C.S. Lewis wrote in 1948 titled, “On Living in an Atomic Age.” Lewis penned the piece three years after the United States dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Naturally, much of the world was gripped with fear of the bombs and of ruthless leaders like Adolf Hitler who possessed no moral compass. Lewis begins his essay with strong words:
In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. “How are we to live in an atomic age?” I am tempted to reply: “Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.”
In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors—anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty.
This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.
Present Concerns, “On Living in an Atomic Age,” 91-92.
Here’s a quick hack for how to live during these tense times: take Lewis’s advice.
Busy yourself with the good things of life. Everything is cancelled. But nothing can cancel the human spirit. Nothing can cancel the love you have for your family and friends. Nothing can cancel your relationship with God.
In the face of pandemic, there is hope. Take inspiration from the early church. They brought heaven to earth. They lived to a different cadence. Nothing shook their love for God and for one another.
Seize this Sabbath opportunity. Suddenly we find ourselves in our homes, unable to go out and do things. Instead of seeing this as a negative, look at it as a time of rejuvenation. Sit on your back porch in the evening and share a drink with your husband or wife. Walk over to your neighbors house and see how they’re doing. Go for a walk. Turn off your phone and read a book. Bake some sourdough bread.
Let’s get busy living, and bring heaven to earth.
Stay stoked my friends.
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The Saturday Stoke #28