Fifty > Forty

I’m a words guy. Math isn’t my strong suit, despite the best efforts of Mrs. Pitts, Mrs. Fambro, Mrs. Heinz, Mr. Myles, Mrs. Easton, and Mrs. Byars. Lord knows they tried.

(Full disclosure: my math grades were fine. Math just didn’t become part of the fabric of my being as reading and writing did.)

But even with my limited mathematical prowess, I know that fifty is greater than forty. (Feel free to check my math, but I’m pretty confident about this.)

I bring this up because we have just exited the season of Lent, which lasts forty days, and have entered the season of Easter, which lasts fifty days. The Easter season begins on Easter Sunday and ends fifty days later on Pentecost (which means “Fiftieth”) Sunday. So after mourning our mortality and repenting of our sins for forty days, we celebrate resurrection and new life for fifty days.

Fifty is greater than forty.

This simple math speaks great truth.

We have much to mourn. We always do, but these days, we have the additional losses of life due to COVID-19. It is particularly sad to me that so many people are dying without the presence of loved ones, who must stay away because of the virus. If we weren’t already aware of our mortality, surely we are now (despite the fact that some people seem to think they’re immune to the risk and live in arrogant ways that put themselves and others in danger).

We have much to repent of. Some folks are quick to say that the pandemic is God’s judgment on a world that rejects God. I’m not willing to jump on that bandwagon. But I do think we should be learning some lessons and repenting of our sins. We should repent of the ways we treat and mistreat one another. We should repent of the precarious position we are too willing to let the most vulnerable among us occupy. For example: people that some of us don’t think deserve $15 an hour are risking their lives to do their essential minimum wage jobs. We also should repent of our unfortunate practices of prioritizing political loyalty over embracing the truth and of cheering falsehood while ignoring facts.

We need to keep thinking about and working on our mourning and repenting, even though this year’s Lent observance is over.

But now it’s the Easter season. We are in the season of resurrection, of life, and of hope. Fifty is greater than forty. Easter is greater than Lent.

Jesus’ resurrection means that none of the realities that threaten and frighten us—sickness, pain, sorrow, suffering, and death—have the last word. It means that other, greater realities—wholeness, joy, and life—do have the last word.

I have little patience with pious platitudes, trite tropes, and clever clichés (and also with abounding alliteration). I’m talking about sayings such as, “I fear no virus, because I trust in the Lord.” The problem with such sayings is that they don’t tell enough truth (at least they don’t in my case, and if you’re honest with yourself, they probably don’t in yours). Yes, I trust in the Lord. But this virus still scares me, not so much because of what it can do to me, but rather because of what it can do to my loved ones and to the most vulnerable in society.

When I hear someone speak a pious platitude, I tend to hear them saying, “Everything’s going to be all right someday, so I don’t really need to do anything about what’s happening today.” Now, I affirm and proclaim that, because of Jesus’ resurrection, everything is indeed going to be all right someday.

But resurrection also affects the ways we live today. Living in light of Jesus’ resurrection should mean that we will do everything we can to bring about life in the midst of death and hope in the midst of despair.

The New Testament teaches that when Jesus returns, those who have died in him will be raised to new life in him. It also teaches that the power of Jesus’ resurrection brings new life to us here and now.

When Jesus returns, everything will be one hundred percent good. Life will be everlasting. Death will be no more.

We can’t make the complete victory of life over death happen before its time. But I believe that if Christians will live in light of Jesus’ resurrection, life can eke out a slim victory over death even here, even now.

But it won’t if we don’t try.

Snake Handlers and Poison Drinkers

Modern Bible translations note that the Gospel of Mark probably originally ended at 16:8. Manuscript evidence indicates that the material found in Mark 16:9-20 was probably added a few decades after the Gospel was produced. Most of what’s in those verses is found in the other Gospels.

But Mark 16:18 has something that none of the other Gospels have. It says of believers in Jesus, “They will pick up snakes in their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them.” Some of us might be glad to know that verse isn’t part of the original Gospel. We might say, “Well, that’s not really part of the Bible, so I can ignore it.”

I wouldn’t go that far. After all, it is printed in our Bibles, even with the explanatory notes that imply that maybe it shouldn’t be, so we have to deal with it.

But I will go this far: Christians who intentionally handle poisonous snakes or intentionally drink poison, daring God to protect them, are misguided.

It’s one thing to trust in God through thick and thin, come hell or high water, in times of plenty or times of want.

It’s another thing entirely to assume that God will protect you no matter how foolish you choose to be. It’s another thing entirely to dare God to protect you. It’s another thing entirely to act as if God didn’t give you a brain and the good sense that should come with it.

There’s a difference between trusting in God and presuming upon God.

This is why churches that keep meeting during the COVID-19 crisis are doing wrong. Their pastors and members can claim to trust in God all they want. They can claim that their continuing to meet during this pandemic demonstrates their faith and courage. But they are in fact presuming upon God’s care. Non-essential businesses that stay open in the belief that God will protect their workers and customers are being presumptuous too. They are putting God to the test, which indicates a self-centered and thus inadequate view of faith.

Jesus himself gives us the example we need. We read about it in Matthew 4:

Then the devil took [Jesus] to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test’” (vv. 5-7).

Would God have protected Jesus if he had jumped off the temple? Maybe. But even if Jesus knew that God would protect him, he also knew that he shouldn’t try to make God prove it. We can’t know what Jesus knew, but we can know that we shouldn’t put God to the test either.

Besides, there’s this business of loving one another. We’re supposed to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. If we insist on continuing to participate in large gatherings, even with a faith community, we are putting other people at risk.

A meme that’s been going around on social media helps make the point. It shows someone sitting with his feet dangling off the edge of a very high cliff. At the bottom of the image are these words: “When we have nothing left but God, we discover that God is enough.”

Amen to that.

Then it continues: “But we still shouldn’t sit on cliffs. That’s just dumb.”

Amen to that too.