Pilgrim Road Blog Photo

Pilgrim Road Blog Photo

Thursday, March 26, 2020

The Cosmic Tragedy of Social Distancing


“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got til’ it’s gone..” ~ Joni Mitchell

Its only been a few weeks for most of us.  Weeks without a chat over coffee with a friend, participation in a Sunday worship service with voices both angelic and creaky, Friday night tacos with our besties.  Being the resourceful creatures human beings are, we’ve come up with work-arounds for our isolation.  Face Time, Zoom, Webex - these have all helped, and I’m grateful for them.  I’ve spent the last 4 days using Bomgar to train hospital employees remotely, and I thank God for that.

But there is no substitute for presence.

Nothing takes the place of looking into the eyes of another soul and seeing the one-of-a-kind strokes of the Artist who made them.  There is no substitute for the live and in person voice of the quirky guy at the gym or the warm embrace of the folks at a support group, or the thousands of other simple daily vignettes of social intercourse.

I’ve learned very quickly how much I’ve taken presence for granted.  I myself am quarantined because of contact with a person testing positive for Covid19.  I’m no hard luck case for sure.  I live with family members, I can work from home.  I’m blessed.  But I miss the physical presence of others.  And it hasn’t even been a couple of weeks.

This strange time we’re living in has me thinking and praying in ways I haven’t before.  I look at Abraham in the bible, whittling away at God in a conversation about his nephew Lot, as he presses to see just how deep the mercy of God will actually go. Abraham is right in God’s face, boldly stepping closer with each question:  “Will you spare the city for the sake of 40 righteous people…30…20…10”.   Abraham didn’t stand stoically before a cold, distant deity, observing all the proprieties of servant and king.  Abraham boldly pleaded for his kinsmen, and the scriptures actually call him “a friend of God”.  The wicked city fell, but not before Lot and his family were ushered out of there in the most hurried move in history.  

Abraham did not practice social distancing with his God.  Neither did David, Isaiah, Daniel, and a whole host of lesser known saints sited in the pages of the wild and powerful word of life.  

The greatest tragedy of all, far more deadly than any foul microbe, is a life lived in isolation from the One who created us for Himself.  Here is God’s great sorrow.  He has made us for true presence with Him, and we have run from Him.  Or ignored Him. Or hated Him.  

In a herculean move of self abasement, this High King of all so desired our presence that He actually shed His kingly garments in exchange for the soiled robes of men. He himself took on our weakness.  And He did what only He could do: He destroyed the pestilence that keeps us apart.  He himself became the remedy and antidote for the killer with a 100% death rate.  Sin.  

The Gospel is the beautiful breakthrough that saves the world from the disease which none of us can escape.  The heart of God is broken.  He seeks for people who will talk to him, listen to Him, come to Him for life and deliverance.  There is no substitute for life with our Father.  

The Covid19 pandemic has become for me a metaphor and a grace.  It has forced me to look at my own spiritual complacency, made me far more grateful, and caused me to become a little bit more like Abraham.  Every day I desperately need the intimacy with my Father that I was born for.  And what’s more, I can approach Him without shame despite my sin and weakness.  Because I’ve taken the cure - faith in the death and resurrection of the Son of God, who “loved us, and gave Himself for us.”

I am praying that brilliant and resourceful people will find a way through this twilight zone we are living in.  I look forward to baseball, dinner in a restaurant and getting my hair cut again.  But my greatest prayer is that this social distancing will cause the world to seek the One whose heart longs for fellowship with us - and not from a distance.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,


Loriann