A Sermon from Lent 3

Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

I love the story of the woman at the well and had prepared an exciting sermon to explore our Gospel reading. But the rapidly changing news about COVID-19, or coronavirus, is worth addressing from the pulpit today. It’s a time of uncertainty and disruption in our life together, and it’s easy for those feelings to manifest in anxiety, panic, or fear. Or perhaps, seeing the alarm around us, we remain skeptical that coronavirus is really such a big deal in the first place. 

Our Collect for the Day, the prayer that orders this morning’s worship, calls us to remember God’s faithfulness even when we feel overwhelmed — when we feel vulnerable, powerless, or mistrustful. In the chaos and clamor of the present moment, I invite you to listen carefully to the wisdom we find in our common prayer. As our communities discern ways to better care for one another during this season, let us trust God to lead us in hope — and let us spread that hope with one another .

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The Collect begins with our powerlessness: “Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves.” We often live with an illusion of control, that we are capable, self-sufficient, and can handle our own problems. When we encounter situations that prove us wrong — broken relationships, financial hardships, medical crises — we often feel frustrated by our own powerlessness.

People react in different ways when they realize they’re not in control. Some folks fall into despair, lost in fear and depression. Some people ignore the problem—it will resolve itself on its own. Some people overreact, trying to overcome what they can’t control by doing a lot of things that they cancontrol… like, hoarding toilet paper!

For Christians, the healthy response to our powerlessness is to accept and name it. I can’t research a cure to coronavirus. I can’t pass legislation to protect people who are medically or financially vulnerable. I can’t stock all the shelves at my grocery store with essentials. Once we have accepted what is out of our control, we can turn instead to a more measured and faithful response.

We realize that our values of individualism and self-sufficiency so quickly turn into idols of selfishness and pride. We can’t manage life on our own, especially in times of uncertainty. We rely on medical professionals to keep us healthy, we rely on public officials to enact proactive and commonsense policies, and we rely on the faithful supermarket shelf-stockers to provide us with food.  

With talks of quarantine and social distancing, it seems ironic to say that we need to come together. But that is precisely what we can do — we can accept the ways we are powerless, admit we are beholden to one another, and prayerfully join Christ in caring for our neighbors .

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Our Collect prays, “May we be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body.” You’ve heard the advice from medical professionals: wash your hands well and often; avoid large gatherings; stay home if you have symptoms or are vulnerable. There are a number of common-sense actions we can take to protect one another, many of which we’ve implemented in our worship this morning.

But when we think about bodies, we should think about more than individual health. We should be thinking about the body of Christ, that is, the wider body of our community. Our response to coronavirus does more than preserve single bodies but strives to care for our corporate body.

That’s the idea behind “social distancing,” the principle which caused our governor to declare a state of disaster and close schools. By taking steps to control how we gather together, we can slow the spread of the virus in our society. We avoid overburdening our healthcare system. We ensure that we have the time and resources to care for the sick and research long term solutions. 

This disruption might seem like an overreaction, but in truth it is a measured way to show love to a community. I want to reassure you — social distancing is not a result of panic, but of thoughtful concern for our corporate body. Pray for schools, churches, and workplaces around the country as we all try to discern the best way to care for one another.

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Our Collect also prays that God would guard us “from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul.” Fear, panic, and anxiety can spread just as quickly as any virus. The church’s role is to safeguard the souls of our communities from these kinds of infections. While I may not be able to research cures for coronavirus, I’m happy to report that the church has long been in the business of helping to heal sick souls.  

I read an essay this week written by the theologian Martin Luther, with the riveting title: “Whether One May Flee from the Deadly Plague.” It reminded me that the church is an organization uniquely prepared for a pandemic, as we have a long institutional memory. This isn’t our first rodeo! Throughout history the church has responded to crises with creativity and hope, finding ways to serve and worship God amid uncertain times. 

We should remember that a persistent climate of panic, ignorance, and selfishness can cause real spiritual damage. Instead of hoarding resources, we should be looking for ways to care for one another. We should especially be mindful of those who are susceptible to loneliness and isolation. Let us be a people of faith, hope, and love to show others a holier way to live through anxious times. We can prove that kindness, generosity, and compassion can be contagious too! 

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Our Collect ends with the familiar refrain, “through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever.” No matter what happens, we are sustained through this season by the grace of Jesus Christ: the same yesterday, today, and forever 

We need that kind of perspective. Everything seems urgent when the situation changes from hour to hour but remember that God has been faithful to us across the wide expanse of human history. One of my favorite lines from the prayer book says, “Be present, O merciful God… so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness.” Our hope is rooted in the truth that salvation will come from the God who has always been on our side. And salvation belongs not only to individuals, but to our communities — indeed, God promises health and reconciliation to the whole world.

No matter how overwhelming this season feels right now, it is smaller than God’s love for you. I earnestly hope this sermon ages poorly, that in a week or two things look like business as usual. But times of crisis can sometimes be an opportunity. Let this be a chance for us to remember what really matters, a chance to clearly see the fragile beauty of our common life. Let us see the possibilities, in the face of anxiety and uncertainty, to celebrate the restorative love of Jesus Christ.

Amen.