You are probably thinking that this blog, based on the title, has got to be a couple of months too late to connect to our current circumstances. I would disagree, because the last time I went to Costco, there still wasn’t any veggie lasagna (for my wife), diced tomatoes (for me to make salsa), or bananas. If you haven’t noticed, shopping is hard in the apocalypse.

Lately, whenever I go to the store, my wife will give me a list and say, “Don’t forget to look for toilet paper.” Honestly, I feel like I have PLENTY of toilet paper (except for when Phill and Jenna Heuchert come over and their daughter Annie decides to put a whole roll down the toilet). We have rolls and rolls, but my wife just says, “It’s the apocalypse and it’s ‘just in case.’”

Right now I have a humongous bag of rice, a 50-pound bag of sugar, three of those Costco-sized bags of frozen chicken, sixteen pounds of butter, and 12 packs of bacon (yes, the only one that is understandable is the bacon). You would think I was packing for the Oregon Trail. The cold items sit in the freezer in the garage. That’s not an invitation to help yourself…don’t even think about stealing my bacon. 

Maybe I am the guy who would end up starving in the apocalypse because I don’t hoard, worry, or buy twenty times what I actually need in a crisis. My wife would be the one eating food for years while I wondered why I couldn’t charge my newest electronic device that I thought was more important than food. I guess what I am saying is, we need each other to stay sane and not go too far overboard. I buy the food stuffs my wife wants because I love her, and she curbs some of her more pessimistic tendencies because I don’t freak out a lot (unless we run out of bacon…which again, won’t happen).

Right now our city, county, state, nation, and world are at a bizarre type of crossroads between people who are worried about the pandemic and those who don’t care or think it is a hoax. Much of the discourse has become political, especially in churches that have been ordered to shut down indoor, in-person gatherings again. One side sees it as a public health issue and the other sees it as a personal rights issue…and I feel like I am caught in the middle of it all because, for some bizarre reason, I can see both sides. 

I am frustrated about the inconsistency of government orders about masks, distancing, what they allow to open, and what they don’t. I wonder how we are supposed to eventually gain immunity to the virus if we refuse to engage in real life. I actually worry about the state of the economy, small businesses, and how people are meant to survive as our national debt climbs past 26 trillion dollars (a truly unfathomable number). But then I also look at the numbers of infections, the speed at which the virus spreads, the experts who speak about it (some of which are strong believers in Jesus), and my own lack of real understanding of the science of virology. I know that I must come to at least try to understand all sides of this if I ever hope to engage in a way that brings wisdom or peace to this situation.

All too often we focus on the problem, whether it is government overreach or the virus itself. As humans we tend absorb ourselves in what is right in front of us instead of what is eternal…and that is where part of my job comes in. Element, our focus should be first and foremost, Jesus. Only by the Gospel being central to what we do and say, will we ever be able to meaningfully engage in the world. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9:22-23 “I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.”

We don’t become all things to all people so that they would be angry at the government or fear the virus; we do it so that we can help them to share in the Gospel’s blessings. The scriptures are clear that we need each other—God made us that way. We will never share blessings with one another until we are able to understand one another. This is important to remember during a time when it’s common to throw memes and clichés at each other. Some people worry about the virus and stay home, some people think it’s a hoax—but why do each feel the way they do? Can we respect one another enough to listen? Maybe, as a result, we would be filled with compassion and have a broader perspective.

In the end, we must realize that our lives will not be saved by what we believe about the virus. The virus is not eternal—we as God’s people are. We are saved by God’s eternal work accomplished in the person of Christ. When our focus becomes God’s redeeming work in us, we can overlook how we differ from one another and still have meaningful fellowship and conversation…even while we disagree about how much toilet paper or bacon we need to buy.