Meditating in the Field—Singapore
He shall
cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come near you. (Ps 91:4–7)
As I reflected on these verses, I was into
my fourth day of self-isolation. That day, I also became part of national
statistics of confirmed COVID-19 cases. Sore throat, fatigue, headache, and
body ache. “Get some food at the supermarket and go home to rest. Drink more
water ah, ah-girl,” the doctor instructed. In my drowsiness, I nodded
obediently, saluted him, and wondered how the old man before me could withstand
the virulence of COVID-19 when seeing so many patients in a day. At home,
drifting in and out of consciousness between bouts of coughing and throat
pain-induced silence, I endured on. In the liminal space between life and
death, my mind began to wander. Has God’s arm been shortened? Have I become
one of the thousands and ten thousands that fell beside me? In theory, we
should not fear, but in practice, we all do. Can the discrepancy between the
Scripture and the number that reflects the reality of sickness and death be
reconciled? Especially when the number also includes many who have been
faithful to the Lord.
My fragmented thoughts were intermittently interrupted
by the screaming of ambulance sirens in the distance.
Since the pandemic outbreak at the end of
2019, the world has danced with the virus as it moves and mutates. People,
capitals, and commodities that once circulated en
mass around the globe came to a standstill. In April 2020, the densely
populated city-state of Singapore implemented its first circuit-breaker (or
lockdown) in an effort to curb the viral infection. Changi Airport, which once
thronged with travelers, became eerily empty. Responding to the choreography of
the virus, people put on masks, rubbed hands with sanitizers, washed hands,
maintained safe distancing, and scanned their phones upon entering public spaces.
Passersby walked briskly through the Central Business District along Orchard
Road, gazing downward with anxiety perched on their brows. As the choreography
of the virus evolved, people configured and reconfigured their gatherings of
duets, trios, fives, eights, and finally, tens. At work and school, people
coordinated in shifts of staggered arrangement.
COVID-19 is more than a pandemic of viral
infection. It leads to other forms of physical, mental, sociocultural, and
financial pandemics. From Delta to Omicron and its subvariants, I seek to
reflect on God’s will through viral choreography. By allowing His people to
dance with the virus, I ask, what does God want me to become? In what ways has
God challenged my ingrained assumptions about Him and my relationship with Him?
How has my understanding of Him evolved as a result?
UNDERSTANDING SUFFERING BEYOND THE DUALISM OF GOOD AND EVIL
Job emerges as one of the most studied
biblical characters since the pandemic erupted. [3]
Our
understanding of him, a human being made to undergo profound suffering, grows
in complexity and nuance with increasing prevalence of Covid infection and
reinfection. In the eyes of his friends, Job’s suffering is commensurate with
his wrongdoing. Their reasoning is straightforward. Good deeds yield good; evil
deeds yield evil. This principle has been taught to generations through the
Mosaic Law, reinforced in King Solomon’s wisdom books, and reiterated in the
prophets’ warning messages throughout the Old Testament. Even Jesus’ disciples
reason in the same way. When meeting a man born blind, they ask Jesus if it is
because of his sin or the sins of his parents (Jn 9:3). Judging by Job’s
immense suffering, his friends conclude with certainty he must have erred in
the eyes of God while still insisting himself to be righteous (Job 31).
Pre-pandemic, it was easy to fall into the
thinking mode of Job’s friends. At the onset of the pandemic, stigmatization
often followed those infected. We wondered to ourselves that perhaps their
suffering was divine punishment for something they had done. However, as the
virus continues to mutate, we take turns walking in the shoes of Job and his
friends. In Singapore, at the time of writing, at least sixty percent of the
population has been infected. People take turns to play the roles of the sick
and the caregiver, the weak and the strong, the consoler and the consoled.
Through this constant role-switching process, we gradually see Job with greater
empathy. The figure of Job is no longer the distant Other. We are concurrently
Job and his friends. We begin to understand that many reasons contribute to
human suffering. The cause of suffering is far more complex than the simplistic
dualism of good-yields-good versus evil-yields-evil formula. Suffering could result
from multiple factors and agents from the material and spiritual worlds coming
into interaction. Only God sees the entire picture and into the future.
SUFFERING IS EXTRA-ORDINARY
Suffering is an extra-ordinary experience.
Though suffering is not uncommon, it is immensely significant to the sufferer.
It disrupts the ordinariness of everyday life by throwing us off our usual
rhythms and routines. Suffering disappoints, saddens, and deprives us. In life,
we have expectations. For instance, we may envision the kind of school we want
to study at, the kind of career path we want to take, the kind of family we
want to build, and the kind of retirement we eventually want to enjoy. We may
also expect to stay healthy and that our children will exceed our own accomplishments.
When we go through an experience in life that confirms our expectations, it, in
turn, reinforces the worldview that we hold. Yet when we undergo an experience
that disconfirms our expectations, we go through stressful phases of denial and
adjustment in which we alter our expectations and worldview. This psychological
transition could last for years, decades, or even a lifetime and is well
documented and studied in trauma research. [4]
Remember Job’s torrent of complaints? Yes,
he is thinking aloud to figure out what went wrong. He is also readjusting his
expectations in life and his relationship with God. In short, Job’s ordinary
life is disrupted when suddenly deprived of wealth, family, and health. He is
grappling with an extra-ordinary experience so much greater than him that he
cannot comprehend, explain, or completely accept. It is difficult, if not
impossible, to remain silent when much pain, bitterness, and disillusionment
are pent up inside.
REMAINING SILENT AND PRAYERFUL IN SUFFERING
Yet silence is golden when in suffering.
When eventually confronted by God, Job replies:
“Behold, I am vile;
What shall I answer You?
I lay my hand over my mouth.
Once I have spoken, but I will not answer;
Yes, twice, but I will proceed no further.” (Job 40:4–5)
Similarly, in Jeremiah’s lamentation over
Israel’s plight, he concludes:
“It is good that one should hope and
wait quietly
For the salvation of the LORD. …
Let him sit alone and keep silent,
Because God has laid it on him.” (Lam 3:26, 28)
When Paul suffers criticism from the
church, he responds:
But with
me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by a human court.
In fact, I do not even judge myself. ...Therefore judge nothing before the
time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of
darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. (1 Cor 4:3, 5a)
As human beings, we like the reassurance of
clear and quick answers. They settle us with a sense of security. They
guarantee that no further intellectual hard work or soul-searching is required
on our part. In contrast, silence denotes indeterminacy and inconclusiveness.
There is a lack of closure. Yet remaining silent is a powerful assertion of
God’s absolute sovereignty. It is also the sufferer’s resolution to honor that
sovereignty.
What does God want us to do when in
silence? In the depth of a pit, Jeremiah calls on the name of the Lord (Lam
3:55). He knows God does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the
children of men (Lam 3:33). When Jonah is trapped in the belly of a giant fish,
he prays:
Yet You
have brought up my life from the pit. …
When my soul fainted within me,
I remembered the LORD;
And my prayer went up to You,
Into Your holy temple. (Jon 2:6b–7)
After communing with God, Jonah returns to
his mission. Similarly, Job’s conversation with God is a series of prayers that
allows him to process his suffering. In the end, Job recalibrates his
understanding of God and his own positioning. He professes, “I have heard of
You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (Job 42:5). Through
trauma, denial, and finally re-comprehending his relationship with God, Job is
released from his suffering.
WE ARE JOB AND HIS FRIENDS
If remaining silent and prayerful is God’s
will for those in suffering, what then is God’s desire for those who keep their
company? Job’s three friends are certainly on the right track at the start.
They come together by agreement and visit Job with the intention of comforting
him. In deep grief, they sit with him seven days and nights. No one says a word
upon witnessing Job’s immense suffering. However, after hearing Job’s
complaints, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar become judgmental. They take turns to
expound on God’s justice. Their knowledge of God is unimpeachable. But none of
them can identify the cause of Job’s suffering. Elihu, a young man who waits
for his turn to speak, eventually becomes frustrated by all three of them
because they condemn Job before they can even convince him (Job 32:3).
Through the viral choreography of COVID-19,
God has shown us we can be Job or his friends at any point in time. With the
help of historical hindsight recorded in the Bible and through the study of
psychology, we could argue that Job is going through a transition process after
a major trauma. If it is God’s will for an individual to go through a period of
readjustment, those surrounding him or her are in no place to come to their own
conclusions. At this juncture, Job needs his friends’ presence, prayers, food
supplies, and access to daily necessities. Their company and prayers are to
spiritually uplift Job in overcoming the extra-ordinary experience he is going
through. The friends provide food and daily necessities to maintain the
ordinary routine of Job’s everyday life, which would make him feel grounded. If
we refer to Brennan’s socio-cognitive model of transition in Appendix 1, where
would you place yourself in the diagram as a friend? If you were Job, where
would you like to place your friend? Take out a pen and draw yourself into the
diagram.
By dancing with the virus for the last
three years, we come to understand that we can be Job or his friends at any
given point in time. When we are Job, remaining silent and prayerful is golden
in times of trials and tribulations. When we are his friends, God requires us
to bring comfort—through our presence, prayers, non-judgment, and provision of
food and daily supplies.
Appendix 1:
Figure 1: Adapted from Social-Cognitive
Transition Model of Adjustment (Brennan 2001)
