Andrew Cuomo, the governor of New York, is a public figure, and it is Andrew Cuomo the public figure I’ve been thinking about.  Of course, public figures have personal lives. There is no reason for me to think anything other than that those who know Andrew Cuomo personally, his friends and his family members, like him very much. No reason to think he is not a nice man.

But there is something about the public figure Andrew Cuomo that’s been bothering me. It’s what he has been saying publicly.  So, please, this is not a personal attack. It is,however, an expression of concern, a deep worry, about what Andrew Cuomo, the public figure, has said and what it represents.

About ten days ago Cuomo was interviewed on CNN. The interview had to do with his handling of the coronavirus crisis in New York. He has been commended for the job he is doing. The governor pointed out that they were just beginning to see a flattening of the curve, and that is a good thing. He commended New Yorkers for their diligence in social distancing and other measures. That’s the kind of thing good governors ought to say.

But then, out of the blue, no other context, he went on to say, “Our behavior has stopped the spread of the virus. God did not stop the spread of the virus.” Continue reading →

We hear the phrase all the time, maybe too often. “The new normal.” We’re five weeks into a new normal. And when this normal ends, whenever it ends, there will be a new “new normal.”

In this time of pandemic we at once grieve death and loss, feel pain and sorrow – and find ourselves disturbed by the changes in our daily routine.  The profound and the petty confront us with equal force, it seems.

After a lot of profound, I have been thinking about the petty.

I had my work routine down. It was normal. I knew what to expect. It was comfortable and predictable. Mondays were bulletin and sermon preparation days.  Always a Monday night meeting. Tuesday continued sermon prep and then getting ready for Wednesday morning Bible study and Thursday night Faith Acts.  Wednesday was staff day. And so on and so on. Oh, there were hospital calls, lunch meetings and phone calls and drop-ins.  But it was all so predictable. And so comfortable.  I liked my old normal.

The new normal is nothing like that and I can’t say much more because it’s not yet normal and seems to want to defy normal.

We like normal.

Normal is not a biblical word, but I the Bible knows about it.  In the New Testament we hear the word “always” fairly often, and, not always, but frequently it has to do with those things we normally do.  The Greek work is pantote – all the time.

Occasionally Scripture uses always to describe our old normal.  Paul reminds Timothy of those who are always, normally, learning new things but never gaining any wisdom (2 Timothy 3:7).  He reminds Titus that the Cretans he serves are always, normally, untrustworthy and lazy (Titus 1:12).  Our old normal is not so good.

But mostly always refers to a new normal to which the life in Christ calls us – always praying, always rejoicing, always showing concern for one another, always hoping, always being patient, always forbearing, always encouraging.

They say there’s no going back to the old normal.  The new normal will be different, maybe not so comfortable.

Whether it’s a month or two or more away, maybe it’s time to get ready for the new normal. Looking back to the words of Scripture, allows us to look forward to a new normal – to some old “always behaviors” – that just may make for a new normal so much better than that old normal with which we had grown way too comfortable.

Social distancing regulations will forestall anything but a virtual mob doing me harm for uttering such a heresy.  But I will say it again.  Prayer doesn’t work.

The week ends with many of us exhausted from prayer, spent by prayer.  We startle awake in the morning – and in the middle of the night – called to prayer for our friends, our good and faithful friends.  “Heal, O Lord. Comfort, O Lord.”

One of the morning psalms for today is 22. The words of the first two verses are familiar:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer,
and by night, but I find no rest.

To be sure, the words are messianic and borrowed by Jesus as the words he needed as he suffered there for us.  But the words were not written just so Jesus would have them that awful day on Calvary.  They are David’s words spoken from his anguished heart.  Given by the Holy Spirit, they are my words and your words this long week. Continue reading →