Faith.
I don’t know how long I’ll have your attention before you swipe or scroll to something else. So I’ll get straight to the point, because as we all attempt to social distance in the middle of one of the largest pandemics the world has ever seen, our tender hearts and fragile minds need this now more than ever:
My faith in God is what’s giving me hope in the midst of this pandemic. Yes, that’s right: Faith. It’s my faith that I lean on as the death tolls resulting from the coronavirus continue to rise. My faith that keeps me steady as our entire country wakes up every morning to wage war on an invisible enemy. And it’s faith that disarms my anxiety and offers hope—especially through this storm.
I know, I know. Faith is a word that might feel cliché to some—a word that appears on charming rustic home decor and within inspirational quotes on Pinterest. But now more than ever, faith is the reliable constant I cling to as I wake up every morning deeply concerned about my daughter, my loved ones, and the fate of the world. And I’m not alone.
In Cartersville, Georgia last week, hundreds gathered around a local hospital to pray for COVID-19 patients fighting for their lives, as well as the medical staff on the front lines. In Brazil, residents in quarantine went viral for singing a hymn from their balconies. And millions around the globe are logging on to attend church virtually; my own church in New Jersey reports viewership has jumped over 2,000 percent since social distancing began.
Of course, many are arguing that it isn’t faith, but science, that we need right now. And to that I say: Why can’t we have more of both? Billy Abungu, M.D., an internal medicine doctor based in the Bronx, New York, agrees that faith and science do not have to function as polar opposites.
“When a patient sits in my examination room with the high likelihood that they might be the next casualty of this disease, I feel a duty to offer some measure of encouragement, while respecting their faith—and many are open,” says Abungu. “Cases like that offer me the opportunity to speak beyond medical diagnoses in the traditional sense. You would have to search far and wide to find even the harshest faith skeptic who would turn down an opportunity for a moment of prayer, especially now.”
15 percent of individuals who rarely or never pray say they have turned to prayer as a way to cope.
According to a recent study from the Pew Research Center, Americans have indeed shifted their religious habits in response to this pandemic; 55 percent of adults studied report praying for the virus to stop spreading. But even more notably, 15 percent of individuals who rarely or never pray say they have turned to prayer as a way to cope, while 24 percent of Americans who don’t associate with any religion admit to doing the same.
The fact that more and more of us are turning to God right now isn’t all that surprising. Dr. Timothy Keller, the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan and a New York Times best-selling author, says that historically during times of chaos, many have turned to faith, even if we don’t quite understand the reasoning.
“We do not know what God’s reason for allowing a particular sickness is, but we know what it isn’t—it isn’t that He doesn’t love us,” says Keller, who is also the co-founder and chairman of Redeemer City to City, which trains leaders to start churches in global cities. “In faith, it all comes down to whether or not we trust God. And the best proof of His love and trustworthiness is the price He himself paid to rescue us from suffering and death.”
Okay, so my faith leads me to believe that God loves me, which means He cares. And because He cares, I can find comfort in my belief that somehow, He’s present during every second of this crisis; that none of us are in this alone. Still, that doesn’t magically make all the discomfort we’re all feeling go away—or explain why this is happening in the first place.
Here’s where I should explain that I didn’t always believe in what–or Who–I couldn’t see.
Growing up, the main reason I used to tag along with my grandma to our local Catholic church in the Bronx was because of the guarantee that afterwards, we’d take a trip to the Kingsbridge Donut Shop. While I did enjoy the reverence in that ornate stained-glass cathedral, identifying as Catholic was more because of my Latina family’s traditions than a decision I thoughtfully made. I had a religious routine at best, but never a true personal relationship with God; my knowledge of the Bible was stored in the same mental compartment as folktales and Greek mythology.
It wasn’t until after I graduated from college that I experienced a heart transformation that led me to think more about that word: faith. Over a macaroni and cheese dinner, a friend casually offered this suggestion as I agonized over my seemingly insurmountable student loan debt: “Give it to God.”
Who?
Last time I checked, I couldn’t call Sallie Mae and say “Hi, you will no longer receive payments from me, because Jesus paid it all.” But that’s not what she meant. Instead, she was suggesting an invitation to experience God right where I was: Scared, anxious, and unsure of my future. (Sound familiar to anyone right now?) So in defiance of the skeptical voice inside of me, I visited her non-denominational Christian church—and as simple as that, I began to slowly warm up to the concept of faith.
But my transition didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning, I would get wasted at the club on a Saturday night, then go to church Sunday morning. For years, much of my identity was still focused on my relationship status, career, or appearance, rather than God. Fast forward a decade later, and now, I’m probably the least likely person you’d envision as a pastor’s wife. In fact, I even have a tattoo—one of many—on my right forearm that says “No Apologies”—an ode to my once reckless lifestyle.
Now, in 2020—amidst a pandemic—those words take on a new meaning as I unapologetically put my trust in God. If there’s one thing my faith has taught me, it’s that this isn’t the first crisis our society has encountered—and that in this and the many that have come before it, God has always been present.
“Among all the great religions of the world, Christianity uniquely declares that the Creator God of the universe did not stay away from the chaos and suffering of life on earth,” Keller says. “He was born as a mortal and knew weakness hunger, injustice, torture, and death—all in order to atone for sin.”
Still, there’s no “oops” in the economy of God, as my husband Lionel often says. So if God is powerful and all-knowing, many of us are wondering right now: Why would He allow this pandemic to occur?
“It’s impossible for the human mind to fully grasp divine reasoning,” says Priscilla Shirer, Bible teacher and author of Fervent. “Even though hindsight will sometimes provide a window of clarity about difficult times, we will often be left without any sure understanding of why bad things happen–especially when they happen to good people.”
She adds that even if we mere mortals never fully comprehend God’s plans for us, there is one sure thing we can cling to: If God allows something, there is a reason...even for something as horrific as the coronavirus. “It will not have been in vain,” Shirer says. “Somehow, this will become a breeding ground for beautiful outcomes that would not have otherwise taken shape.”
Some of those outcomes might be already taking shape. Social distancing and more time at home has meant families are creating memories they wouldn’t have otherwise, whether it’s by shared meals, group TikToK challenges, or tackling academic course loads. (Teachers really should be paid more, huh?) Beyond that, with so many people staying home, both crime rates and pollution have decreased. Not to mention, as Shirer adds, “Many people are already taking advantage of the opportunity to realign priorities, rediscover lost passions, adjust misplaced perspectives, and rebuild relationships that have been neglected in the business of everyday life.”
Still, even with those silver linings, true faith is much easier said than done—for myself included. During this pandemic, I had to cancel my daughter’s first birthday party (which would have had an epic "Oh, The Places She Will Go!" Dr. Seuss-inspired theme, by the way), along with the California getaway my husband and I had been planning for an entire year. (I was finally going to get some real sleep, y'all!) Now, I’m learning an intricate new dance of what it’s like to be a public school teacher working from home with both my baby and husband all day. Add to that the fact that any time my husband leaves the house, I offer a dramatic goodbye as if he’s going off for war—before he returns for a Lysol-drenched homecoming.
But what is this list of woes compared to those who have lost a loved one to the coronavirus, or had to shut down a business, or lost their sense of safety because “coughing while asian” can be a bait for racism? And how can I balance trudging through my own daily trenches of anxiety while practicing this faith I profess?
“The truth is that none of us knows what we're doing, and admitting that in the presence of God could be the most authentic act of faith we could practice,” says Emily P. Freeman, author of The Next Right Thing and host of The Next Right Thing Podcast. “This is not a time to look too far into the future, or even the next few weeks or months. This is a time to think in terms of moments. Leaning into your faith during this pandemic means asking yourself, ‘What is my next right thing?’”
Rich Villodas is the pastor of New Life Fellowship, just five minutes away from Elmhurst Hospital in Queens, New York, which has been widely-featured on the news as a heartbreaking picture of the outbreak’s devastation and our medical system’s limitations. He points out that—as evident by all of those people tuning in to church via live stream—there’s strength in numbers.
“Faith is not to be a private, isolated conviction we hold on to. It is best deepened in community,” Villodas says. Obviously, social distancing makes that particularly difficult right now, but: “My suggestion to people who want to build their faith is simple. Invite a friend or two to share the troubles of your soul, and pray with each other, trusting that God is near.”
For me, my faith also offers peace because of God’s words. Early on in my spiritual journey, I wanted to decide how I viewed the Bible. Was it a tool used to condemn others? A buffet table where I could just take what I wanted, but leave what didn’t taste good? Or was it the Truth from God Himself? I decided that my own belief was the latter.
I’m not here to Bible thump, but to share my own journey to faith: Once I decided where I would hold God’s Scripture in my life—front and center—I began to look at each passage of the Bible differently. Now, that has helped me understand that this novel coronavirus doesn’t get the final say; God does. That even if I cannot see it or fully comprehend it, God is working out all things for a greater good. And it’s possible some things aren’t even meant for me to fully grasp on this side of eternity.
The thing is, we all worship or idolize something. For some, it might not be God or religion at all, but leisure, or financial security, loved ones, health, or career. Whatever your relationship is with faith, I hope I can encourage you to consider that we were made for much more than what this virus can take from us. For me, at least, it’s faith that's holding me together as I rock my daughter to sleep each night, silently praying for a better tomorrow for all of us.
The Oprah Magazine
