Sharing from the Congregation – David Petty
Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?
Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place — when I said, “this far can you come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt?”
Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it? - Job 38:4-13
I recently wrote about the lessons that the pandemic can teach us. There are many such lessons, great and small, and I know many of you could come up with a better list than I can. But surely one of the most important lessons is this: we are not in charge.
Writers, philosophers, etc. have been saying for several decades now that we are about to enter a "post-enlightenment" age. The Enlightenment was a period beginning around 1650; if I understand it correctly, one of its most important characteristics was an emphasis on the individual intellect. Humanity, it was believed, could achieve anything. The moon landing, the conquest of smallpox and polio, and many other accomplishments are a direct outgrowth of enlightenment thinking.
Now as someone who works in a scientific field, I certainly wouldn't want to lose what we have learned. But I think it was inevitable that we would eventually discover that humanity has its limitations. For some people, that is exactly what has happened in the past few months. All our learning has been unable to keep our world from being turned upside down, and it is unclear when or whether it will return to normal. A tiny, invisible virus has thrown a bucket of cold water on our visions of control.
It's frightening to suddenly realize we are not in control. It's a bit like having the steering wheel come off while the car is heading down the interstate. We are comforted, though, by the awareness, however limited, in that there is one who IS in control. And that one is one who loves us in ways beyond our imagining. Maybe -- just maybe -- this crisis can make us stop listening to ourselves long enough that we can hear the morning stars singing.
Gracefully Submitted,
David Petty