The word "quarantine" has been thrown around quite a bit in recent weeks as the novel Coronavirus has continued to spread across the globe. Here in Missouri, we topped 1,000 confirmed cases in the past 24 hours, and it seems the worst is still coming. In the face of this pandemic, the public is being advised to self-isolate and those who potentially have been exposed to the virus are being placed in "quarantine."
I came across some interesting articles earlier this week about the history of the word "quarantine." Although versions of the quarantine concept have been practiced throughout human history for a variety of reasons, the word itself seems to have originated in 14th century Italy. In the mid-1300's, another pandemic, the bubonic plague, was sweeping across Europe. Around 1377, the Venetian-controlled port of Ragusa implemented a policy of trentino, a 30-day waiting period for ships coming from areas affected by the plague. Over the next few years, this waiting period was extended to 40 days, thus becoming a quaratino. This Italian word for "about 40" is the basis for our English word of "quarantine."
No one is entirely sure why the waiting period was shifted from 30 to 40 days, but most scholars suspect it was related to religious reasons and the deep symbolism within Judaism and Christianity for the number 40. Indeed, it was not uncommon to find the number 40 used in other medical practices of the time. For example, mothers were often required to rest for "40 days" after giving birth to a child.
In the Bible, the number 40 carries significance and can be found in numerous stories. Noah rides out the flood for 40 days and nights. Moses intercedes with God for forty days after Israel makes the Golden calf. The people of Israel wander in the wilderness for 40 years. Saul’s Army cowers one fear for 40 days before Goliath until David arrives. Elijah lives off divinely provides food for 40 days as he fights depression while on the run from Jezebel. Ezekiel lays on his side for 40 days to symbolically bear Israel's sin. Jesus is fasts and is tempted by Satan in the desert for 40 days.
Now, what's interesting about the number 40 in Scripture is that it almost always seems to represent a time of isolation and testing. Look at the settings of these stories. A cataclysmic flood that destroys nearly all of humanity. Several stories of tempting in the desert. A prophet proclaiming the destruction of Jerusalem.
These were not happy times. They were times of temptation and failure. They were times of destruction and death. They were times of waiting, wondering if hope could be found. They were lonely times.
Incidentally, those of us who pay attention to the liturgical calendar know that we Christians also find ourselves embedded within another period of 40--Lent. For those who are less familiar with the lectionary or liturgical calendar, Lent is the 40-day season (minus Sundays) that begins with Ash Wednesday and culminates with Holy Week (Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday). Whereas Easter is the supreme day of rejoicing for Christians--a celebration of resurrection--Lent is a period of solemn reflection and lament.
During Lent, we take an honest look at our lives and our world and come face to face with their ugliness. We confront our own sins and attempt to grasp their full weight. We look toward the needy in our communities and dedicate ourselves to addresses the brokenness in our world. And ultimate, we stare into our own mortality and remind ourselves that death comes for us all.
This year, Lent began on February 26 (Ash Wednesday). Coincidentally, this was the exact same say that US officials announced the first confirmed case of community spread of the Coronavirus in the United States, a benchmark that moved us into the current crisis. And in the 30 days that followed, our news feeds have been consumed with nothing else and this tiny, invisible threat has completely and devastatingly turned our world upside-down.
The irony of this does not escape me. Literally as soon as those of us in Ash Wednesday services received the ashes on our foreheads with the charge to "Remember that you are dust, and to the dust you shall return," our nation was seized by fear of a virus that has been killing thousands worldwide. The message of Lent that we are mortal and are not truly in control could never be more clear.
And so, as I sit here, all of these threads begin weaving themselves together. A severe pandemic centuries ago created the concept of quarantine with a connection the the Biblical number of 40. Christians today are travelling through our own period of 40 days. In the midst of those 40 days another pandemic attacks us pushing us back into quarantine. It all comes full circle.
But this is why I appreciate the liturgical calendar. It gives me a framework of meaning and always seems timely--inspired by the Spirit if you will. At the moment, the world does not know how to respond. The ugliness of a period of testing, as all biblical periods of 40 were, is that they expose the darker sides of ourselves. We have seen fear and panic consume people because they feel a lack of control. In order to try regaining control, people have also resorted to hoarding and greed. Gun sales have also surged, not because a bullet can stop a virus, but because people are preparing for a fight or are willing to kill others who might threaten their property. The worst sides of humanity can come out in times like this.
Then there are also feelings of hopelessness and desperation. As a result of social distancing, everyone (both introvert and extrovert) are realizing just how important community is and how painful it can be to live with it. Couples are getting married without their families present. Mothers are giving birth without their husbands at their sides. Children are unable to visit their aging parents. Churches are unable to gather in person. School children are unable to see their friends. And stay-at-home parents are feeling depression settling in as their are locked inside their homes without adult interaction.
But the message of Lent also speaks most powerfully in times like this. Lent reminds us that grief and lament are ok in the sight of loss. The New Testament text in the lectionary for this past Sunday was about Jesus raising up Lazarus from the dead. Yet in that passage comes the shortest verse in Scripture--"Jesus wept." It is a reminder that even God Himself cries and grieves about the pain of this life.
Lent reminds us that the isolation and depression many of us temporarily face because of the virus is also the daily reality for so many of our neighbors. While we may be able to go back to work and our normal lives with friends, co-workers, and family in a few weeks or months, countless Americans do not have that luxury. There are senior citizens stuck in nursing homes with no one to visit them. There are adults and children who struggle with depression as a normal part of life. There are women who live in abusive relationships who have been isolated from every loved one by their abuser and for whom every day feels like a prison. As we experience similar emotions as them in this time of self-imposed isolation, we find solidarity with them and are hopefully motivated to live our lives in compassion towards those who see no end in sight.
And finally, Lent reminds us that we are not in control. That is the American myth. We crave control and can even do a decent job most days of creating some facade of it. But in the end, crises like this one rip back the curtain and expose our complete lac of control. But if we are paying attention to the message of Lent, we would not be so blindsided by this reality because we would know that it was a mirage all along. No matter how hard we try, the wilderness will always come. No matter how much we pull up our bootstraps, sometimes the whole rug of the economy gets pulled out from under us and knocks us down anyways. No matter how much we exercise, eat healthily, or medicate, death will always come for us. And sometimes, as some are finding out now, death comes much earlier than we might hope.
But the hope of Lent is that we need to let go of control in order to find a greater treasure. In the words of Jesus, those who lose their lives for His sake will find life. Those who grieve will be comforted. Those who lowly are those who are blessed. It's backwards. It's painful. But at moments like this, it's what we need.
So may our quarantine (both of the virus and of Lent) be a time of reflection of what truly matters in life and thus become a transforming period leading us into the resurrection of Easter.
