THEY LACK THE COURAGE NOT TO PERFORM:

There exists within Christianity a temptation to performative acts that masquerade as fearlessness. In reality, this recklessness represents--as the early church father John Chrysostom called it--"display and vainglory." Look how fearless we are, we declare, as we court risks that rational people should shun. In the context of a global pandemic followers of Christ can actually become a danger to their fellow citizens, rather than a source of help and hope.

Or, put another way, reckless Christians can transform themselves from angels of mercy to angels of death, and the rest of the world would be right to fear their presence.

But just as Christ rejected performative displays, he also rejected cowardice. He demands sacrifice even unto death. Yet taking up one's cross in imitation of Christ means engaging in purposeful sacrifice. This is the risk of the doctor or the nurse who possesses the courage to continually expose himself or herself to deadly disease to care for the sick and dying. This is the risk of the faithful believer who sheds personal protection to care for the least of these so that they are not alone.

And this person does not then walk into church or to church events--or even surround herself with her own family--to prove God's divine protection. Were the men and women who were infected at a church event in Nashville not faithful Christians who were fearlessly serving the Lord? Yet one man's infection still became their infection, and now dozens of people are paying a steep price.  

I know doctors who are separating themselves from their families. They're treating this moment of crisis in much the same way that a soldier treats a deployment. The normal comforts of home are just not available. That's not fear. In fact, they are fearless in their service. It's prudence. They will not impute their personal risk to the men, women, and children in their family and community.

Veterans are instinctively familiar with the distinction between cowardice, courage, and recklessness. A combat operation requires a soldier to expose himself to extreme danger. The coward shuns his duty. The courageous man embraces the mission, yet he also wears body armor, often fights from armored vehicles, uses cover when he has it, and avails himself of as much air support and artillery support as he can. No one would call that "giving in to fear." Instead, his caution is wise. It maximizes the combat power of the individual and helps retain the cohesion of the team.

There was a moment in my deployment when an officer violated every rule of safety and caution. In an ostentatious display of reckless physical risk, he ordered a subordinate to ride with him in an unarmored pickup truck down an "uncleared" road (an uncleared road was a road that hadn't been swept clean of mines or improvised explosive devices). No one applauded his vainglory. They were livid at his carelessness. And he was instantly repentant. He knew what he had done. In spiritual terms, he had climbed to the top of the temple and cast himself off the edge. 

And what is our mission in this time? Shun performative recklessness. Do not presume that our faith makes us immune to the laws of biology and viral transmission. At the same time, believers should not shrink from purposeful and sacrificial personal risk. There may come a time when you must care for those who are sick. Do so without reservation, but do so prudently with the knowledge that you should not impute your risks to others. 

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