The Theology of Pandemic #7: The DNA of the City

The Theology of Pandemic #7:  

The DNA of the City

A recent article in The Guardian (Shenker 2020) proposes that the urban world could be significantly different in the wake of Covid-19. That article notes the tension between densification, which is needed to create a more sustainable and energy efficient city, with the disaggregation needed to fight a pandemic. The article further notes migration. On one hand the "declining cost of distance" (Harris in Shenker 2020) in which work at home and work from a distance capability is allowing some to move out of the city to smaller communities, while in other places around the globe rural dwellers are becoming urban residents in large numbers. Other factors considered are an "intensification of digital infrastructure" (Shenker 2020) and an increase in authoritarianism. Elsewhere Daneshpour (2020) has called for a new kind of urban planning in the wake of this pandemic.

While cities will no doubt be affected long term by Covid-19 perhaps even changing the ways urban places are planned and organized, it is something in the DNA of cities themselves that has me wondering. Rocke and Van Dyke (2017:49) note that “Cities are transformed at the same level they are created. They are transformed relationally.” If we sit with that for just a moment one of the implications is that cities are an outgrowth of the human need to be together. Cities are relational in nature because we are relational creatures. Early in Genesis it is noted that it is not good for Adam to be alone, he needs another human (Gen. 2:18). Like Adam, we need other people.

If cities are relational then in this pandemic moment cities themselves could be seen as breaking down. If buried in the DNA of the urban world is the desire to be together the act of social isolation itself wars against that by placing all of us in isolation from one another. If cities are formed relationally, when we cannot relate does the city begin to break down?

It has long been noted that the density of cities does not always equal relational interactions. We can easily walk past the person experiencing homelessness on the street day after day and never know their name. We ride transit daily with people we do not know. We see people everywhere in a typical urban environment, but often do not have personal connection to more than a few. In the movie Crash Don Cheadle's character, Graham, expresses an extreme version of this isolation:

"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."

What if in this pandemic moment the relationality of the city is changing too? What if one of the changes that Covid-19 is bringing to the urban environment is a change in the way we interact in the city?

In that same article in The Guardian the author expresses that maybe the social isolation is not tearing the city apart, but bringing us closer together:

"On the ground, however, the story of coronavirus in many global cities has so far been very different. After decades of increasing atomisation, particularly among younger urban residents for whom the impossible cost of housing has made life both precarious and transient, the sudden proliferation of mutual aid groups – designed to provide community support for the most vulnerable during isolation – has brought neighbours together across age groups and demographic divides. Social distancing has, ironically, drawn some of us closer than ever before" (Shenker 2020).

Could it be that the DNA of the city - the relational nature of humans - is not sickened by Covid-19 but rather strengthened by it? Could the fact that we are all in this together - by the simple fact that we are all human, all God's children - be stronger than the social isolation? Could it be that the universality of this pandemic pushes us out of our isolation to a place where we learn the names and stories of those around us?  Can the concern over health bring us to a place where we have concern for our neighbors, and their wellbeing, even in times when we are not threatened by a common enemy?  Can the city be transformed relationally into something new in the wake of this Coronavirus?

Joel K

D.V.

Works Cited:

Daneshpour, Z.A., 2020. Out of the coronavirus crisis, a new kind of urban planning must be born. Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Zohreh_Daneshpour/publication/340491887_Out_of_the_coronavirus_crisis_a_new_kind_of_urban_planning_must_be_born_-_Post_pandemic_urban_and_regional_planning_and_the_lessons_that_can_be_learned_from_Coronavirus_pandemic_2020/links/5e8cbfe94585150839c779a0/Out-of-the-coronavirus-crisis-a-new-kind-of-urban-planning-must-be-born-Post-pandemic-urban-and-regional-planning-and-the-lessons-that-can-be-learned-from-Coronavirus-pandemic-2020.pdf

Rocke, K. & Van Dyke, J., 2017, Incarnational training framework: A training guide for
developing leaders engaged in city transformation, 2nd edn., Street Psalms Press, Tacoma.


Shenker, J., 2020, 'Cities after coronavirus: how Covid-19 could radically alter urban life.' 26 March, The Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/mar/26/life-after-coronavirus-pandemic-change-world

It Comes at Night (A poem)

It Comes at Night (4.3.2020)

During the day I’m fine.

The numbers come out each eve.

Nighttime is the worst of every timeline.

I’d go, but no one can leave.

Another 10 or 20 Alaskans diagnosed.

Numbers added to the news where the national state is exposed.

I can feel it rising inside.

The anxious tightening of my chest.

My racing mind on a wild ride.

A bore tide wave that won’t crest.

The creeping onslaught of low level panic.

The dread that lays dormant while I work now becomes manic.

How long till it comes for someone I know?

My friends? My Family? Me?

These are the questions death doth bestow.

I pray in an attempt to be free.

But the not knowing just wont let me rest.

Living day-to-day, day-after-day, is hard, but best.

We are instructed to stay if not essential.

We are told to ‘bend the curve.’

But my thoughts leave on journeys tangential,

careening around swerve upon swerve.

Is this what it felt like back in 1918,

wondering when a normal life could reconvene?


- Joel K

D.V.

The Theology of Pandemic #6 (Palm Sunday Edition) - Brooding over Chaos

The Theology of Pandemic #6  (Palm Sunday Edition)
Weeping, Gathering and Brooding

Jesus does something on the way into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday that we tend to ignore - he weeps. In Luke's account of the triumphal entry as Jesus goes down the Mount of Olives and approaches the city he sees it an begins to cry. Later in the week, as Jesus teaches in the Temple courts he again expresses his love for Jerusalem. There he says:

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." (Matt. 23:37-39)

In that moment Jesus is connecting his coming return in the future to the entry he had made into Jerusalem just days before.  Remember people cry out to him as he rides the colt across the coats "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord."  

The interesting thing here is the image of a hen gathering her chicks. This is a very maternal image that follows the statement that the city always mistreats and murders its prophets (see also Lk. 6:20-23; 11:45-51; 13:34-35; Acts 7:51-53; I Thes. 2:14-15). Jesus is expressing the desire of God to gather his children to him/herself. There is in the statement a foreshadowing of the statement coming later in the week, "“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34).  In both cases there is a murderous offense that is being responded to, not with retaliation, but with tenderness and love.  Revenge is not the first thought of Jesus on the way into the city and to execution (or after His resurrection for that matter), but rather tears and the nurturing image of gathering and forgiving.

This hen-like image is also seen in the very opening words of the Bible. In Genesis 1:1-2 we read:

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

The word that is translated into English as "hovering" is the word in Hebrew for brood. Brooding is what a hen does with her eggs. Brooding is the act of protecting, incubating, and bringing new life into existence.  What is interesting is that the Spirit is brooding over not eggs, but the waters.  The images in these opening verses is one of chaos.  Water in the Old Testament, in particular moving water, was seen as chaotic.  So this verse can be understood to mean that the Spirit of God is brooding over chaos.

What does all of this have to do with the pandemic period we are processing through?  I believe three things speak to us on this Palm Sunday. 

First, Jesus was not moved to tears by humanity only that one time he stopped and looked at Jerusalem on the way into the city seated on a colt.  I suspect that often Jesus looks out at the part of creation that was made in God's image and cries.  I believe that today, on this Palm Sunday, thousands of years later Jesus is weeping again.  He is weeping for those who have died from Covid-19.  He is weeping for those who have suffered in any way from this Corona Virus.  He is weeping over the inequality that is exposed by the stay-at-home orders.  He is weeping for all of humanity in this moment.

Second, I believe it is still Jesus' desire to gather us under his wings.  Though we may not physically stone prophets, we all, in one way or another, reject the arrival of God's love in our lives.  Yet, Jesus comes to us with open arms and embraces us.  I am confident that in this uncomfortable time Jesus is inviting you to find comfort in His arms.  I am certain, in the midst of all this uncertainty, that the maternal instinct of God has never been higher.  In this moment when we all feel vulnerable we have a mother hen of a God that whats to protect us.

Third, I don't think the Spirit ever stopped hovering over chaos.  While the dark, formless, chaotic waters in Genesis 1 were separated and the entire world created this resulted in only a temporary peace.  Chaos has reigned throughout human history and the Spirit has never stopped brooding over it.  The Spirit still seeks to protect, incubate, and bring new life into existence.  In this pandemic moment of chaos the Spirit is still brooding.  The Spirit is resting over the unrest.  The Spirit is moving over our orders to move as little as possible.  The Spirit is nurturing into existence the creation, the new thing, that is coming.

So this Palm Sunday, blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.  Blessed is the one who comes weeping, and gathering, and brooding on our behalf.

Joel K

D.V.

The Theology of Pandemic #5 - Scarcity and Abundance in the time of Covid-19

The Theology of Pandemic #5

Scarcity and Abundance in the time of Covid-19

In my previous post I wrote about the apocalyptic moment we are in, specifically what the Covid-19 pandemic is revealing. One specific thing this global pandemic is bringing to light is a belief in scarcity.

Scarcity has shown up in this crisis in the North American context in the crowds of people that rushed to the stores and over bought basic supplies. The fact that toilet paper was hoarded is a glowing example of my cultures belief that there is not enough. This greed, often exercised by those with the resources to "stock up," came at the expense of those who did not have the ready income to stockpile much less buy enough food for staying weeks at home.

Bene Brown in her book Daring Greatly writes,

"Scarcity is the “never enough” problem [...] Scarcity functions in a culture where everyone is hyper aware of lack. Everything from safety and love to money and resources feels restricted or lacking. We spend inordinate amounts of time calculating how much we have, want and don’t have, and how much everyone else has, needs, and wants" (2015:26).

Walter Brueggemann agrees,
"We who are now the richest nation are today's main coveters. We never feel that we have enough; we have to have more and more, and this insatiable desire destroys us." (1999:344)

In our culture we are called "consumers" because we are defined by what we have and what we buy or own. Advertisers manipulate us to buy based on the fear that we “have not.”

While the Covid-19 pandemic has exposed how much we believe in the the myth of scarcity (Brueggemann 1999), scarcity is not the normal condition of God's economy. God's economy is one of abundance.

Scripture paints a picture of abundance. In Genesis chapters one and two abundance and goodness spill off every page. In the final pages of the Bible the eternal city has enough for everyone (Revelation 21 & 22). In between the beginning and the end we see story after story of God telling his people that in God's economy there is enough and that God is enough. One example is the Manna story in Exodus 16. Commentating on that story Brueggemann (1999) notes three things:

"First, everybody had enough. But because Israel had learned to believe in scarcity in Egypt, people started to hoard the bread. When they tried to bank it, to invest it, it turned sour and rotted, because you cannot store up God's generosity. Finally, Moses said, "You know what we ought to do? We ought to do what God did in Genesis 1. We ought to have a Sabbath." Sabbath means that there's enough bread, that we don't have to hustle every day of our lives. There's no record that Pharaoh ever took a day off. People who think their lives consist of struggling to get more and more can never slow down because they won't ever have enough" (1999:344). 

Let me be clear, there are real needs in this pandemic moment. For some rent has gone unpaid. We are experiencing record amounts of unemployment. Hospital supplies running short. There is real scarcity taking place, and that is not even counting they long term effects to the local, national and global economy.  However, Brueggemann asks an important question, what if we “came to the realization that the real issue confronting us is whether the news of God’s abundance can be trusted in the face of the story of scarcity?” (1999:345). 

An ancient middle eastern teacher once stood on a mountainside and told his followers,

"Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:31-34 -ESV).

Brueggeman's question, and Jesus' teaching, are key in the midst of the hoarding and scarcity we are experiencing.  Covid-19 has exposed that many of us believe there is not enough, and others are experiencing lack.  That revelation could lead to an increased grabbing for ourselves, or drive us to generosity toward others.  But which will it be?

Each time we choose to help our neighbor secure what they need in the face of the impulse to take more for ourselves we are living into the liturgy of abundance that is God's economy.  I pray as our in-person, in-church liturgies go silent that the liturgy of abundance is incarnated (made real in the flesh) in our neighborhoods, communities and world.

Joel K

D.V.

Works Cited:
Brown, B., 2015, Daring greatly: How the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we
live, love, parent, and lead. Avery, New York.

Brueggemann, W., 1999, ‘The liturgy of abundance, the myth of scarcity’, Christian Century
116 (10), 342-34

The Theology of Pandemic #4 - Apocalypse

The Theology of Pandemic #4

Apocalypse

I watched a lot of Scooby-Doo after school when I was a kid. There was always a moment toward the end of each episode where the mystery was solved and the villain revealed. More often than not in those reveal scenes a mask was pulled off the head of the bad guy. As we experience this moment in time a revealing is also taking place.

The word apocalypse could be used to describe the time we are living in. Most often when the word apocalypse is used images of the end of the world or some other catastrophic event comes to mind. So in that sense the word is fitting in our present global crisis. However, I think there is an older definition that proves helpful at this time as well. Apocalypse can also mean a revealing or revelation. Just like in those old Scooby-Doo episodes, an apocalypse can unmask and show us what is going on.

In this apocalyptic moment it is important to think about what is being revealed on a number of levels - Global, national, local, personal.

On the global level some things are being revealed. We can see societal differences in how counties respond to the crisis. The interconnection of all living things sharing the planet is being uncovered. The disparity between those who have secure housing and those that don't is being seen on a huge scale. The disparity between developed and developing countries is coming into sharp focus.

On the national level, leadership (or the lack there of) has a light shined on it. The priorities of different sectors surface. The rather unsexy trio of vigilance, preparedness, and planning move to center stage.

The large scale revelations are something to be considered, but it is the local and the personal that interest me most. Maybe it is my affinity for Practical Theology, which is "always local, concrete and specific" (Müller 2004:296). It is the local and personal where each of us experience this pandemic.

In the local we see the vulnerability of our neighbors revealed. In the local we see what matters to us as our groups cease to meet, our work moves to home, and our favorite businesses shutter. In the local we see exposed who has a home to go to and who does not. In the local we think about the supply chain. The local is where this all hits home.
One more layer down the apocalypse arrives in our personal space. It shows up in what is being revealed in our bodies, our minds, and our souls. In our bodies we carry tension locked in our tightened jaws and stiff shoulders. In our minds a thousand wonderings and worries keep us up at night or distract us all day long. In our souls, there are questions some so deep they are without words.

"In your heart
That's the place
Where you must answer the phone" *

That song lyric from Vigilante of Love tells us the personal truth of this apocalypse. What is being revealed in our hearts? What thing is the pandemic revealing in you?

If we are to create a Theology of Pandemic it must include the prayer offered by the writer of the Psalms:

"Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts."

This searching must encompass the global, national, local and personal, but especially the personal. This must be taken seriously so that whatever is hidden can be disclosed, and whatever is concealed can be brought into the open (Mark 4:22).

In this apocalypse may we be open to all that is revealed in our world, our nation, our local communities and in us.

Joel K

D.V.

For more thoughts on apocalypse check out Joel Aguilar's blog post "Apocalyptic Pandemic?" here.

Works Cited:

* = "It's not Bothering Me" by Vigilantes of Love

Müller, J., 2004, ‘HIV/AIDS, narrative practical theology, and postfoundationalism: The emergence of a new story’, HTS Theological Studies 60(1-2), a516, 14 pages. https://doi.org/10.4102/hts.v60i1/2.516