In the myriad stories of the great isolation, those I read first usually concern the pastors and churches that flout the stay-home orders to have Sunday services. While I worry about danger involved in such cavalier behavior, I am especially incensed by reporters’ habits of using the adjective “evangelical” to describe the pastors and churches. I’m sure others, who also consider themselves evangelicals, are just as maddened as I am. We want to shout, “No, we are not like that.”
Earlier last month, a woman leaving an Ohio church was asked by a reporter, “Aren’t you worried you could impact other people if you get sick inside?” She responded, “no, I’m covered in Jesus’ blood. I’m covered in Jesus’ blood.” Before driving away, she added, that people she saw daily in Walmart, Home Depot, and the grocery store wouldn’t make her sick “because I am covered in his blood.”
Years ago, Leon Morris carefully studied the New Testament use of the word “blood” and concluded it was usually a metaphorical (a synecdoche, I suppose) reference to Christ’s death, and only rarely a reference to his literal blood. Still, throughout Christian history there have been periods in which some believers exhibited an intense fascination with Jesus’ blood—his literal blood. For instance, Eighteenth-century Moravians developed such a fascination and it came close to leading them into heresy. Fortunately, their leader, Count Von Zinzendorf, was able to inspire them to return to emotional and spiritual balance. Still, people like the woman in Ohio need to have a Biblical perspective on what is doubtless precious to her. Seeking that perspective seems a good idea as we come to Good Friday.
In the Authorized Version (King James Version), Paul uses the word “blood” thirteen times, just over half referring to the blood of Jesus. Nowhere does he speak of the believer being “covered with [or “by”] Jesus’s blood;” neither does any other Biblical writer. Nor do any of these writers speak of this blood as a kind of shield to protect the Christian from disease or danger.
In Philippians 2, which begins with what may have been an early Christian hymn celebrating Christ’s “death on a cross" and ultimate exaltation, Paul mentions his friend and co-worker Epaphroditus (2:25-27) who had been “… ill, near to death.” Fortunately, “God had mercy on him.” Though Paul clearly believes God was the source of Epaphroditus’s newfound health, he doesn’t say how God accomplished the cure. Was in an instantaneous recovery? Was it a gradual recovery?
The point is, Epaphroditus, a model Christian, got sick—some Bible scholars believe his sickness was caused by exposure to some disease encountered during his mission, malaria or dysentery perhaps. Later, Paul mentions another co-worker, saying, “I left Trophimus sick in Miletus” (2 Tim. 4:20). Again, that dear lady needs to know, Christians get sick. Christians are not immune to “the bugs” that plague their neighbors.
More important, when speaking of the benefits of Christ’s blood, the Biblical writers focus exclusively on the spiritual benefits of his blood (that is, his death).
In a passage generally believed by evangelicals to refer to the Messiah’s suffering, the prophet Isaiah says, “with his wounds we are healed” (53:5). Although, many groups use this verse to argue for physical healing being available “in the atonement,” the context seems to suggest the reference is to spiritual healing reflecting the “peace” that death made possible. So, Paul would later write the Colossians, “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.”
Surely an honest humility demands we stop using non-biblical terminology to arrogantly claim protection from the virus.
