Camus, Job, and Holy Prayer

Like everyone, my eyes and ears stay glued to the news and updates throughout the day regarding the status of the coronavirus. Shortly after noon time, I saw a map of the world on the television screen. With the color red noting the various areas where the COVID-19 has invaded the human population and continued to spread, I saw red everywhere. Participants in the White House news conference reiterated the government’s effort to “flatten the curve.”

The pandemic has reminded me of a book that was required reading in one of my religion classes at Florida Southern College. Titled “The Plague” and written by the existentialist Albert Camus, Camus was deeply concerned about the problem of human suffering in an indifferent world. In his book, Camus addressed the collective response to catastrophe when a large city in Algeria is isolated due to an outbreak of the bubonic plague. Camus did not believe that suffering and human existence had any intrinsic or rational meaning. Life for Camus was irrational and absurd.

Camus was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1957. It has been reported that shortly before his death in 1960, Camus may have had a change of heart regarding his atheism. For the majority of his life, the widely known philosopher and writer believed that a person who is alone, without God or a master, can only experience long and dreadful days. And that is what he did. However, I remember reading several years ago where Camus had developed a meaningful friendship with a priest and there is some speculation that his ideas about God and the meaning of life were maybe entering a stage of transformation. And yet, we will never know. A car accident took his life in France when he was only 46 years of age.

With the  coronavirus all around us, schools, businesses and churches closed, the volatility of the stock market, people sheltered in place at home, and medical personnel working long, hard hours, the issues of human suffering and the absurdity of life rise to the surface again. As a Christian, I readily acknowledge the problem of human suffering and what looks like the absurdity of life, the ups and downs that make no sense. At the beginning of the day, at midday, and at the end of the day, I place my trust in the God who rendered care, comfort and a new beginning to the person of Job who had suffered the loss of health, family, wealth and property. Job was not a happy man. He challenged God with his questions offering no mild protest. In the midst of his suffering, God was always near and before all was said and done, Job reconciled with God.

So, what do we do when we encounter a mess like we have on our hands? I remember the story told by our good friend Andrew Purves (the Scotsman from Edinburgh and Seminary Professor of Reformed Theology, Pittsburgh Seminary, now Honorably Retired). Andrew had been leading a workshop for a church in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. When the morning session was over, participants filed out of the room on their way to lunch that was to be served in the Fellowship Hall. One person remained. She approached the table where Andrew was standing and tending to his papers preparing for the afternoon session. She explained to Andrew that she had lost her husband and son, and had lost the capacity to pray. “Where is God?” she asked.

Andrew encouraged the woman to pray and to share what was truly in her heart and soul with the explanation that there was nothing that she could pray that would offend the Lord. And so he watched and listened carefully as the woman walked to a corner of the room, bowed her head, folded her hands and prayed, “Expletive deletive! Expletive deletive!” And this is what Andrew says about that prayer, “My friends, that was a holy prayer.” May our prayers in this time of trouble be holy, too.

The gospel says that the Spirit led Jesus into the desert for forty days. At the beginning of Lent, we talked about our entering the desert, a place of trial and temptation. Well, we really find ourselves in the desert now. Let’s keep our heads remembering who we are in Christ and to whom we belong for it is as the Psalmist declared, “The Lord heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. The Lord sustains the humble and delights in those who live in awe and reverence of his presence, who put their hope in his unfailing love.” (Psalm 147)

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Steve Keeler, Pastor