Too privileged to panic?

When news of the Coronavirus broke out in January, I was saddened by the news but it didn’t cause me to panic. The situation seemed to be contained to the Chinese in Wuhan, and the warnings of a worldwide pandemic seemed like a severe overreaction. As fake news from the ‘Department of Diseasology Parramatta’ began to circulate on WhatsApp, the Coronavirus became one big joke and anyone who expressed concern was quickly shamed or dismissed. No thanks mum – I’m not going to be one ‘one of those Asians’ who wears a face mask on a plane.

In February, as airports began to close and the virus began to spread in other countries, panic began to build. Supermarket shelves began to empty and Australia quickly became a nation famous for throwing punches over toilet paper. The majority of the nation shook our heads in disbelief and judged what we perceived to be sheer stupidity. Still calm, and with a box of environmentally friendly ‘Who Gives A Crap’ toilet paper sitting proudly in my garage, I patted myself on the back for my remarkable resilience in these testing times, and even smugly gave myself a spiritual thumbs up for having a greater hope than paper and pasta.

This week, Italy went into lockdown, Tom Hanks was tested positive in the Gold Coast, Kikki-K went into administration, the Sydney Easter Show was announced to be cancelled, and then my mother woke up with a sore throat. Suddenly, the threat became real. The threat is real if it’s going to affect people I love. The threat is real if even a Western country goes into lockdown. The threat is real when we realise that the privileges we cling to for security: wealth, achievements, Western medicine, and dare I say toilet paper – is in fact a flimsy and false confidence.

And so I called up my mum and begged her to IMMEDIATELY see a doctor (she told me to be reasonable and not to panic). I checked all my soap dispensers to make sure that we had enough. I went to war at Woolworths for hand sanitiser – and lost the battle. I started reading every single research paper available on the topic, and even jumped on the #flattenthecurve bandwagon. It’s funny how a single week of events can change the sentiment of people in crisis, and that it’s now suddenly ‘cool’ to panic.

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I have been reflecting on my own actions and inaction over the past few months, and it made me realise something about myself. I hate to admit it, but I was too privileged to panic. I barely reacted to the ‘threat’ of a pandemic, because I’m not an at-risk person. I’m young and relatively healthy. I’m not dependent on medication. I don’t have children to look after. I have a roof over my head. My husband is employed. We have family and friends we can turn to in crisis. If I was to catch the virus, the mortality rate for my age group is very low. Have you began to notice how many times I have used the word “I”?

In thinking this way, I have failed to love my neighbour. I have failed to consider how my actions (or inaction) affects the weak and vulnerable around me. The risk of death for me is low, but I have a special-needs nephew in primary school who can barely deal with a common cold without seizures and potential hospitalisation. I know single mums who are anxious about their income, or worse, leaving behind children abandoned without care. I know healthcare workers who already feel overwhelmed, and are feeling increasingly apprehensive as Australia edges closer to the outbreak curve. Closer to home, my grandmother told me she’s afraid of walking to the shops and getting knocked out for trying to buy toilet paper! When crisis hits, it’s the poor, elderly, weak and vulnerable who suffer.

And so I’m thankful for the many Christian leaders out there who are more courageous than I, and are calling the church to respond in love. I am thankful for Christian friends who haven’t been afraid to admit that they are scared. I am thankful for influencers who are sharing their research and informing their communities on how to prevent an outbreak. I am thankful for the many reminders that now is the opportune time to love our neighbours and to share the hope we have in Christ in real and tangible ways.

If you are sitting in a position of privilege with your age, health, income or circumstances, let me encourage you to not judge those who are panicking. Instead, why don’t we consider how we can use our privilege to serve others with love and good deeds? No matter who we are, at risk or not, we can all take active steps to prevent an outbreak in Australia. We all have a social responsibility to love our neighbours, and to care for the vulnerable around us.

Here are some humble suggestions for what ‘loving our neighbour’ could look like today:

1. Following healthcare protocols: washing hands, social distancing, staying home if you feel unwell
2. Making sacrifices to lower the risk for the weak and vulnerable
3. Checking in on people who are isolated or living alone
4. Praying for strengthening and healing
5. Sharing what’s available on our supermarket shelves and leaving stock for others
6. Comforting people who feel afraid and giving space for people to share their anxieties
7. Delivering groceries to the elderly, needy or people in quarantine
8. Helping with child minding if schools shut down
9. Offering to carry the financial cost of small businesses or not-for-profits who have to cancel planned events
10. Checking in and showing gratitude to healthcare professionals
11. Gently reminding one another that even if we feel helpless, in Christ, things are never fully hopeless
12. Praying for the spiritual health of the global church so that even if physical health falters, God’s people can be firm beacons of love, hope and peace in an anxious world.

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The Aussie culture celebrates those who are ‘chill’, but in times like these, we have to question whether passivity is loving to our neighbours. This quote by Andy Crouch has challenged me all week, and inspired me to write and publish this post:

“A leader’s responsibility, as circumstances around us change, is to speak, live, and make decisions in such a way that the horizons of possibility move towards shalom, flourishing for everyone in our sphere of influence, especially the vulnerable.”

Dear church, let me humbly encourage you to look beyond your own needs, desires and circumstances. Let me encourage you to consider that now is the time to spur each other on in love and good deeds. After all, don’t we serve a King who gave up his privileges to serve us?

What do you think ‘loving your neighbour’ looks like in these times? How can you use your privilege to serve those in need?