Quarantine
My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; and my kinsmen stand far away. Psalm 38:11 NASB
Plague – Perhaps the modern world is finally uncomfortably familiar with this word, negaʿ. Translated “plague,” we discover that the root (nāgaʿ) is about touching. The noun, which we have in this verse, isn’t always about disease. It “refers to a physical blow, or to the punishment an overlord gives a subject. God is usually the one who metes out punishment and/or disease.”[1] In the ancient world, plagues were often considered divine retribution as if God’s “touch” was really a blow to the body. You find this idea in the arguments of Job’s friends. Now the psalmist reflects the same assumption. Whatever the actual condition of his physical being, he experiences the consequences like a plague. He’s quarantined. COVID-19 isn’t quite as new as we thought.
The Black Plague killed as much as 60% of the European population. In some cases, entirely communities were erased. Once the Plague became airborne, infection spread rapidly. Most died within five days of contact. Economically and socially, the Plague forever altered the structure of European civilization. New powers dominated as the old guard died. Perhaps the most significant long-term effect of the Plague was the collapse of religion. As it turned out, when people got sick, the first responders were the priests and nuns. The Church came to the rescue, only to be infected themselves. They died—by the hundreds. What was the explanation? God’s punishment for past sins. The Pope called for a special mass to seek forgiveness—and end the Plague, but it didn’t work. The ranks of the clergy were decimated, clearly indicating that there was a fatal, mortal sin within the Church itself. The long-term effect of this interpretation led to hopelessness among the population, a decline in belief in the Church, and the rise of cultural atheism. If God was punishing the religious people, why keep worshipping Him? If God won’t answer the prayers of the saints, what hope is there that He will hear ordinary parishioners? There were only two solutions: flee or forget. Unfortunately, running away didn’t help. The Plague was communicated from person to person so the only real flight solution was isolation, and that didn’t occur to a population who knew nothing about bacteria. The second solution was to forget—to forget God whom the Church promised would protect the believers. Venetians built an entire cathedral to Mary in hopes they would be spared. They weren’t. One-third of the people died. God didn’t answer. Why continue to believe?
Plagues have been a consistent factor in human history. Obviously, they played a major role in Israel’s emancipation, but they were also part of God’s punishment when Israel disobeyed. It’s a short step to imagine that any plague must be the result of God’s displeasure. But it’s not the plague itself that concerns the psalmist. It’s the isolation. Physical health is important, but what really matters in the ancient world is community. In fact, we know that being human means being communal. This is the true consequence of the plague, not dying but separation. Reminds you of Genesis 3, right? In the modern world, our pandemics might be medically managed, but the true impact isn’t physical recovery. It’s the loss of human connection—damage to our identities as persons. Isolation is the death of being human. Keep that in mind if you’re asked to live in a faceless, masked world—again.
Topical Index: plague, isolation, negaʿ, Psalm 38:11
[1] Coppes, L. J. (1999). 1293 נָגַע. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 552). Chicago: Moody Press.
