By Rev. Dr. Andrea Ayvazian

God is not angry. That is my professional opinion as a member of the clergy.

We are living through a frightening, uncertain, sorrow-filled time so having bad theology circulating wildly on the internet — and that seems to be what is happening — only adds a further burden to our already heavy load emotionally and spiritually.

Several times over the last couple of weeks I have received the same Biblical passage in an email message, once in bright orange letters, once in red. Each time the passage is accompanied by the heading: “The Quarantine Is In the Bible.” The passage reads: “Go, my people, enter your rooms and shut the doors behind you; hide yourselves for a little while until his wrath has passed by.” Isaiah 26:20

Any even remote connection between the current pandemic and God’s wrath is bad theology at a time when so many people are seeking spiritual guidance, comfort and inspirational words — often looking to sacred texts — to help them endure, connect and have stamina and patience. Any suggestion right now that God is to blame, that God sent a plague, or that God needs to be placated is, in my mind, misguided and troubling.

People are trying to make meaning out of what is happening. But to understand the origins and spread of the coronavirus we need to look to cold hard science. To find hope in a time of despair, to gain solace and strength, we can look to theology.

Some Christians envision God as a person — often a white man — and refer to God as “Father.” Consequently, God is imbued with human characteristics, like anger. Currently, Biblical passages — flying around the internet — that refer to God’s anger are promoting the belief that the pandemic will resolve when God’s wrath has passed.

People of faith experience God in radically different ways. A professor of mine at divinity school used to say, “May you encounter God in different and surprising ways throughout your lifetime.”

Now at age 68, I can say that has been true for me. The granddaughter of a Congregational minister, I grew up inside the church. The God I envisioned and experienced as a child and young adult shifted when I became a Quaker in my 30s, shifted again when I became a mother, changed again when I went to Israel and walked where Jesus walked, and was transformed when I studied for the ministry.

My experience of God does not include envisioning a being in heaven with emotions like anger, but is instead a presence, an ever-pulsating energy that is pure love, compassion, justice, peace, inclusion, forgiveness, and a source of healing.

Many (possibly most) people of faith do not share my vision or experience of the Divine. And of course that is fine. If one does experience God as endowed with human characteristics, maybe we could imagine that God is now weeping in response to the coronavirus. And that maybe God, if you envision a human-like being, has the virus.

Turning away from Biblical passages that depict God as angry and needing to be mollified, many of us in our church in Springfield are instead lifting up and meditating on verses that bring comfort, that reflect God’s presence in times of fear and danger — passages we can turn to for solace in our sorrow. Those include the beloved Psalm 23 and the enduring message that “ … even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for thou are with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

Also the beautiful passage from Deuteronomy: “It is God who goes before you. God will be with you, and will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed” (31:8).

Of course, during these difficult days, weeks, and months, we are doing all we possibly can to keep ourselves and our communities safe. We are practicing all the measures instructed by the CDC and following the guidelines strictly and meticulously. We must, each one of us, do everything in our power to combat the virus. Knowing we are doing and will continue to do everything we humanly can do, many of us are clinging to the words in the Book of Joshua for inspiration: “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you…” (1:9).

Many people of faith are storming the heavens with prayers. Some people are relying on prayer and meditation practices they have turned to for years. Some folks are praying for the first time. I am hearing from church members that people are lifting both prayers of lament and prayers of thanksgiving. Prayers of lament for the suffering so many are experiencing, lamenting the pain, chronicling the fear, asking for help.

People are also lifting equally passionate prayers of thanksgiving — for medical personnel showing astonishing bravery and stamina, for employees who continue to come to work at grocery stores and pharmacies, for mail carriers in their masks faithfully coming to our doors, for delivery people bringing supplies, for sanitation workers serving our communities, for teachers instructing students online, and the list of who we are now grateful for goes on and on and on.

I do not know why or how prayer works. It is, I believe, mysterious and unknowable. But if you are praying, your prayers are probably helping to quiet your racing heart and bringing comfort to others.

I do not believe God is angry. I believe God’s love and compassion are powerfully visible each day in this crisis — helping, healing, caring, crying, connecting and stocking grocery shelves.

The Rev. Dr. Andrea Ayvazian of Northampton is an associate pastor at Alden Baptist Church in Springfield. She is a former pastor of Haydenville Congregational  Church and the founder and director of the Sojourner Truth School for Social Change Leadership, which offers free movement-building classes from Greenfield to Springfield. This article first appeared in the Daily Hampshire Gazette April 18, 2020.