Full Circle

Covid ICU. Credit: NBC News

A year ago, on Friday, April 10th, 2020, I came off the ventilator in Covid ICU. Last night, one of our patients came off the ventilator in Covid ICU.

I lived. She died. And I don’t know what to make of that.

I was her chaplain. I had just finished praying the rosary for her when I learned she was going on comfort care. Life support would be stopped. Pain and anxiety relief would stay. Very soon, the order came through.

The nurse, the nurse assistant, the respiratory therapist and myself were with her when the breathing tube was removed. The nurse assistant and I held her hands while the respiratory therapist tended to the necessary tasks of extubation. The nurse stroked the patient’s hair.

She had no chance of survival. She couldn’t breathe on her own. I watched as the light faded from her face. I told her, “You’re going to heaven now.” I said a prayer of commendation as the life left her eyes.

Covid patients don’t die alone. They die with us, their healthcare workers. We were her family in the final hours and minutes of life. That was a blessing—of a kind. And yet the language of blessing fails in this pandemic time.

I am blessed to be alive. Or am I merely fortunate? After all, I lived and she died. I don’t know what to make of that, and doubt I ever will.

— Nelsonia

The narcissist

Viruses don’t care about us. They are the ultimate selfish person, the malignant narcissist. Viruses only want to use us.

Viruses don’t care if they make us sick. They don’t care if we die. They care about one thing — making as many copies of themselves as possible. Moving from one body to another to do so. One household to another. One city, state, or country to another. They are relentlessly self-centered and mindlessly mobile in pursuit of their objective.

Viruses don’t care about our plans, desires or motivations. All that matters to them is that another body is nearby when they force its host to cough or sneeze. They prey on our desire for connection. They hunt us down as we peacefully enjoy a concert or worship God in his many sanctuaries. These are merely opportunities for narcissistic reproduction.

Viruses don’t care about our values. They have no compassion or compunction. They live without regret. They are alive only in the sense that zombies are — to mindlessly consume people. They are the adversary who must be killed before they kill us. This is war.

We can win this war.

We already know how to defeat this enemy. Isolate the sick. Quarantine the infected. Keep distance from strangers. Shun crowds. Stay home.

These methods are repellent to our human nature. We want to congregate, we enjoy gathering with friends. It’s natural to shake the hand of a new acquaintance or hug an old friend. But these are dangerous impulses now, motivated by our yearning to connect with others, yet co-opted by the virus to further its self-centered objectives.

But it is precisely these antisocial tactics that will ultimately overcome the virus. Because the quarantines and self isolation, the travel bans and shut downs of social gatherings are not antisocial at all. They are how we love our neighbor during these dangerous times. Keeping distance from our neighbor actually helps our neighbor, because it protects them from us, and us from them.

Social distancing is social. It’s an expression of love. For love sacrifices. Love does the hard but right thing. Love thinks of others, before it thinks of itself.

In the battle between the coronavirus and humans, love is going to win. Because like any narcissist, the coronavirus has a weakness. It lives for itself. But human beings live for love.

Putting my cards on the table

I’ll be writing often about science and religion in this blog. If this topic interests you, read on.

I think it’s only fair that I put my cards on the table. One thing I’ve learned in ministry is that it’s almost always best to air one’s unspoken assumptions. This avoids a lot of guesswork and the misreading of intent. Knowing my assumptions will also help you decide if you want to read this blog and recommend it to others.

So here are seven assumptions that I bring to my discussions of science and religion:

1. There is a personal, creator God.

2. Jesus was the physical and spiritual incarnation of this God on earth. He really lived. He really died.

3. Jesus rose from the dead, meaning he came back to life in a transformed body, in a way that we do not.

4. The scientific method is a valid, truth finding discipline that yields reliable knowledge about the universe and everything in it.

5. Scientific knowledge is not absolute but progressive, because science is based on experimentation and theory and each are continually advancing.

6. Science and religion must work together because truth is one.

7. If there is an irreconcilable conflict between a truth of science and a truth of religion, I will side with science, with the understanding, however, that all scientific findings are provisional, even the most certain. Science is like the limit theorem, always approaching the truth but never quite reaching it. Therefore, subsequent discoveries may resolve conflicts that today appear irreconcilable.

As I’m sure is obvious, I bring some Christian non-negotiables to the table. That said, if irrefutable evidence of Jesus’ bones were discovered tomorrow, I would have to reconsider the doctrine of the Resurrection, and perhaps much else. Some religious teachings are vulnerable to disproof, and the Resurrection is one of them. I don’t always like that aspect of science, but I respect it.

Finally, I believe that truth is one, that logical contradictions call for resolution, and that peace of mind is worth some work. I value intellectual integrity a great deal, and will work hard to achieve it, even at the expense of cherished beliefs (more about that in an upcoming post). Fortunately, I have yet to surrender a core Christian belief due to a scientific finding. May that ever be. Amen.

The Two Books of God. Day 13.

I believe that Book of Science needs to become part of religious worship because the Book of Science is true, and all truth is of God. We need hymns that draw not only from the beautiful passages from the Bible, but also from the majestic realities of the universe.

This is a hymn written by me and my brother Brian Nelson, titled Praise God, the Lord of Space and Time. Here I interweave our knowledge of the universe with the beliefs of the Christian faith. I offer this song as the final post of the series Two Books of God.

My hope is that – whatever sacred text you read – the Book of Science will be a trusted guide that explains new dimensions of God and points out the glories of the Universe. May the God of your understanding keep you in awe and wonder always.

Praise God, the Lord of Space and Time

Praise God, the Lord of space and time,
Who made the earth and sky,
The One who set the stars aflame
And lifted mountains high.

Praise God, who made the tree of life
And sowed the world with flowers.
Who formed the beasts and gave them food
And made all good things ours.

Praise God, the Seeker of the lost
Who clothed himself in flesh.
The One named Jesus died for us
And left all creatures blessed.

Praise Christ, the King, who shall return
To make creation new.
The universe will hum with joy
And trees sing allelu.


Text: Eric D. Nelson, b. 1963
Tune: GALILEO, 86 866; Brian J. Nelson, b. 1967
© 2013, International Liturgy Publications
PO Box 50476, Nashville, TN 37205
www.ILPmusic.org, 888-898-SONG
All rights reserved. International copyright reserved.

The Two Books of God. Day 8.

Wonder D. M56. This star cluster is Messier Object 56. (Messier was the astronomer who discovered it.) M56 is a globular cluster, a ball of ancient stars that lies outside our galaxy. Globular clusters were often mistaken for comets before the era of telescopes, because they look like fuzzy balls of light to the naked eye. But they are not comets; they are tiny satellite galaxies that orbit our own.

There are over 150 of these globular clusters, arranged in a halo around the Milky Way. They are 10 billion years old, more than twice as old as Earth. But without powerful telescopes and the insights of astronomers, they would only be hazy patches of light, rather than the glorious fireworks display shown this image. What other glories of God are awaiting discovery in the unturned pages of the Book of Science?