A Cry to God from the Boardwalk.

Something strange happened this week. A strange situation bringing on an odd feeling. For the first time in my life, and for the first time ever in the lives of everyone who was not old enough to fight in the last World War, the closing of all pubs, coffee bars, cafes, restaurants, as well as gyms, swimming pools, golf courses and leisure centres in general, has all brought a kind of either a fearful or a melancholic shroud across the whole nation.

As someone said online, to tell an average Briton not to go to the pub is like telling a dog not to bark. Indeed, the old tavern and its unique atmosphere have been around within our shores for centuries. Even the early nineteenth-century author Charles Dickens wrote about how the young parochial runaway Oliver Twist was escorted into a tavern by Jack Dawkins the pickpocket. This goes to show that even in 1837 when the book was first written and the railway was in its fledgeling stage of development, the tavern was already a long-established social hub.

A pub in London.

And thus, this morning, the shutters remained closed over the entrance into Starbucks Coffee from Sainsbury's superstore, the latter with some of the shelving already cleared of essential items by panic-buyers, whose huge trolleys are filled to brimming as if to feed a regiment for weeks on end or to face an imminent famine of Biblical proportions. All of a sudden the world has changed to resemble an apocalyptic age, the sort of science-fiction movie scenario where the whole of humanity is facing extinction, whether by an intergalactic invasion or warfare - or from an unknown viral pandemic.

And so, no Starbucks cappuccino this morning for the first time since 2015, and looking as if I won't be sitting at that particular table with the newspaper spread out "until further notice" which really means indefinitely. Then if I were to ride past our local leisure centre, its main entrance would be shut and inside, the swimming pool steeped in deep silence and without a ripple, all the recently-installed gym apparatus standing quietly still, and the squash courts silent from the all-familiar crack of a small rubber ball hitting the wall with full force, which was one of my main pastimes throughout the late 1970s, into the eighties.

Never in my lifetime had I witnessed such lockdown on a national scale. Really, I find it all quite scary. Indeed, may the very last person leaving our planet please turn off the lights. But with Winter packing his bags and preparing to leave for another year as Spring lays his hand on Winter's shoulder from behind, there is a look of hope in the environment. The sun is higher in the sky during midday, the grass looks greener, birds sing in the trees as the bare branches prepare to bud into leaf, daffodils and crocuses beautify the lawns. In and around our ponds, two of them within the vicinity where we live, ducks, swans and geese intermingle with hardly a dispute among them all.

Usually, I love this time of the year. The Easter eggs sold in colourful packages means to me to be far more than a pleasant taste in the mouth. Rather they symbolise a rebirth of a new season when the whole land begins to bloom with colour as the weather gets warmer, the days longer and the nights shorter. And of course, for us Christian believers, the holiday commemorates the death of our Lord Jesus Christ by crucifixion, his burial and his resurrection three days later, on that early Sunday morning. Without a doubt, the most important three-in-one event ever to have taken place throughout the whole of human history. Such an event no human endeavour was ever able to match to this day, no matter how advanced scientific knowledge have reached.

But now something happened, and it's not at all nice. Something like a shroud covering the whole land. And all caused by a tiny invader which travelled in an aeroplane without first buying an air ticket. And so this unwelcome immigrant has taken hold, killing thousands across Europe and infecting many more. And Britain is not exempt.

With English posh boys setting off to the Alps for a school skiing holiday and then returning home infected, I find it an easy temptation to feel angry towards them. Spoilt brats, bringing misery and death to our land! But I'm also quick to admit that none of this was their fault. If they had already known about the epidemic before take-off, no doubt they would have cancelled the trip or switch to another destination. Therefore, there's no point in being angry. Only I would suffer the consequence and nobody else benefit.

But throughout the past week, I was literally trembling with fear. I admit I was afraid to die, leaving my beloved behind as a grieving widow, unable to live on her own due to the poorness of her own physical health, even if otherwise she's quite capable. But equally terrifying, if not more so, is the thought of watching her fall ill with the virus and die. With more than twenty years in a deep, loving relationship, how could I revert to life as a singleton? Indeed, in both cases, heaven can wait.

Image of Coronavirus.

Therefore what a terrible shock it was last Friday when I arrived home from swimming. There she was, lying on the sofa, coughing endlessly. As cold, naked fear took hold of me, I dialled 111 (a UK non-emergency contact with the NHS) and asked for advice. Since she had not left the UK, there was no Covid-19 test. Instead, she was told to remain indoors for the next seven days, which she had now completed. That same evening, her cough had quickly stopped as suddenly as it started. I was so much relieved. Earlier, after I phoned 111, I posted her condition on Facebook. One of my friends wrote back, saying that he "commanded the illness to leave her in the name of Jesus" aloud in his own home. Shortly afterwards, her coughing stopped, her eyes glowed like jewels, and felt a lot better. Whether her recovery was a direct link to the command or coincidental, I can never be sure.

This is because I have always been sceptical with these "healing ministries" after having some unsound experiences with them in the past. But there is one issue I will never doubt, and that is, God is with us. And I say this when I feel that God is not with us for one reason or another, whether due to a faulty faith or participating in some sin.

And as the days pass, my emotion rose to elation and fell to despair. And this fall to despair can happen suddenly and unexpectedly, triggered by a passing thought. And it was one afternoon when taking a stroll through a park when such a plunge into distress came upon me. A section of the park consists of marshland inhabited by a forest of tall reeds. A boardwalk crosses it. It was here, that I first made sure that I was alone, and have had to wait for a couple of people to disperse, I began to pray aloud, admitting our transgressions and calling on God to forgive, and to keep the virus from coming anywhere near us.

Such a prayer also included a confession that we have as a nation has transgressed, and sinned against him by turning away from the truth to embrace a lie, the lie of Darwinian Evolution in place of the belief in Divine Creation. As such, the Gospel has become non-effective as we pursue Science. 

O God, forgive our sins and send the Holy Spirit into our hearts and allow him to turn our hearts back to you, O God, and be saved.

With the threat continuing to close in, with the number of confirmed cases of infection rising, along with the corresponding number of deaths also rising as a result of the disease, I feel totally helpless, fearing my wife catching an infection, and totally powerless to stop it. It is during such feelings of despair that I need to remind myself of this piece of Scripture:

For God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting men's sins against them.  

2 Corinthians 5:19.

Therefore when, from time to time, I come across articles written by Christians saying that this coronavirus is a punishment sent by God to a nation for the sin of national apostasy, I cringe. Maybe God has allowed the virus to spread so rapidly, but I believe there is a big difference between God allowing such to happen and actually the disease sent by God. God in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting the trespasses of mankind against them - can be hard to believe at times but it's still true nevertheless. Today is the day of grace, of salvation. This is the year of God's favour, with the day of God's wrath still in the future, and it will remain in the future as long as the Church (universal body of Christians) is still here.

In the book of Revelation, a specific incident takes place where Jesus Christ the Lamb of God is standing before his Father. He then gives the Son a sealed scroll which no other man is worthy to open the scroll and to look inside - chapter  5. The reason for this is simple. Every one of us, both the angels and all mankind, are all God's creation. Therefore only the Creator is worthy to open the scroll, and Jesus Christ, the second person of the Trinity and therefore God himself, is indeed the Creator. Therefore the Earth can only be punished directly by God after this scroll has been opened. 

At present, the scroll is not open. It's still sealed. Therefore, this present coronavirus outbreak is not from either of the four apocalyptical horsemen sent from heaven, as these Christian writers make out to be. The scroll is not yet open and it will not be opened whilst all the churches are still here with us.

Only yesterday I had cycled to a garden centre in Bagshot, another town several miles from home, to buy some cactus feed. As I strolled along the aisle between displays, I found a quiet spot where I can pray without disturbing anyone, and there and then I felt that indeed, I am a son of God, a born-again Christian believer. And so is Alex my beloved wife. It was a moment of peace I felt within as I stepped outside to look at the water features on display for sale.

I have Asperger's Syndrome or AS. That means, in a fallen world, from gestation onwards, my brain is not wired up properly. This involves difficulty in casual group communication such as in a pub or restaurant. It shouldn't be looked down upon. One prominent BBC naturalist presenter, Chris Packham, not only has AS but he used his condition in his favour to be both a successful author and a TV presenter he is today. I know two more friends, both with AS, one with a high enough IQ to be a member of Mensa, and another with a PhD. Yet with me, it could well be Asperger's Syndrome which causes me to physically tremble with fear at the slightest threat.

BBC TV presenter and author Chris Packham.

It could be Asperger's Syndrome that opens a way for doubt of salvation to creep in, making me afraid of death and of Hell. It could be AS which causes me to think that Alex too will perish. And lately, my fears of this coronavirus could be stirred by AS. Actually, I personally believe it is.

I do believe with all sincerity that AS can breach a chink in my spiritual armour, allowing the adversary to push his lies through it. Asperger's Syndrome affects each patient differently. With me, it engenders fear but not necessarily in others with the same condition.

Although I have been a Christian believer for the last 47 years, I still yet to be freed from this malady.