Have you had the mumps—yet? What a ghastly question! You may expect to be asked if you had your morning cup of coffee yet—or even perhaps your daily Vitamin C supply yet. But mumps? Who would expect such a question?Mumps is said to be contagious—and it is. But what does "contagious" mean? Are we supposed to catch anything and everything that is contagious? Is it automatic? Is there such a law in the Bible?
Physicians tell us that mumps usually attacks children between ages 5 and 15. Consequently, we more or less expect our children to catch it. It is considered normal and even routine when they do. In fact, because parents know how disabling "childhood diseases" can be when an adult catches them, they sometimes go as far as to hope that their children will come down with these diseases as soon as possible! Their reasoning is that children usually recover rapidly from the "childhood" diseases, whereas the opposite is quite often true so far as adults are concerned.
Such reasoning is natural—and in a carnal way it makes some sense to the adult mind. Nevertheless, something is lacking in such thinking; something is misleading. If we only catch contagious diseases because they are contagious, then where is our responsibility in catching and spreading them? If children are bound to catch a "childhood" disease because of contagion, does sin fit into the picture?
We know from the Bible that sickness is a result of sin (Deuteronomy 28:58–61). Contagious diseases are not exempt from this law. Nor are the "childhood" diseases. But, then, how strange does it sound when a parent says, "I hope my children will catch measles or mumps before they grow older"? That is like hoping they will sin—or have their share of sin's penalty—as soon as possible, so that the ensuing punishment will be milder. When we think of it that way, we can see such thought as futile!
Of course, we never think of it in quite that way. But how often do we examine our responsibility when our children— or we ourselves—come down with a contagious disease? Often, even though we ask to be anointed, we assume that in our particular instance the responsibility was not really ours but was partly or even mostly someone else's—perhaps the fault of the person through whom we were infected.
A contagious disease is contagious, for sure—yet, when properly understood, we cannot call ourselves entirely guiltless in succumbing to one. Even when we cannot assign any personal guilt directly to ourselves for an illness, we are by our physical existence participating in a degenerate world into which much suffering has entered through the violation of God's laws (Romans 5:12). So, are we truly suffering because of our own sin, or because of others' sins, or because of society's sins? Our suffering from a contagion may not be just a question of mere time and chance.
Moreover, we cannot repent of someone else's sins—only of our own. It is not that when we are healthy and our neighbors are sick, we are somehow more righteous than they are. Rather, we must each examine ourselves to determine where we ourselves have broken God's laws, and what is our share of the sin that let us succumb to contagion (2 Corinthians 13:5).
Why Me?
I still remember the Friday afternoon, decades ago, when after returning home from work I told my wife that I had a strange sensation under my ear—possibly even a swelling. "Oh, dear, you're not coming down with the mumps, are you?" she chuckled. "You'll never live it down! At your age, it won't just be dangerous; it's going to be embarrassing."
It was—but not quite the way I had expected it to be. My embarrassment was not only before men, but also before God! Indeed, I had never thought of it before, but it suddenly occurred to me that if something is embarrassing before men, it must first of all be embarrassing before God. Truly, I did feel embarrassed for having caught the mumps. I felt embarrassed for the way I took the disease for granted—for my poor understanding of my necessary repentance at the time I was anointed for it.
As I tossed around in my bed, deep in thought—with my jowls practically hanging over my shoulders—I asked myself: "What did I actually do to catch the mumps? How come I got it? Where did I go wrong?" Since mumps is generally a childhood disease, and since disease is ultimately the result of sin, is there some sin more common to children than to adults? Or was I just irresponsible with my own health? Did I fail to take care of myself—and did sin play some part in that?
You might think I was delirious, but I was not! When you have much time to think, you try to be philosophical about things—and you follow a certain line of thought which somehow seems quite "logical" to you! Especially as we prepare for the Passover—which God's Church will observe in 2009 on Tuesday evening, April 7, after sunset— we need to be examining ourselves. My mumps certainly gave me ample time and material for self-examination!
Discerning My Responsibility
Sin can be physical or spiritual. But it is useless and nonsense to try to pinpoint any particular sin—especially in the case of a contagious disease—and label it as the single cause of mumps or measles or whooping cough. It just does not work that way. Even though sinful actions produce obvious results—for instance, if you have a bad fall, you may break a bone—nevertheless, sin is sin; whatever the extent, it still represents the transgression of God's laws.
In my particular case, I could think of a number of reasons why I should be down with the mumps—and each one, individually, would be valid, because each, individually, represented a transgression of God's laws. Granted, our human bodies are pitifully degenerate—but surely I must have my own share of responsibility in the matter. Surely I contribute to the general degeneration by the very life I lead in this present corrupt world. And surely my body—if it is properly taken care of—has sufficient antibodies to fight against any contagious disease! Did I— or do I—take care of my body the way God intended me to? In all this, have I fallen short? Have I neglected my responsibilities?
If you have allowed your body to be in a run-down condition, susceptible to catching any kind of disease, can you see how this is a kind of sin? And how about the fact of being careless—yes, exhibiting just plain carelessness—in faithfully following God's laws?
Think seriously! Do you really consider such carelessness as sin—either your sin personally, or the result of our sin-sick society, or both?
Any human beings, anywhere and anytime, are liable to catch any sickness (including, of course, the contagious ones), if they have been careless of diet, careless of sleeping habits, careless regarding physical exercise, careless of the rules of hygiene, careless of…
As an aside, this type of enumeration reminds me of an amusing record I once heard at Mr. Herbert W. Armstrong's home. On that record, former President Lyndon B. Johnson was naming ad infinitum all the medical doctors who were consulted when he suffered a simple cold! However, though President Johnson's list, by the laws of mathematics, was bound to come to an end, the list of human carelessness never can and never will.
Carelessness Is Sin
It is high time that we begin to associate carelessness with sin, because to be careless in keeping God's laws means plainly not keeping them. No justification or compromise is possible; living carelessly is like being half-alive!
It is easy—so very easy—to be careless. All it takes is the failure to use your head, or the neglect of what you ought to do. If you took time to think about these matters, to meditate seriously on what sin and its ramifications actually are, you would never be asking yourself, as I did, "Where did I get the bug? Who gave it to me? Was I bound to catch the disease because of its contagious nature?" Rather than seek the answers to such questions, and rather than blame someone else, you would search your heart to know where you have gone wrong, where you have failed in doing your share, where you have been careless, even negligent, in taking proper care of God's temple.
And then, there is another phase. In cases of sickness— whether contagious or not—after we repent and are anointed, we sometimes tend to believe that if God, in His infinite mercy, allowed our plans to be changed, it was to protect us from another calamity or accident, a more serious one, perhaps, which otherwise would have been our lot. Let me explain this.
Did God Really Cause This?
Have you ever wondered, when you were sick or undergoing some hardship, just what was the underlying lesson God wanted you to learn? You should wonder, because there is always a lesson to learn in everything that happens in our life. But in so wondering, have you also assumed, subconsciously perhaps, a somewhat self-righteous attitude—seeking first to understand what other calamity you were spared, or the "meaning" of the adverse circumstances, rather than admitting you brought them on yourself?
I am sure you get the point. There is always—for each one of us—a lesson to learn in whatever happens to us. But all the changes brought in our lives as a result of such circumstances are not necessarily of God's doing—nor are they always a divine "sign" of His intervention. When our plans are upset—and, in such circumstances, they usually are— we tell ourselves, "It must be God's will." This way of thinking is rather convenient, since it lets us de-emphasize our personal responsibility! In other words, in our eagerness to rationalize the "divine" intervention, we forget our own role—whether personally, or simply by living in today's degenerate world—in creating the mess we are in.
No doubt, God can and does—when He so chooses—intervene in a dramatic way in our lives, causing our plans to be upset, our decisions to be reversed, trips and appointments cancelled, and all sorts of such disturbances. However, more often than not, such upset of our plans is imposed on us by our own actions—and not necessarily commanded by God.
My Plans Upset
The same was true, to be sure, in the case of my mumps. "My" mumps—in this particular case, for once, I hated that adjective "my." In my vanity, I found myself more preoccupied to understand just why God allowed sudden changes in my plans and schedule, rather than to understand the part I played in the matter. For one thing, I knew my sickness would set me back in my work; it would prevent me making new broadcasts to the French-speaking people for some length of time, and of course would upset my regular schedule as well as all of my immediate plans. "Why—oh, why did God allow this to happen?" I asked myself, quite oblivious to the reasons for my catching the mumps, as though He were responsible for it.
I reflected that we were expecting a visitor from Europe— the teenage daughter of close friends from Belgium. Both she and we—especially our children—had been looking forward to her visit. Because our visitor would speak only French, my children would be forced to converse with her in that language. What an excellent opportunity this would be for them! But because of my mumps, we had to postpone her trip; just a few hours before her departure, we contacted her parents to call it off, at least temporarily.
Now, was this necessarily God's will? It could have been, of course. But was it really? I presume you can be philosophical about it and reason your way around, looking for all kinds of plausible arguments to prove that such was necessarily the case. But would it be true?
You might say, perhaps, that God stopped our visitor from flying that day because her plane might have crashed. Actually it did not; the plane landed very safely. You might think of many other reasons. But please try to see the point. Whatever the circumstances, even though "all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28), we are on dangerous ground when we forget that we have sinned— when we blind our eyes to the ultimate cause behind the need to change our plans.
As you see, it all depends on how you look at things— and just how close you are to God. But no matter how you look at things, you cannot justify your sins, your failure to uphold your God-given responsibilities.
What else was disrupted by my mumps? I had been scheduled to visit Barbados, Trinidad and Martinique along with the Deputy Director of the Foreign Work. Of course, we had to call off our visit temporarily. Was this God's will? Once again, it could have been, but I had no proof. Later I found out that the Deputy Director had to handle an urgent matter in South Africa at that very time; in the sudden change of plans, I could see God's direction quite obviously.
But the point remained: whatever the "cause," I had to avoid rationalizing. When our plans are shattered by illness or accident, instead of looking out for reasons why it happened to be that way, we must first examine ourselves to see what we have done wrong. Then we must repent of it, and trust God to let things work out the best possible way.
If God, in His infinite wisdom, uses certain circumstances in our lives to make us do—or abstain from doing—a certain thing, will this make us less guilty of our wrong actions? Can we consider ourselves less guilty because something good came out of it all by the grace of God? If we maintain such a wrong attitude, we may miss out on the opportunity to repent deeply for having been careless, and not having upheld our responsibilities the way we should have, rather than justifying or rationalizing the circumstances!
We ought to straighten out our views and see things the way they actually are. If we do our share, God will always do His. He has promised to heal us, and it is by Christ's stripes that we are healed (1 Peter 2:24). Part of "doing our share" is that we must come to recognize our share of guilt in catching a contagious disease. Then, if we discern how God— through His mercy—has worked things out for the best, we should be ever more grateful to Him.
Yes, It Was Embarrassing!
I had to be well past my teenage years—to be a man in his forties—before I could finally say, sadly, that at last I had had the mumps. Yet it is only since then that I have fully grasped the meaning of "childhood" or contagious diseases, which are often looked upon as unavoidable. I was accustomed to taking them for granted, deemphasizing the role of "sin" in their spread. The words "childhood" or "contagious" had somehow misled my thinking, making me—subconsciously perhaps—disassociate them from sin.
It was embarrassing!
But my worst embarrassment, as I came to understand, was before God! I was embarrassed for having overlooked my part in today's human degeneration. I was embarrassed for having acted rather self-righteously in the presence of a childhood or contagious disease. I was embarrassed for having been careless in doing my part; embarrassed for my negligence in doing my share in keeping my body in top shape. I was embarrassed for not having fully discerned my guilt, and for having instead rationalized the consequences. No, I did not catch the mumps just because of someone who had not properly quarantined himself; I had my own part—a big part—in it, even though that part was at first overlooked and de-emphasized by the reasonings of my carnal mind (Jeremiah 17:9).
It was most embarrassing indeed!
Whether children or adults, we all are subject to catching a "childhood" or contagious disease, not necessarily just because of contagion, but because of sin under one form or another. Contagion is a result of sin, and we have all sinned (Romans 3:23). A "childhood" disease may be more serious when contracted by adults, because adults are more directly responsible for their actions—they should know better how to take care of themselves, so it should be no wonder that the penalty can be expected to be heavier.
My wife was right. Having mumps was an embarrassing experience; not just before men, but especially before God— because sin is always against Him.
I learned quite a bit from my experience with the mumps. In its ugliness, and with all the inconveniences it caused, it brought about a self-examination that taught me important lessons. Now, when the opportunity presents itself, I think twice and ponder the meaning of my words before I consider asking someone, "Have you had the mumps yet?"