US ‘watching closely’ after plague researcher dies in Russia as reflected on by Rev. Dr. Evelyn DuBois
From Historic Bethel AME Church, we observe a neighborhood familiar with unseen dangers. News arrived: a laboratory worker died of plague in Siberia. World leaders announced they are “watching closely.” Our spirits must pause. Before this becomes another geopolitical talking point, our faith reminds us of this worker. Someone’s child and colleague lost their life. Our prophetic tradition begins every reckoning with the sacred worth of human breath. Therefore, the death of this plague researcher dies demands our attention.
Scripture in the Psalms assures us we need not fear the pestilence walking in darkness. Yet, wisdom demands we examine the vessels humans build to contain such terrors. For generations, laboratories worldwide have cultivated lethal pathogens. They claim “defense” and “scientific curiosity.” However, our mothers and grandmothers taught us a truth. Whatever seed a society sows in secret will eventually seek the open air. When nations hoard deadly pestilence, they gamble. They risk the collective future of God’s children everywhere.
Watching Closely: Faith and Power
Our people carry a long, painful memory. Disease and state power often intersect. We remember the neglect of marginalized communities during epidemics. We recall the historic abuses of medical experimentation. Therefore, our tradition keeps a watchful, discerning eye on institutions of power. Political leaders declare they are watching a distant laboratory strongly. We must ask what spirit animates that vigilance. Is it a genuine desire to safeguard the vulnerable? Or is it an appetite to turn tragedy into political theater? Does it heighten fear for tactical gain?
The prophet Micah asked what the Lord requires of us. He answered simply: do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God. Walking humbly means recognizing a vital truth. No border wall, military posturing, or geopolitical advantage truly isolates any nation from contagion. Consequently, an outbreak in a Siberian facility is not merely an adversary’s misfortune. It is a shared human hazard. The hubris that believes power alone can protect us from nature’s fiercest scourges is an ancient folly. Scripture repeatedly dismantles this belief. The news that a plague researcher dies reminds us of this shared vulnerability.
Cultivating Peace, Not Pestilence
In our sanctuaries, we teach our youth about genuine security. It roots itself in truth, transparency, and communal care. It does not come from suspicion and bravado. If nations truly concern themselves with biological perils, the moral response is clear. It requires collective stewardship, rigorous international oversight, and an end to secretive death cultivation. We cannot preach peace while quietly nurturing instruments of ruin. This applies whether through conventional munitions or microscopic horrors bred in cold isolation. Therefore, we must choose a different path.
The choir gathers to sing of perseverance through the storm. We lift up prayers for the soul of that fallen worker. We pray for all laborers whose daily bread is earned in hazardous shadow. We also pray for a moral awakening among those who hold governance levers. May our leaders abandon the rhetoric of posture and fear. Instead, may they choose the disciplined pursuit of global cooperation and public health justice. Only in such solidarity will any of our children find enduring peace. The death of a plague researcher dies in Russia highlights this urgent global need.
Leave a Reply