This one was written by Shaun Roach.

Coronavirus has turned out to be the largest religious (anti-)gathering of our day. The holy voices are loud and clear. Do not touch your face! Do not shake hands! Do not go out to eat! It feels like fourth-grade-Catholic-school-English class all over again.

If you’re like me, you’re OK following the coronavirus-to-do-list. What has proven to be significantly more difficult is the coronavirus-what-to-say-list.

I’m a financial advisor. That means I’ve received more phone calls this week than I have in my entire four-year career. More importantly, I’m a new dad. Which means that when I get home, the ringing is even louder. Luckily, my baby is also cute.

As the work phone rings, I rapidly sift through my mental Rolodex of financial-psychology verbiage. As I check my cell phone, I feel the heavy pull from social media, begging me to post something. But what? If my post says “look-at-the-facts-and-calm-down-people,” I risk seeming like an anti-science extremist. If the message is “this-is-serious-stay-at-home,” my small group could think I don’t trust Jesus anymore. And while there’s no shortage of corona-humor in the meme-universe or on “The Daily Show,” anyone who laughs during a time like this faces crucifixion for the unforgivable crime of insensitivity.

It seems that COVID-19 is exposing the truth about how religious we all are. Your response must be right. If there was any room for grace or forgiveness before, it’s gone now. This is too serious for grace.

This weekend, I’ve found solace in the voice of my screaming one-month-old baby girl.

Her voice is direct and honest, and she has nothing to prove.