Is Covid-19 a punishment from God for our sins? Really?! How can this question even be asked? It is so offensive to the hundreds of thousands who have died from coronavirus to say they did something wrong. And what kind of God would unleash such a cruel disease that attacks our very breath?

“No,” says the modern rational person, “this is a natural virus, plain and simple. It’s biology, not theology. Right now we need doctors and vaccines, not rabbis and sermons.”

And yet the Jewish tradition teaches that everything that happens is due to God. This is a fundamental principle. “Said Rabbi Simon: There isn’t a single blade of grass that doesn’t have a force emanating from heaven to push it and say to it, ‘Grow!’” (Genesis Rabbah 10:6).

Our daily prayers, time and again, assert God’s complete authority over this world. God is Adon Olam, “Lord of the universe”, and Baruch she’amar vehayah ha’olam, “The Blessed One who spoke and the world came into being.”

And God cares for us all personally too, as we say in the morning blessings, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who provides me with all I need.”

For the faithful Jew, who has always looked to God for guidance and support, the spiritual implications of a global pandemic cannot be ignored. Indeed, from a religious perspective, how could God not be responsible for coronavirus?

In such a time of uncertainty, lurching from lockdown to lockdown, nobody really has the mind to address this, including me. But on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, when we ask, “Who will live and who will die?” and when we confess, “You know the secrets of the universe… Nothing is hidden from You… forgive us for our errors”, this dilemma is unavoidable.

I don’t want to give up on my faith in Almighty God, but I cannot disregard the science of contagion either. Surely we should be able to embrace both, without loss of passion and respect for either?

The Talmud (Berachot 5a) is instructive here, “Rava, and some say Rabbi Hisda said: If a person sees that suffering has befallen them, they should examine their actions, as it is stated, ‘Let us search and examine our ways, and return to God’ [Lamentations 3:40].”

This implies that suffering has come because of your sins and so you must reflect and repent. But it can be read in another, less finger-pointing, way: when suffering befalls you, take it as an opportunity to reflect, repent and improve yourself.

“Be the change you want to see in this world,” as Gandhi famously said. This moves us from blame to responsibility, from punishment to possibility. But which reading is correct?

The Talmud then continues, “And If you examine your ways and find no fault, then you can attribute [literally, “hang”] your suffering to neglecting to learn Torah.” Again, this can be read in two ways. If your behaviour is good, then your suffering is either (a) a divine punishment for not spending more time learning Torah or (b) due to your limited perspective and so you must learn more deeply so you can comprehend the nature of cause and effect and the notion of divine providence.

Then the Talmud concludes, “And if you examine your Torah study and find no fault, be sure that these are afflictions of love, as it is stated: ‘For whom God loves, God rebukes’ [Proverbs 3:12].” Now, I honestly think, my second reading wins out here: suffering is not your fault, it is because God loves you.

How is this love? We only rebuke the ones we love, because they matter to us the most. And we only truly accept rebuke from those that love us, because we know that they have our best interests at heart.

The way I see it, God created this world with infinite diversity and complexity. A garden of opportunity for us all. But the cost of biological diversity is disease and infection. God built this into nature.

The only question is how you respond to it, as Rabbi Chanina said, “All is in the hands of Heaven, except for the reverence of Heaven” (Berachot 33b). We always have a choice how to respond to what happens to us. In The Lord of the Rings Gandalf put it succinctly, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

I see God as a loving and enabling teacher rather than an authoritarian school master. This terrible virus is not a punishment. It is what it is.

But my faith teaches me to take it as an opportunity to shift my perspective. To examine my ways. To deepen my commitment to those I love. To take care in all I do. And to make the most of the time that has been given.

Rabbi Zarum is dean of the London School of Jewish Studies