How much is a life worth?  It is a question that is asked frequently these days.  As nations around the world deliberate about "opening" themselves up again, their leaders are very much aware that, absent a complete eradication of the coronavirus, some people will continue to die.  Unfortunately, in many ways, this debate has been reduced to a simple utilitarian argument:  how much do we do to make the most people happy?  In other words, better to maximize happiness for the many rather than seek to maximize happiness for the few.  If some people die, well, so be it:  that's the price of the greater happiness.
     Ironically, democracy, the governmental system to which most nations, in some form, adhere, is essentially utilitarian, too:  the wishes of the majority win the day.  The losers must learn to live with the results.  But in the case of the coronavirus, the equation is not so simple.  Granted, some decisions a democratic majority makes will, whether it intends to or not, produce hardship, even death, for a portion of a given populace.  The decisions made in regard to the impact of the coronavirus, however, do not fall into the category of "unintended" consequences:  we know that our choices will result in death for some, perhaps many.  While according to epidemiologists the eventuality of a "herd" immunity is a given, this does not mean that all people will be spared or healed:  human beings will still die.
     I do not have any ready answers to this question.  Though I can set this debate in the theological dictum that all humans are made in the image of God and are therefore uniquely and infinitely valuable, I stumble when I juxtapose this thought with the specter of millions and millions inherently valuable human beings starving because, due to governmental restrictions, they cannot work:  where does one draw the line?  It is a dilemma which ought to force all of us to our knees and ask, in all humility and wonder, how are we to proceed?  Divine wisdom, human choice:  where do we go?