Love in the time of coronavirus
Psalm 23
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
March 22, 2020
Sometimes the lectionary is incredibly timely. This week it’s downright spooky.
Lord, you are my shepherd; I shall not want. *Sigh*
Jewish commentary from the 11th century tells us that David wrote this psalm while he was on the run from King Saul, who wanted to end David’s life. David himself was a shepherd, as was Moses and Jacob before him. God seemed to be in the habit of choosing leaders who, although they were far from perfect, had a heart of care and compassion and courage.
This week I have encountered stories of brave, compassionate, caring, imperfect people living in the shadow of the valley of a pandemic, as all of us are. I’d like to share a few of them with you.
A friend who lives in Colorado texted the following:
“Well, I finally lost it…
“Was just in Walmart. Saw a man whose cart was FULL to the brim with hand sanitizers, baby wipes, soaps, everything that people need!
“I called him a greedy a..hole, and gave him a low down about the elderly, immunocompromised, and people who need these types of things. Told him should be ashamed of himself!
“He said, ‘Are you done? ‘Cause I really need to get back to filling the shelves now…’
“I’ll be shopping at Costco for a while.”
I know what she means. Earlier this week I stopped at Walgreens to pick up a few necessities. When I came back out to the parking lot, there were two cars idling away. On a sunny, 50⁰ F day. Did you know that it’s against the law to idle for more than 5 minutes in the city of Newark? I was *this* close to standing in the parking lot and spouting at the top of my lungs for people to shut off their engines.
This enforced social distancing, the stress of keeping ourselves and others well, the anxiety about supply lines and income and healthcare and bills, and how this affects those who are already vulnerable is already starting to take a toll on our emotional well-being. And this is only the beginning of what could be a long haul.
On Friday morning I had a Zoom meeting with colleagues in the Chesapeake Association. I was late to the meeting and signed on as quickly as I could. As I turned on the sound on my computer I heard one of my colleagues blurt out the f-bomb followed by the word “off” and I thought I was coming in at the tail end of a rant. Turns out he was on the call on his phone but in his car and someone had just cut him off and crossed three lanes to get off the highway. I replied, “Good morning to you too!” and we all had a good laugh.
I read an article about the closure of most thru-hike trails like the Pacific Crest Trail, the Continental Divide, and the Appalachian Trail, expressing to hikers the severity of this crisis because some hikers are stubbornly continuing with their plans, much like many beachgoers, college students on spring break, and a few dangerously misguided churches. The article is filled with tons of data and statistics and sources for all that information, laid out with a cogent argument for every objection or how someone will take every precaution with the exception of the most important one. Even so, the f-bomb found its way here too, like a raucous, barking sheepdog: “I will figure out a way to prevent spreading the virus when I go into town.” “No. No, you will not figure out a way to prevent spreading the virus. Do you know why? Because we already know how to prevent spreading the virus and it’s called ‘staying the f**k home’.” (Bold print is from the source.)
A friend told story of an older gentleman sitting outside the window of the healthcare facility on lockdown where his wife lives. For the last four years since his wife’s stroke, this gentle being has visited his wife faithfully, keeping to the covenant of ‘in sickness and in health’. Their daughter suggested an online visit but instead they took a page from the Italians singing to one another from their balconies and this 86 year old man drew a chair beside her closed window and visited with her as much in person as he was safely allowed to. How is it that love endures more than it ever thought it could?
And because it never disappoints, I asked friends on Facebook what is helping them the most; how are they shepherding themselves and others through this time.
You’re enjoying chocolate and coffee and family, pets and children and friends, long-distance connections, people who haven’t heard from you in a while. Nothing like heartbeats other than our own. Some of you have got financial and job privilege, you’re leaning on your faith in God, a partner who loves you, whom you love. Some of you are praying and taking naps throughout the day as needed, working on home projects, the honey-do list, and artwork.
Vodka. Bourbon. Wine. Virtual cocktail parties.
You’re reading books on audio and turning pages. You’re indulging in living room spa time. You’re crying.
Those who are shut in are still able to see friends, one or two at a time.
You’re providing music for others to enjoy and worship with.
You’re maintaining as much normalcy as possible, keeping a spiritual direction appointment but on Skype.
Shutting off screens for a while. Choosing the news you read.
A college friend who is housebound and in bed most of the time now gives thanks for her mindset; she’s used to a lifestyle most of us are now having to adjust to.
It helps to know we’re all in this together.
Online TV and movies and concerts. Music. Lots and lots of music. Classic rock and roll. Mantras and chanting. Watching the Met Opera online.
T’ai Chi and whatever else helps us to de-stress.
You’re enjoying the beautiful weather and walks on nature trails.
Some of you are working.
Exercising. Putting together a puzzle.
Playing board games and online games with friends.
Balancing ‘needing to know’ with ‘needing to breathe’.
Helping others. Helping families with groceries and delivering meals to seniors.
Watching spring unfold. Yard work. Fresh air. Tending to plants.
Paying attention to the birds and how they just go about their business.
Meditating. Practicing acceptance.
Having a routine.
Resting in the knowledge that right now in this moment we’re ok, our babies are ok, and our families are ok.
Telehealth laws. Access to medication.
Voices of loved ones over the phone.
Cough medicine with codeine and a sense of humor.
Medical marijuana.
Sleep.
None of us have ever been here before. In a tumultuous time when we are experiencing a leadership vacuum, each of us and all of us together are filling that void by becoming the shepherds we need, with our own inner guide, sheltering in place, sheltering each other. We are the voices of reason and compassion that will guide us all through this valley. We can’t afford to judge each other or expect others to manage the way we’re managing. We’ve never been able to afford that but now it’s imperative. It’s going to get rough, extremely so for those who don’t have what we do. It’s time to keep our heads connected to our hearts and use them wisely, not only for ourselves but for the most vulnerable of the human flock, those whom Jesus called ‘the least of these’. Because…
Love is my shepherd
I shall not hoard
Love makes me self-isolate
Love leads me to wash my hands
Love restores my soul
Love for myself and my neighbor directs me to the CDC
Even though I live in the shadow of a pandemic
I fear no evil
For I am not alone
Restrictions and dedicated hospital staff
They comfort me
Love sets a table for me with those who engage in magical thinking
Love reminds I have more than I need
I give from my abundance
May goodness and mercy follow
All that I do
And may we have the grace
To live through this
Amen.
Benediction – enfleshed.com
Goodness and mercy go with us from here.
Relentlessly, they pursue us.
Even in the midst of valleys that make us tremble,
even when evil draws near,
still the gifts of God will not yield.
Sacred provisions surround us.
Let us go in the confidence of God’s care for us
as we follow Jesus wherever Love leads.
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
March 22, 2020
 |
| Psalm 23 by Alyse Radenovic |
Sometimes the lectionary is incredibly timely. This week it’s downright spooky.
Lord, you are my shepherd; I shall not want. *Sigh*
Jewish commentary from the 11th century tells us that David wrote this psalm while he was on the run from King Saul, who wanted to end David’s life. David himself was a shepherd, as was Moses and Jacob before him. God seemed to be in the habit of choosing leaders who, although they were far from perfect, had a heart of care and compassion and courage.
This week I have encountered stories of brave, compassionate, caring, imperfect people living in the shadow of the valley of a pandemic, as all of us are. I’d like to share a few of them with you.
A friend who lives in Colorado texted the following:
“Well, I finally lost it…
“Was just in Walmart. Saw a man whose cart was FULL to the brim with hand sanitizers, baby wipes, soaps, everything that people need!
“I called him a greedy a..hole, and gave him a low down about the elderly, immunocompromised, and people who need these types of things. Told him should be ashamed of himself!
“He said, ‘Are you done? ‘Cause I really need to get back to filling the shelves now…’
“I’ll be shopping at Costco for a while.”
This enforced social distancing, the stress of keeping ourselves and others well, the anxiety about supply lines and income and healthcare and bills, and how this affects those who are already vulnerable is already starting to take a toll on our emotional well-being. And this is only the beginning of what could be a long haul.
On Friday morning I had a Zoom meeting with colleagues in the Chesapeake Association. I was late to the meeting and signed on as quickly as I could. As I turned on the sound on my computer I heard one of my colleagues blurt out the f-bomb followed by the word “off” and I thought I was coming in at the tail end of a rant. Turns out he was on the call on his phone but in his car and someone had just cut him off and crossed three lanes to get off the highway. I replied, “Good morning to you too!” and we all had a good laugh.
I read an article about the closure of most thru-hike trails like the Pacific Crest Trail, the Continental Divide, and the Appalachian Trail, expressing to hikers the severity of this crisis because some hikers are stubbornly continuing with their plans, much like many beachgoers, college students on spring break, and a few dangerously misguided churches. The article is filled with tons of data and statistics and sources for all that information, laid out with a cogent argument for every objection or how someone will take every precaution with the exception of the most important one. Even so, the f-bomb found its way here too, like a raucous, barking sheepdog: “I will figure out a way to prevent spreading the virus when I go into town.” “No. No, you will not figure out a way to prevent spreading the virus. Do you know why? Because we already know how to prevent spreading the virus and it’s called ‘staying the f**k home’.” (Bold print is from the source.)
A friend told story of an older gentleman sitting outside the window of the healthcare facility on lockdown where his wife lives. For the last four years since his wife’s stroke, this gentle being has visited his wife faithfully, keeping to the covenant of ‘in sickness and in health’. Their daughter suggested an online visit but instead they took a page from the Italians singing to one another from their balconies and this 86 year old man drew a chair beside her closed window and visited with her as much in person as he was safely allowed to. How is it that love endures more than it ever thought it could?
And because it never disappoints, I asked friends on Facebook what is helping them the most; how are they shepherding themselves and others through this time.
You’re enjoying chocolate and coffee and family, pets and children and friends, long-distance connections, people who haven’t heard from you in a while. Nothing like heartbeats other than our own. Some of you have got financial and job privilege, you’re leaning on your faith in God, a partner who loves you, whom you love. Some of you are praying and taking naps throughout the day as needed, working on home projects, the honey-do list, and artwork.
Vodka. Bourbon. Wine. Virtual cocktail parties.
You’re reading books on audio and turning pages. You’re indulging in living room spa time. You’re crying.
Those who are shut in are still able to see friends, one or two at a time.
You’re providing music for others to enjoy and worship with.
You’re maintaining as much normalcy as possible, keeping a spiritual direction appointment but on Skype.
Shutting off screens for a while. Choosing the news you read.
A college friend who is housebound and in bed most of the time now gives thanks for her mindset; she’s used to a lifestyle most of us are now having to adjust to.
It helps to know we’re all in this together.
Online TV and movies and concerts. Music. Lots and lots of music. Classic rock and roll. Mantras and chanting. Watching the Met Opera online.
T’ai Chi and whatever else helps us to de-stress.
You’re enjoying the beautiful weather and walks on nature trails.
Some of you are working.
Exercising. Putting together a puzzle.
Playing board games and online games with friends.
Balancing ‘needing to know’ with ‘needing to breathe’.
Helping others. Helping families with groceries and delivering meals to seniors.
Watching spring unfold. Yard work. Fresh air. Tending to plants.
Paying attention to the birds and how they just go about their business.
Meditating. Practicing acceptance.
Having a routine.
Resting in the knowledge that right now in this moment we’re ok, our babies are ok, and our families are ok.
Telehealth laws. Access to medication.
Voices of loved ones over the phone.
Cough medicine with codeine and a sense of humor.
Medical marijuana.
Sleep.
I shall not hoard
Love makes me self-isolate
Love leads me to wash my hands
Love restores my soul
Love for myself and my neighbor directs me to the CDC
Even though I live in the shadow of a pandemic
I fear no evil
For I am not alone
Restrictions and dedicated hospital staff
They comfort me
Love sets a table for me with those who engage in magical thinking
Love reminds I have more than I need
I give from my abundance
May goodness and mercy follow
All that I do
And may we have the grace
To live through this
Amen.
Benediction – enfleshed.com
Goodness and mercy go with us from here.
Relentlessly, they pursue us.
Even in the midst of valleys that make us tremble,
even when evil draws near,
still the gifts of God will not yield.
Sacred provisions surround us.
Let us go in the confidence of God’s care for us
as we follow Jesus wherever Love leads.
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