The Pandemic Twist
The Pandemic Twist
Galatians 5:22-26
So, how’s your global pandemic going? If you’re like me, there have been some surprisingly meaningful moments in the midst of the challenges. Monday was one of those days. Sarah was having her first day on her new job, taking the train out from the city very early. She was wearing two masks and sunglasses for goggles. As an early riser, I was texting with her as I turned on the t.v. and discovered that the city had been looted that night. The bridges were up. The entrances to the expressways were closed. The “El” wasn’t running. However, here was my daughter, riding the Metra on her big day: “Sarah…how’s the train ride going?”
Later that morning was my annual dermatology appointment—one of the good, adult things I’ve done for myself. Usually, this is when my doctor and I sing along with “Hootie and the Blowfish” tunes (his choice, not mine) as he burns things off of me and the room smells just a tad like frying bacon. This year was different. Covid precautions were in full force. Masks were everywhere. There was no singing. Still, it dawned on me that this appointment was a unique moment of physical connection in this pandemic world. It was weird to be touched by someone outside my bubble!
Later that afternoon, with a freshly burned spot on my face that it turns out a mask covers very well, I went for a nice peaceful walk. Then my phone rang. Tracy said she was sorry to bother me but there was a storm on the way and winds were predicted to be between 70 and 100 miles per hour. I zipped home. We put away as many things as we could. The pandemic twist this time was that I had to cancel the Trustees meeting. I had to cancel the meeting because I knew that our power would be going out as soon as the winds started blowing and I was the Zoom host for the meeting. If I didn’t have power, I wouldn’t have Wifi and the meeting couldn’t happen. Weird…
Eventually, after the storm narrowly missed us, we came up from the basement—Tracy, Emma, Sarah (stranded in Lake Bluff now) and me—to sit in the darkness because the power was out. Sarah was wearing her mask the whole time—the pandemic twist. As the sun set, Emma eventually wandered upstairs and returned with glow sticks for us all (glow sticks that she had bought for the dance at her school back on March 13th, the day that the pandemic shut things down). We sat and listened to music together and laughed our way through some great memories. Finally, we realized that the Perseid meteor shower was peaking that night, so we took our masks and our glow sticks out to the courtyard, laid down on our backs and stared at the sky.
For all the weirdness of the day, the ending was amazing. It was silly and fun and full of joy and wonder. (“Does that star seem like it is twinkling red to you?” “It does!”) There had been danger and anxiety and fear in the mix of the day. However, we all got through and probably got lucky, too. In the end, we had almost no answers to any big questions but we somehow were given this gift of time together and a very heartfelt connection. As I lay down on my bed in the darkness of the power outage (which wouldn’t end for another 14 hours!), although it was tempting to just stew about the food that I was going to have to throw away the next morning, I found myself overwhelmingly grateful for having made it though the day and for how the day turned out in the end. It was a gift.
No matter what else has been true during this time, I bet you have received some surprising gifts, too. Don’t get me wrong the fear and anxiety and frustration of this time is real for us all. The economic challenges can be overwhelming. The devastation for those who have the virus and for those who battle the virus on the frontlines is very real. However, while we miss the contact with the wide range of people we are used to seeing, haven’t you been struck by how important those close to you really are in your life. You knew that before but now you know this for sure, right? Haven’t there been moments that were completely unplanned that surprised you with joy? You had an unexpectedly good laugh or a surprisingly meaningful conversation or a memory arose out of nowhere that really captured your heart. Haven’t you noticed the bird or the sunset or sunrise or the smell of the approaching rain that you might have just overlooked before?
I first heard this suggested in an account I read that was written by someone who survived being shipwrecked. He was literally hanging on for dear life to some debris in the middle of the ocean. Yet, his most vivid memories were not of suffering but of the overwhelming beauty of the stars at night and the sunsets and sunrises. He talked about how intense everything was—not only the challenges but the beauty, too.
Since then, I’ve sat with a lot of people, sorting through the aftermath of some pretty terrible losses in their lives. Later on, they have thought back to those early days following a loss and have a similar sense. Although they were fighting to survive that grief, there was a profound sense of being awake and aware in a different way to all sorts of things. While others might have experienced great anger toward God in the face of such loss (which is part of what we feel at times), what was striking for a lot of these people was that God was more present in a comforting way than at any other time in their lives. There was a profound sense that all sorts of things—large and small—were gifts and that God was ultimately the source of those gifts. There was also an awareness that those gifts sometimes were the difference that helped them make it though a day. Looking back, a lot of those people would talk about how, while it was a relief that the pain had faded, they were sad that the profound sense of God’s presence had faded, too.
In a strange way, challenging times (which don’t just come in the form of global pandemics) wake us up and make us aware of our surroundings. In our most anxious moments, this can be the kind of hyper-vigilance that led us as children to jump out of our skins when our sibling jumped out from behind a closet door and yelled, “Boo!” When we are challenged but less hyper-vigilant, we can simply be led to notice things, to see the vividness of that bird’s feathers or the intensity of the sunset or the love in the eyes peering at us from over the top of the mask. There are gifts all around us, if only we have eyes that see and hearts that are open.
Of all the things that Jesus embodied, in the most elemental sense, what he showed us was how to go through the world with open eyes and an open heart. He was constantly noticing the people others would have overlooked. He was constantly pointing out this tree or that flower or that bird. He told stories that were intended to wake us from our lazy way of thinking that we already had things figured out. He keeps saying to us, in so many words, I know you think you’ve seen everything that there is to see but I want you to look again! In a challenging day, it is so tempting to give up, to check out, to declare, “I’m done here!” Jesus keeps urging us: “Stay with this. Keep searching. Stay awake and aware.”
That’s where we meet Paul today. Paul asks a great question: “What happens when we live in God’s way?” Paul says that God’s gifts appear in our lives like fruit in an orchard. How do you care for a fruit tree? You have to make sure it has water and proper nutrients. You have to prune it properly and make sure that predatory bugs and diseases don’t take over. You have to care for that tree. If you do, the most amazing thing happens—that tree bears fruit. There will be bugs and blight and storms that threaten branches, but if you keep caring and there will be more amazing fruit. And every time you taste that fruit the overwhelming experience is that this fruit is God’s gift.
So it is, Paul says, with the life of faith. When we live in God’s way things like getting our own way and being like everyone else are killed off for good. You can decide whether that’s a matter of pruning in our our lives or a matter of ridding ourselves of some blight. Paul literally says that such things are “crucified.” Instead, when we choose a life of faith, we commit ourselves to the life of the Spirit, not just as a nifty idea but as something that is lived in the details of our lives every day.
In another moment, Paul talks about doing everything we do to the glory of God. If you sweep, sweep to the glory of God. This doesn’t mean you talk about God while you are sweeping. It means that you care about what you are doing and do the best job you can because this is the task before you. You are willing to immerse yourself in what you are doing rather than hedging your bets, even if what you are doing seems inconsequential. You care. You are committed. You are immersed and involved. And when you discover this way of being where you are and being who you are and doing what you are doing, the fruits of the Spirit begin to blossom. You feel peace and serenity. You are focused. You realize that the people around you are fully human and fully worth loving. You discover that the world is holy and that God is present in all things, especially the simple things that make up our everyday lives.
Ultimately, the life of faith has very little to do whether whether today seems to be a “good” day or a “bad” day. As soon as we pull ourselves out of the day to pass that kind of judgment, we have stepped out of the life of faith. Instead, I think, our challenge is to accept today as an “is” and not an “ought.” This is what today is. Now, what does it mean to be led by the Spirit through this day?
Inevitably, this will involve staying connected to the people in that day, no matter what. How can I care for this person? How can I help them? What’s the loving thing to do?
In the same sense, this will involve identifying todays tasks and resisting the temptation to pass judgment on those tasks. Instead, we are challenged to do what needs to be done and to do those things in a caring way, even if the tasks feel mundane. This is today’s work. What would it mean to do this well?
Finally, I think that if we want to live the life of the Spirit, we have to be fully open to the surprises that arise in a day. If “I didn’t expect this…” becomes the grounds to check out on the day, then we will have removed ourselves from the gifts that come on the other side of being surprised. When our reaction is, “I didn’t sign up for this…” we may cut ourselves off from the chance to stand slack jawed on the other side of surprise and say, “This is amazing!”
We can be led by the Spirit through all of our days, even through this pandemic. Amazing things happen when we realize that sometimes the most challenging days are the ones in which God is most vividly present. That presence can transform us, from fear and anxiety to serenity and peace, from vilifying others to learning the power of compassion, from feeling so alone to feeling immersed in the presence of God.