We should Begin Spending More of Our Time Rescuing People

My family has had too much “togetherness.” 

Our eldest child is 15; his younger brother just turned 14 this week; their younger sister is going to be 11 in a few months.  Our home was far more livable for all of us when one of us went to work, three of us went to school, and the other of us could work from home and manage the extracurriculars.  There’s been no school for months; kids are always present; there are few opportunities for having “one’s own space.”  And while it seems reasonable that of the roughly 10 inside spaces and only 5 of us that we could each carve out a niche …um, not so well. 

We were all used to more time, more space, and different activities.  And we’re on each other’s every last nerve.  I could be like this BC (before COVID-19); but now, it’s 24-7.  And while most everyone else around the country has “worked from home,” I’ve had to get away from home in order to work effectively—which has added a whole different kind of stress.  Still, we’re surviving.  But not everyone is. 

If my household is any indication, the rocky summer we are already expecting is probably going to be a lot rockier because of things we’re not talking about as much.  Behind our “shelter in place” facades are real dangers of stress, domestic violence, domestic abuse, depression, anxiety, all mixed up in a cocktail with fear. 

Surely, we know the effects of “shelter in place”—while intended to keep us safe from the virus—have unintended deadly consequences.  We can’t just keep sheltering in place and be unscathed!  And I’m defeated, being told over and over and over that I can’t DO the things I want to.  But it’s not what you think. 

I believe the Church needs to stop saying, “No,” and must begin the harder work of rescuing people. 

I’ve been trying to find a way to say this, but then, as usual, someone else I know says it much better.  Invitingly even.  Here’s what my friend Andrew, who lives and serves a church in Boise, Idaho, shared this week: 

Hey FPC'ers: if you missed it, last night the Session voted to keep the building closed through June (and maybe beyond).

Meanwhile, only the building is closed.

We will begin working on more small group outdoor gatherings. We will work on this for a "mobile worship" experience as well, getting people who are craving in-person gathering together to experiencing worship in small groups with safe distancing and outdoors. 

The Session understands that for some of us quarantine is having a growing detrimental impact socially, emotionally, and physically. There is growing evidence of the consequences of what we are doing to "stay safe".  We are balancing that with what is safe and healthy to do in light of the still progressing pandemic of COVID-19.  We will call on all our imagination—and your imagination—to walk this balancing act together.  There are safer and healthier ways to gather than indoors, stationary, as a large group.  Let's find those ways and use them—we can be safe, and connected—we can see to our emotional and mental health and prevent undue exposure to coronavirus, and this will allow that we stay the course in recognizing that large-scale corporate worship is not safe at this time. 

I live in a different part of the country where we’ve never had a “shelter-in-place” order.  I believe my scientist friends.  But if they’re right, we’re going to reap the whirlwind.  There’s no join in their being right about the virus’ potential devastation.  Though I not-so-secretly want them to be right—but without the consequences.  But while they would have me lie comfortable on my couch for the rest of the year and part of the next, order my groceries in, and spend less money on gasoline than fish food in that time—that just ain’t gonna work.  At all.  Too many people will still die, just not as many from the virus. 

No.  Now is the time to seize opportunities.  Stop telling me what I can't do, and help me to do what we can to rescue people!  We have to find ways to rescue one another, to say “yes” to something, to “be the Church for real,” not just be “ideal.” 

The congregation I serve hasn’t been “closed” either.  But it’s like we’ve gone away on vacation.  Or worse, I fear we’re seen as “hiding in fear” like Jesus’ disciples after the crucifixion.  In fact, because we’re people of privilege, many of could really spend months at home without a paycheck and not really suffer.  Well, except we suffer from all the things money can’t buy (depression, anxiety, diseases, stress). 

But it’s festering.  Death because of COVID-19.  Only, it’s not always the virus.  And the symptoms aren’t just the shortness of breath, fever, feeling bad, not tasting, and the rest of the CDC hit list. 

I need to be reminded, “we can’t do this forever.”  Lets talk about what real, doable, healthy options look like. 

I need to be rescued (mostly from my defeatist thinking).  A bunch of other folks do, too. 

We need to change the conversation.  Seriously.  Before it’s too late. 

We need to begin to spend more time in rescue operations.  Being the church, together again—even if “together” is a moving target. 

...and then there comes Resurrection

Life is not O.K. right now; it’s just not.  All of us are frayed.  All of us are affected by the response to COVID-19 in different ways.  All of us are trying to manage everything that’s normally “not managed perfectly,” and now we’re doing it when we’re not normal and even little things can’t be managed.  

Outside our bedroom we’ve had this distraction.  Some weeks ago, before Easter, we noticed some cardinals had taken up residence right under the window.  Clearly a pair, the momma held down the nest, that this year, was higher in the branches than last year’s nest that had been more accessible from the ground.  And you have to know that last year, the babies occupied the nest, never got flight feathers, and just disappeared one day.   

So on Easter, our part of the world experienced some horrible spring storms, and sometime between Easter and last Sunday we noticed that the nest had become unoccupied.  In particular we noticed the large volume of rain that had overwhelmed our gutters maybe overwhelmed the nest and because we went directly from little babies in the nest to nothing in the nest, and the nest appearing washed out (we noticed because the level of poop in the nest got “flushed” which it normally doesn’t--and NOT washing your hands isn’t the only gross thing we’ve learned about in our house during COVID-19) that, well, you know, nature.  Nature can be less than gracious and generous.  

I took this picture this morning, but it’s what we’ve been staring at for days--the “clean” but empty nest!.  And all the while we had been hoping aginst hope that the little baby birds didn’t die some horrible death.  But it’s hard to hope when you know in the back of your mind what’s happened.  And on top of all this COVID-19 it’was a real kick in the gut.  

I mean, it’s bad enough having to deal daily with the COVID-count of cases and deaths and the lack of ventilators; that we all lost Easter at church, that spring is slipping away, that summer vacation’s in peril!  What’s up with God taking away our little distraction--sort of like the plant in the Jonah story that shades one day, but is withered the next!  Come on, Creator!  

I’m familiar with the idea that “in order for there to be a resurrection there has to be a death.”  This little theological gem has been feeding me for years.  But perhaps, not well enough, a follow-up question by Sarah Howell-Miller that asks, “What needs to die in order for love to rise?  Yes, “death” is necessary for “resurrection” to work; and “resurrection” is not “resuscitation”--so that “resurrection” doesn’t mean starting over at the point “resuscitation” became necessary.  Rather, resurrection requires living newly.   

This morning my wife, who’s been grieving the loss of the baby birds, discovered that what the bird-book describes is true, afterall--that cardinals fledge in 7-10 days.  So you go quickly from big mouths and no bodies in the nest to fly-able chicks.  

So here’s the most photogenic of the chicks, watching us warily through the window whilst awaiting momma and poppa taking turns bringing breakfast at a constant and frantic pace.   (Note to self: apparently, teenagers need to eat a lot.  Maybe that’s why kid #2 keeps saying, “I’m hungry,” after every meal.)   We saw at least two of the chicks with newly minted feathers, both serviceable for flying and looking like you’d expect a cardinal to look.  And, though THEIRS was no resurrection (I can’t speak to the need for “resuscitation” after the many rounds of storms they’ve had to endure), it was for us!  We who had believed them to be dead; were elated to find they are NOT!  And ...we suspect, now, the same thing happening last year!      

We wasted (err, expended) one of today’s hours watching; trying to vouch for the third chick, and collecting evidence of their daily lives post-nest--and they’re a lot harder to keep up with!  But this distraction--for today--means everything!  

I’m pretty sure cardinals don’t follow the weather on the internet; they don’t know 3 or 4 days in advance that bad storms are coming--they’ve simply been dealing with spring storms since--well, the beginning.   You build a nest.  You do your best to keep safe and keep others safe.  And sometimes, what happens, just happens.  

Resurrection is not resuscitation--we’re not going back to what was before COVID-19 when all this is over, to restart our lives.  We’re going to live in new ways because COVID-19 happened to us, like a storm flooding out a bird nest.  And sure, we need COVID-19 to die and all that; but there are still other things about us, in us, that need to die so that love can rise.   And in the midst of this storm around us--that’s a gift.  

Can we live through this?  How long will it last?  When will it be over?  How will we know?  

My grandfather always said, “life isn’t fair.”  If you’re looking for it to be, it isn’t ever going to be.  We’re not O.K.  We all need hugs and some empathy.  We all need LOVE to rise.  Somewhere in how we’re created, in our relationship with the triune God, we already know how to do that--I think.  If not, Jesus implores us to fiind that part of us and use it.  Find what needs to die, let love rise, share some kindness, watch out for stormy weather, don’t give up.  It’s not about doing it again and again and again (resuscitation).  It’s about fighting, scratching, clawing life out of the dust of the earth until it’s not the same (resurrection).  

Jesus never said life was easy.  He did say over and over he’d be with us, even if it wasn’t (easy or fair).  Oh, and for us not to be afraid.  Especially in storms.  

And for today--that’s everything!