If you're like me, you've been reading posts about the apparent healing taking place in our ecosystems since the pandemic, or some would say because of it. Pictures in Venice of clear water, with fish swimming and swans returning. People are saying we have discovered the ecological problem, that humanity is the virus.
I'm not saying that humanity hasn't been abusive in the ways we have treated nature. I'm sure there is some truth to what is being said. But I think like everything else, it lands somewhere in there a middle?
If I recall, bats from a market in Wuhan, China are given credit for this most recent virus. Who eats bats, anyway? And you can't ignore the inherent violence in nature, either. The news may be lost to the pandemic, but there was a devastating tornado that ripped through Jonesboro, Arkansas just last week. Nature can dole out it's own wrath from time to time, reminding us of the ways nature, our ecosystem, and all of creation groans for the day when all things will be made new. We are included in that groaning.
I don't want to get lost in the weeds arguing whether ecosystems healing themselves, and the hows and whys. I'll leave that up to the scientists. This all does have me thinking about a question that is connected to the article I posted yesterday; is what we are facing wrath or healing? Is it punishment or a blessing?
I've watched faith healers coming "against" COVID-19 like it's the devil incarnate. I've heard people, the same ones who made claims about 9-11, saying this is God's wrath connected to everything from abortion to gay marriage. Interesting no one says God's wrath is a result of capital punishment or treatment of immigrants and refugees, but I digress. Trust me, God didn't have to create a pandemic to get our attention. I don't believe that is consistent with who God is, anyway. I don't believe this is wrath we can lay at God's feet; I believe it is life. With that being said, for those of us living in the way of Jesus, it provides us with an opportunity.
I read another tweet last week that was more hopeful from Jamie Tworkowski: It said in the midst of this pandemic:
Conversations will not be cancelled.
Relationships will not be cancelled.
Love will not be cancelled.
Songs will not be cancelled.
Reading will not be cancelled.
Self-care will not be cancelled.
Hope will not be cancelled.
May we lean into the good stuff that remains.
I know this is an incredibly difficult time for many. I'm not trying to downplay that at all. One of my friends just lost his father in New York to COVID-19. Health care workers are serving the public under "war-like" conditions, and grocery store employees show up every day, with great risk, so I can get milk and bread. Many walk around in fear wishing they could be like the bubble boy from Seinfeld. But I think there is another way to approach this cultural moment. I'm wondering if it might be better to look for what we're being given instead of what has been taken away.
Rest. A slower pace to life. No one is running from soccer to dance to baseball, through the McDonald's drive-thru, and on to the next thing. My calendar is empty. I have "tasks", but I don't have events. Our lives are usually one event after another, and they lives have slowed down, for some, shut down.
Family. I've connected with my family more in the last three weeks than maybe in the last three years because of Zoom, Marco Polo, and Facetime. I've also had another first, leading my wife, daughters, and their families in Sunday morning worship. We have even created a liturgy for us; singing a song together, reading a Bible story to the kids, and using the lectionary for the adults. We are connecting every day, because we can.
Time. Instead of wishing we had time to spend together, we have lots of time around each other. Terry and I are together all day, each day eating around our dining room table, twice, often three times. That hasn't happened in years, maybe ever. We have time to go for walks; to play cards; watch Netflix, The Curse of Oak Island, and Building Off the Grid. This has been good, a gift, one I'm not sure how we'll leave behind when we are on the other side of this.
Solitude. I know what you're thinking, Holcomb's an introvert, and we don't have kids at home. I get that, but for the record, introverts like people, need people. But this has given me the time to study, to read, to think, and to pray. To think about you, what you need, how I can pray for you. This hasn't made the TV more more desirable, but less. My screen time went up the first week, but has gone down the last two. I'm more engaged with the people and things around me. I could check out, but I've been reading like I have read since my Sabbatical last year.
People. I look people in the eyes. I talk with them. Many are afraid, and I don't want to give them reason to be more afraid, but want to be kind. To treat people like I would want to be treated. I've found myself wondering if someone from my family was dying, would I stay away, letting them die alone? What would you do? I value people, relationships, and human touch more than ever.
Today. I'm reminding myself to enjoy today. God has given me the gift of presence, in this moment, today. So, with God's help, I'll make the most of it.
There is far less running, and way more sitting. I walk to the mailbox and feel like I've escaped. I sit on my front stoop watching the birds in our feeder and the geese landing in our pond and feel renewed. It doesn't take much, does it? Today, I'm reminded to look for the blessing and the healing in the time that we have been given. I think this is more than just a blizzard, and hope it isn't an ice age. But whatever it is, and wherever we find ourselves, I'm looking for the signs of life today, hoping and praying the best for our tomorrows.
So simply put, I hope nature is healing, being renewed during this pandemic. But I hope and pray the same for us.
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