Gently into that Good Night

Well, here we are, twenty-months into the incessant conversation starter, filler and finisher, that is COVID-19. Interspersed with climate change, race relations and a filled quota of natural disasters, the news certainly is not a place one wants to dwell too long.

As I watch, or listen to the media reports, I have noticed something about myself and my fellow humanity that surround me: 

We are really selfish.

Generally, I don't mind watching the news as long as it doesn't really apply to me. I hear phrases from others like, 'Thank goodness we don't live in (fill in the blank). There are so many selfish people there. You know, the ones that load into their cars and just drive everywhere. Automobile superspreaders! How dare they invade us here in (fill in the blank)!' Or, one of my favorites: 'There are some good things about the global pandemic - at least air traffic has dried up somewhat. So much better for our environment.' When questioned about how others felt who had family in some other far place, they sheepishly responded, 'Jeez, don't get offended. I'm like, just sayin..."

Surely, I am one of the offenders in my own private thoughts, as I want to rip off the mask; I want to hug my neighbor; I want to travel anywhere. Because the virus/climate/race/natural disaster hasn't affected me imminently, my selfish tendency is to tell everyone to put on their big person pants and move on. 

I am selfish, and yet that is not unprecedented. Not for me. Not for anyone. Not just because of the highly politicized and unproductive talks about COVID and its vaccines, masks and whatever.

Here is an example:

During World War II, German submarines patrolled the eastern seaboard of the United States in hopes to sink or destroy American warships. Unfortunately, as the warships steamed north and south along the coast, the background lights of the American cities illuminated the ships making them easy targets for the submarines. Thus, it should have been an easy choice for the American coastal dwellers to acquiesce to the ordered blackouts which would save the lives of the sailors.

Instead, there was an outcry from Atlantic City to Miami Beach, "If you turn off the lights, you'll ruin the tourist season!"

Does that sound familiar?

If you make me wear a mask, if you keep me at home, if you put restrictions on me, you'll ruin my tourist life! You'll ruin my entertainment! You'll drive me crazy by staying at home! You'll take away my freedom!

Do I like to wear a mask? No, not at all. Do I like that people aren't allowed to embrace each other, or are limited at funerals and weddings? No, not at all. Do I like that some members of my family have been suffering from endless lockdowns, ridiculously inconsistent restrictions, and baseless fearmongering from the media? No, not at all. But for the greater good, I will acquiesce during this time to keep people a little bit safer (except from the baseless media fearmongering. I will keep speaking out about that). 

Why will I do this? Because I think we've been called by God to 'rejoice in the Lord always,' (Philippians 4:4a) even in the midst of endless reports of tragedy. This does not mean to celebrate tragedy, but to walk with people in the midst of it to remind them that 'The Lord is near.' (Philippians 4:4c)

And what does this gentleness accomplish? It shows the world that faithful people everywhere, no matter denomination or view on vaccination, can express compassion to everyone (Philippians 4:5). This gentleness might be the only vaccination against the dread that is spreading so quickly, far more rapidly than the virus. This gentleness and selflessness might be the only thing that helps us to persevere through an unseen and difficult future, an endless night of questioning fear.

I encourage you who are reading this: Be gentle. Be patient. Be kind. 

God is near.