In the Summer of 2020

Turning Under (the Summer of 2020)

On the near edge of summer

things are dying.

The plague has been like a

great harvester

mowing and sifting humanity’s

stalks and branches

leaving sorrow, memory, and

accommodation

strewn about

for the combine to gather

as dry statistics.

Some deaths come

When people can’t breathe.

There comes a time of burning

to level those suffocating structures.

Things die in summer,

even when death goes unnoticed

amid the flourishing of green.

An age-old song

rises from the rubble

when there is hope for the lowly

to be lifted up

as the mighty are brought down.

A song sung by the women who

witness the end

and see the beginning.

A song of Hannah,

a song of Mary,

and a song

of Billie Holiday

because all celebration

is born of sorrow.

With promise laid waste

and cities in disarray

we quietly paint the streets

with words of hope.

                      ~ Charles Kinnaird

New York City chose a stretch of Fifth Avenue in front of Trump Tower as the location for a Black Lives Matter mural.
 (Mark Lennihan/AP Photo)

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This Time of Sheltering

J. BLUE/GETTY IMAGES

                         “Life is a luminous pause between two great mysteries”

                                                                                        ~ Carl Gustav Jung

During this time of sheltering in place, wearing masks, and keeping a “social distance,” we are ever more mindful that there is a virulent strain of virus among us. We were told we had to “flatten the curve” by limiting social contact and thus reduce the spread of the contagion. Our goal was to control the outbreak in order to keep from overwhelming the healthcare system. It has been an attempt to save lives.

After some weeks of social distancing, many of us are becoming fidgety, anxious, and perhaps a bit edgy. We fear the loss of income and the loss of social support. Since businesses, restaurants, theaters, stores, and even medical clinics, cannot do business as usual, unemployment is the highest since the Great Depression. People across the country are feeling the crunch as they line up in their cars for food from community pantries to feed their families.

Michigan rally protesting COVID
 lockdown (NBC News photo)

People are getting restless. Some are questioning the wisdom of our imposed isolation. They want to get back to work, open up the schools, take in a ball game, do some shopping. In Michigan, armed protesters showed up at the state capital demanding an end to the coronavirus lockdown. 

There are many questions about this “new normal” We are facing. How will it play out? How long will this last? Is this any way to live? I think many of us assumed that we could lay low for a month or two, let this disease pass on through, and then go about our lives as usual. Now we are beginning to see that this new threat is settling in among us.

Our Wilderness Period?

Maybe this is what Moses faced when, after liberating the enslaved Hebrews, they began to chafe at their circumstances. After breaking the bonds of their captivity, they got worried and fearful asking him, “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die here in the wilderness?” Perhaps our wanting to go back to the old normal is like the Children of Israel wanting to go back to Egypt.

It may be a new disease, a novel virus, and an alarming pandemic, but humanity has been down this path before. In the 14th century, the Bubonic plague killed 60% of the European population. In the 15th century, European diseases wiped out 90% of the Native American population. Humanity has faced deadly diseases before.

Last week I found myself wishing that I could email my Nineteenth Century ancestors and ask them how they managed to live in such proximity to death. Without antibiotics or modern conveniences, they faced death at many turns. There was tetanus, typhoid, flu, pneumonia, diphtheria, and a host of other ailments that could take you down. I wondered how they endured days of toil, hardship, and danger yet managed to find time to sing and dance. But then I decided that we are human just like they were. We will figure it out as they did.

A Time of Awakening? 

The advantage of being confronted with the possibility of death is that we can awaken to the wonders of life, however brief that life may be. ­As our scientists work to find a way to bring this pandemic under control, and as our nurses and doctors battle the frontlines of infection, perhaps we can find some bit of time to treasure the life that we have.

We have never had any guarantees as to the time we are allotted on this earth, but we do have the opportunity to take in this life we have been given. We can savor this “luminous pause between two great mysteries.” 

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Lessons Learned from an Epidemic

The coronavirus outbreak in China has brought a heightened awareness of the need to protect ourselves from contagious disease in this day of increased travel when we are more connected globally than ever before. The CDC has issued guidelines to help the public to prevent the spread of the respiratory illness for which there is no vaccine.

I am reminded of the scare of the SARS epidemic of 2003. SARS was frightening because it was swift, deadly, highly contagious, and there was no vaccine available.  

My late friend, Jerry Moye, lived in Hong Kong at the time, teaching at the Hong Kong Baptist Theological Seminary.  During that SARS outbreak, Jerry described to me the safety measures that were being taken. Schools were closed, public outings were limited. Everyone tried to protect themselves from contamination. Jerry told me that the Chinese church that he attended decided to continue with limited Sunday worship, with no children’s programs, and opening the church only for those adults who were well and wanted to come. Jerry made the comment about what a sight it was to see the choir members singing while wearing surgical masks. 

That comment about church and surgical masks provided me with some insight about how we relate to one another which I elaborated upon in my poem, Unmasking the Mask.

Unmasking the Mask

  

In spite of the epidemic

The people gather on Sunday morning.

Singing hymns and greeting one another

Through surgical masks,

They are determined to carry on.

The sight of all those masks in church

Seems odd at first,

But we always wore the mask.

Sometimes an outsider,

Or a prophet,

Would challenge us

Using words like,

"Hypocrite,"

"Socialite,"

"Plastic saint."

Most of us

Allowed each other

The saving of face

By ignoring the mask.

Now, every mask is out in the open

Like flags of solidarity.

In the clear light of the epidemic

We see that sometimes a mask is needed

For protection.

There is always a risk,

Epidemic or not,

When we draw close to one another.

When we know it is safe,

We will remove the mask.

Until then

We will grant each other the right

To speak through the mask.

We all know

That touching and knowing

Are better than proximity,

That proximity

Is better than isolation.

We will venture as close as we can

And grant each other a safe place.

Mask or no mask.

                                     ~ Charles Kinnaird

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