The growing uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic has left many feeling frustrated, losing hope and faith in God, life, family, love, finances, or something else. Even some of the most ardent believers in Christ will have moments when faith falters, when you’re lonely and exhausted, where grief grabs ahold of you, when all that you’ve believed feels empty, and when you can’t see beyond the pain to grasp hope. How do we keep moving forward when the resources on which we depended vanish? This Good Friday and Easter will be like no other. And even though the coronavirus has made planning our lives and Holy Week a bit more challenging, we must not lose sight that the Easter season is truly about hope.
Easter was never meant to go back to normal; but was, and still is, intended to make all things new.
For Christians, it means the proclamation of release over suffering, hope over despair, and life over death. Still, there is no special immunity from COVID-19 granted by physically gathering to worship God.
Staying home for Easter, a cathedral converted to a hospital, defying despair, and more.
I have thinking a lot about the after lately. What happens when this is all over? Will we be changed? Will we heed the lessons of a global pandemic, realize we are all connected to each other, fight for systems that keep our own selves safe by protecting the most vulnerable among us? Will we fight for a world where we could actually touch the miracle of a savior who died for the world and then rose again? Or will we only ever be able to glimpse it, but not hold on?
We need to walk together, day by day, through the days of this holy weekend — in the midst of this modern plague. Here I offer my map for that journey.
Herbert is an award-winning professor, physician, and editor who serves as the attending physician and professor of emergency medicine at the UCLA School of Medicine.
How strange that to love our neighbor we must abstain from interacting with them in the flesh. Maintain social distance, and for the love of God, don’t go to Grandma’s house. These are all wise admonitions, but is that it? Is that the extent of what it means to love our neighbors in the age of COVID-19? Might the call to a Maundy Thursday depth of love ask a bit more of us?
Our bodies, entombed and separated from each other by our social distancing efforts, will be stuck in Saturday.