As difficult as it is to hold before our minds and hearts, here we are in the midst of a second Christmas in a time of pandemic. With the possible exception of the foolhardy, every person the world over has grown weary of the constant need to be cautious, careful, and attentive to the ways available to us to avoid infection, disease, and even death. Certainly the gift of vaccines, provided with record speed by our incredible scientific research and development community here in the US and elsewhere, the last year has brought some opportunity to take a collective breath and let go of the overwhelming fear and anxiety which shaped our lives for a seeming eternity in 2020.
And yet, with the death toll rapidly approaching a staggering one million lives lost here in the United States alone, and millions more across the globe, we dare not minimize or deny the frustratingly real danger present in the very air we breathe when in the company of others who may carry the virus unaware. Perhaps more so than any other virus we’ve encountered since the Black Plague, or at least the “Spanish” flu, the enemy we face in SARS Covid-19 is a wily adversary, able to mutate quickly and silently into forms we have yet to encounter.
What weighs most heavily on my heart, and perhaps yours as well, is the pervasive sense of loss stemming from this relentless foe. Whether we have witnessed the death of a family member or close friend or not, those whose lives have been upended by the death of someone near and dear are only an arm’s length away.
So I join with one of my clergy colleagues who wrote recently to her parish: “I want to name the very real grief that many of us are feeling in this moment. There is such sadness and loss in having to yet again change our plans and miss out on another year of traditions that are so precious to so many of us. Combined with the fear of what may lie ahead as we navigate this newest wave of a mutating virus, it can feel quite heavy and desolate. I encourage you to be gentle with yourselves and with others. As Mary Oliver says, ‘Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.’ Carve out some time and space for restoration, peace, and comfort. You are deserving of all those things.
“Emblazoned on my heart are the opening lines of John’s Gospel: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” The light may be small and dim, we may not be able to discern it or feel its heat, but we know that it’s here. Love and hope are shining within us, among us, and far beyond us. The light will not and CAN not be extinguished.”
I pray that you all may enjoy a safe, healthy, and joyous Christmastide in the Light of God’s Love and Care among trusted family members and good friends this year and always.