Standoffish Distancing

I believe that social distancing is helping to flatten the curve. I try to keep my distance from folks, whenever I have to be in a store.

This week, at the suggestion of the White House, more people are wearing masks. With the masks and the 6-foot rule, we are distancing in more ways than we bargained for.

I have noted that as people keep their distance, they also avoid eye contact. In the South, folks are friendly and speak to people they don't know. I'm seeing less and less of that. We can't see each other's faces, except for their eyes. We are suspicious of everyone, because they may be infected.

Yesterday at Harris Teeter, a woman offered apologies as she asked me to reach a cereal box on the top shelf. When I agreed to help her, she offered me a sanitary wipe--I guess because, you know, coronavirus. I declined the wipe and fetched her cereal. She was very grateful and told me how her son (?) was a doctor in NYC. Wow.

So, maybe we just need to be ready to help, and love each other, from 6 feet and with masks. Maybe personal contact will seem more significant when the air is cleared.

In the meantime, I don't want to be standoffish.

Feel the Tension

These are strange days. Everything is cancelled. 

We have more time with our families. We have more time in our yards. People are thinking more locally. Seed companies report record sales as folks plan to grow their own food. 

Live is slower. Neighbors are meeting. 

At the same time, tech is coming front and center. Could tech actually make our lives simpler? Maybe.

I have to confess that the technology learning curve has been a challenge for me. I had never heard of Zoom three weeks ago. Now I have multiple Zooms every week. 

So these are strange days. Back to simplicity with the help of technology.

We are learning to be still and learning technology. Meeting our neighbors, and having meetings on computers. 

Feel the tension. Grow in it.

How Priorities Change

One month ago politics stood front-and-center in the news cycle. After all, it is an election year. But now America is dealing with an actual crisis. This is not some argument about the size of government or foreign interference in American politics.

No, this is a real issue. A life-and-death issue. People are dying, and healthcare workers are meeting the challenge head-on, at great personal risk. Businesses are dying, while many proprietors are working to make payroll for employees who must stay home. State and local governments are suffering because tax revenues are way down.

This is a real issue, and it has brought America to its knees. We are praying like never before. This crazy situation brings out our creativity and our humility.

It turns out that we don't have all the answers. We have not completely tamed nature. There are limits to human strength. There's no app or pill or legislation that can fix this situation. At least not yet.

So our priorities are changing. As they change, let's remember what really matters. What's that, you ask?

We need to be asking God what really matters.

A Falling House of Cards?

So much depends on everything else. Consider the surprises of the COVID crisis:

Newspapers have little ad revenue, because no one has anything to advertise. Shops are closed and events are cancelled. At the same time, people want the news more than ever.

State governments have little money to spend because sales tax revenue has tanked. No one can make purchases on which to pay taxes.

Hospitals are stretched to the limit, but their revenue is down. Elective surgeries have been cancelled for weeks, and payments for those surgeries bring in millions in revenue.

Police forces get sick, navy ships become infected, soldiers need face masks to protect them from germs.

Parks and playgrounds are closed.

Then there is the falling stock market, the $2 trillion stimulus paid for entirely by government borrowing, sports leagues on hold, festivals and concerts cancelled, small businesses struggling, schools closed, graduations postponed.

Everything depends on everything. The economy is a complex ecosystem, all intertwined. Let's hope it is an ecosystem, not a house of cards. Something invisible has invaded and threatened the whole thing.

And we are learning to depend on people again. If the whole house of cards falls, we will really need each other.

The COVID Generation

I have known a lot of people who grew up during the Great Depression and World War II. These events shaped folks for the rest of their lives.

Both the Depression and the War created scarcity. And this scarcity changed the way a whole generation operated in this world.

I wonder if the youth of today will be shaped similarly by this pandemic. They may always avoid large crowds, and carefully wash their hands. They may remember wistfully the days before the virus when people would hug and shake hands without a second thought.

If the social distancing lasts for months and months, we may see a lasting imprint on culture and habits. We are witnessing history. We just don't know yet what that history will be.

Materialism and Worship

Nothing strikes at the heart of the American soul like a challenge to consumerism. Every politician says that he or she will grow the economy. It's not enough to sustain our level of production and consumption. We must grow. There's no such thing as "big enough" when it comes to our economy. There are no limits. The faster our economy grows, the better. Our civic duty, then, is to keep the economy growing, to consume, to spend, to purchase.

Suddenly the ability to produce and consume has been virtually cut off.

We Americans are raised to be consumers. Even before our children can walk or talk, we tell them about Santa Claus, the one who can give them whatever they ask for.

Ours is a consumer culture. Everything is related to consumption. Consumerism shapes our worship. Shopping is a sacrament.

But now suddenly we can't consume. No one ever thought this could happen. But here we are. No longer can we serve materialism. The god-of-the-growing-economy has be knocked off the throne.

We have no choice but to stay home. Even if we want to flout the rules, the stores are mostly closed. We have space to think. What have we been worshipping? Consumerism? Materialism?

The treadmill of economic growth has stopped. We've been forced to get off. Now we can step back and have a look at it.

Some can't wait for it to crank back up, so they can climb aboard and resume the race. But some of now see that treadmill for what it is: a tiring, relentless, unwinnable race to nowhere. Even the winners don't win. Maybe now we can see it for what it is.

Priorities are changing. Let's rethink this.

Longing to Return

Some of us never knew how much we liked gathering with friends for worship. Or gathering with friends for anything, really. I believe there can be supernatural power when God's people come together to worship and honor him. Somehow God speaks to me profoundly when I am in his presence with others.

Sometimes I experience God's presence when I'm alone, and sometimes when I'm with my family. Now those are about the only times I have. Those moments of clarity before the Lord take me deeper in my love for him.

But I still miss gathering with friends as we turn our hearts together toward Jesus.

In the Old Testament, we learn about the Jewish people who were removed from their homeland and relocated to Babylon. While in exile, the people longed to return home. They ached, even while they knew they must make the best of their situation. God instructed them to settle in, while in the foreign land. They pined for what they had lost. They knew more than ever how great home was.

And so we today, Christians confined to home, long to be together to worship. We don't know how long it will be. We don't know how bad it will be. The germ storm is creeping into our hometowns. And we pray, and wait, and watch.

Maybe now we can realize how deeply we need each other, how deeply we need to raise our voices together in praise to God, how profoundly God speaks to us in worship.

Our longing is really for him. May we seek him, right where we are. He's ready to meet us.