Good Lord, You've Delivered Us!

I will give thanks to you, for you answered me; you have become my salvation. Psalm 118

When asked what I was giving up for Lent, I would often joke I’d thought about giving up church for Lent. And then this year happened, and a nasty bit of nature made us give up everything, including church, not just for Lent, but perhaps for life. Oi vei!

We are often told we don’t appreciate what we have until we don’t have it anymore. My father-in-law, who served in the Army Air Corps during World War Two told of sharing coffee with some of the locals in Sicily when the island had been liberated, and the locals just wept. They had been without such a simple pleasure for so long – between the Liberation and the Coffee, they felt salvation had come to them at long last.

I am not a patient person, by and large. I would like to think I am, of course, but I am not. I want things done and I want them done quickly. As I write this, I have been home-bound for the most part for over a month, and it appears that may continue into the foreseeable future. It may seem a long time, and in some ways it is. But the Second World War lasted about six years and resulted in millions of deaths. This isn’t a contest, but we should realize that even a year of inconvenience pales in comparison to years of war-time deprivations and depredations.

The fact is that cures and vaccines may well take months, if not years, to develop and improve. One cannot speed up science, even in times of crisis. Many of us will recover through the miracle of our infection-fighting immune systems. Many of us might even avoid illness by taking social distancing seriously. The time will come when we will be able to avoid this particular illness entirely the way we avoid mumps, rubella,  or the measles via inoculations developed by scientists working away feverishly in labs.

I know that the next few Sundays will come and go and that for most of us, it will take place away from our congregations – for health and safety. Our love for God and neighbor forbids us from blindly ignoring common sense, and while worshiping together is our heart’s desire, Easter will just have to wait until next year – a sports metaphor we can employ for the time being.

I say that because I know this storm, like all storms, will pass. Some pass quickly, while some pass slowly, but if we wait patiently, all storms eventually run out of rain.

In the meantime, what can we do?

Well, Easter represents new life. On Good Friday, Jesus “breathed his last.” On Easter Sunday his breath was restored by God, and on that evening we’re told that Jesus breathed on his disciples, telling them to receive new life themselves, and share it in a spirit of love and forgiveness.

I suppose we could all sit around waiting for this virus to pass. We could put this time to work doing projects around the house we hadn’t gotten to over the past few decades (for I am a procrastinator par excellence). We can binge watch our favorite shows and dry up like old bananas left out on the counter one day too long. Or …

… we can call friends and family to see how they’re doing. We may not be able to visit them in person, but we can let them know they’re actually in our thoughts and prayers (which is a step beyond just mouthing those words as some tend to do).

We can touch base with those who may not be able to get out as readily and easily as us, and deliver needed supplies to them. We can keep proper spacing in the stores, and do so with smiles and other courtesies. We can endeavor to share good and joyful tidings on social media and spend less energy stirring up hornets’ nests.

Most of all, we can strive to find Christ in the lives of those around us, and strive to hear what God has to say to us through the saints we are sure to meet along the way. I think that’s how God delivers many of us here in this, our valley.