Viral Lessons from Downton Abbey

What exactly is one to watch when the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament is cancelled and Major League Baseball never starts? That is the question which I, like millions of others, have asked these last many weeks of ‘physical distancing’, the prescription to defeat COVID-19.  My answer was to go in the entirely opposite direction from sports. I settled on several shows to fill the gaps in my late evenings, one of which was a well-known show set in the early 1900’s, Downton Abbey. This would be my antidote to my raging Badgers and Brewers fever.

In Season Two, the aristocratic owners and servants of Downton Abbey have more to worry about than whether the table is set correctly and tea is served at the proper time. Following World War I the household is beset by the onslaught of the Spanish Flu of 1918. It leads to misery and death, striking the wealthy and the poor alike.  They either didn’t know about or believe in ‘social distancing’ and the effects on the family and friends were devastating.

Watching it in 2020, the lessons from the Abbey jump off of the screen. We are going through the same devastation their world experienced. It affects the wealthy, the poor and everyone in between. People once secure in their station in life are now thrown into doubt and fear about survival, both economically and physically.

The television series moves on to new plot lines, but, just as in real life, the effects of the pandemic change the story for the rest of their lives. People’s lives are so intertwined that the death of one affects many.  Today, as we are trying to ‘move on’ with life in our nation and in the nations of the world,  it is tempting to ignore the lessons of history and to disregard science.

 I, for one, don’t want to spend the rest of 2020 watching Downton Abbey instead of the Brewers and Badgers. But it seems to me the lessons of 1918 are clear: we either respect and defeat the virus now by ‘taking our medicine’ or we ignore the past and watch the virus defeat us, changing the plot lines of our lives, again and forever.  Good thing I have a few more seasons to watch.

"Down Into The Darkness Of The Grave"

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.

So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind.

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned

With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Since Cain killed Abel humanity experiences death and its aftermath, sorrow; loneliness; regret. We know that death remains the last enemy of us all.  Still, there are times when we as a world count death.  We live in one of those times, when the death toll is reported daily. The numbers are hard to grasp.  I live in a county of about 100,000 souls. The current COVID-19 death toll has surpassed that number. Try to imagine an entire county’s population being placed in the grave within a month. Staggering.

On this Saturday we remember that God is no stranger to death. One of the Holy Trinity died. Jesus was one of the ‘loving hearts in the ground.’  More important is this: on this Saturday some 2000 years ago the molecules stirred and the resurrection body of Jesus was created anew.  May this Holy Saturday stir the faith of the hundreds of thousands grieving the deaths we count.  May they come to believe that the rock which covers the hard ground shall on the last day be moved; that the trumpet will sound;  and up from the grave shall rise victory over the last enemy.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.

I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

(Dirge Without Music, Edna St. Vincent Millay; Source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52773/dirge-without-music )

"Saturday Night's All Right"

The party they threw for him on that Saturday night was a way of saying ‘thank you’, perhaps. Or, ‘we love you, friend’.  Maybe some of each. Martha served. Lazarus, the one Jesus had raised from the dead, reclined, along with his best friend, Jesus. Jesus’ disciples were relaxing in the house. Little did they know.

Mary had been saving her expensive perfume for a special occasion.  Tonight seemed like the right night, this Saturday night before Jesus headed down for his last ride into Jerusalem. Of course, no one other than Jesus understood that it was his last road trip. Just how close the end, and the beginning, were. Maybe Mary had an intuition that when Jesus left on Sunday morning there would not be another Saturday night dinner, not on this earth anyway.

So she poured out a pint of pure nard on his bare feet and wiped away the liquid with her long, jet-black hair. The smell filled the small house. People’s heads turned toward the dining room, wondering what the fragrance filling the air could be.  When they saw Mary’s shiny hair and Jesus’ drying feet, and the bottle lying nearby they understood what had happened. It irked Judas Iscariot to no end. “What a waste! That perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor (minus my thief’s cut).”

Jesus was having none of that noise.  “Leave her alone.” What Mary did that Saturday night before Palm Sunday was pure worship of Jesus. She understood who this man was, that he was the Messiah.  And if all of the rumors of the plots to kill him were true, well, perhaps he would not return.  There was no point in saving for tomorrow the act of worship she could do tonight.

We all have a little bit of Judas in us, wanting to save the good stuff for ourselves. We all have a little bit of Mary in us, wanting to worship our Lord and Savior.  Imagine Jesus at the dinner table tonight. You and your family and friends gathered round, one last time before Jesus begins the long walk to the tomb.

What could you do tonight to show Jesus how much he means to you?

(based on John 12:2-8; cf. Matthew 26:6-13)

Why Would They Risk Their Lives For You?

Mount Sinai West nursing manager Kious Jordan Kelly died from COVID-19.  Why would Mr. Kelly, in his 40’s,  have put himself in a place where he would be exposed to a highly contagious, deadly virus? You might say, “Well, it was his job?” But, ask yourself, if your job required you to knowingly risk contracting a deadly disease for which there is no known cure, would you? Why didn’t Nurse Kelly just walk away and call in sick? Take vacation? Find a new job?

There is something special about the character of people called to serve on the frontline of our nation’s response to a pandemic.  A frontline healthcare worker has no time to do a calculation of whether a person who cannot breath deserves the help of a nurse or doctor.  They serve those who lie before them gasping for air knowing that droplets could enter their own bodies and put them at death’s door.

So, today I ask you to pray for those who are called to this this dangerous work with this excerpt from A Blessing for Healthcare Workers in a Time of Pandemic--Kate Williams, © GIA Publications:

“Blessed are the ones who cannot be isolated.

Blessed are the doctors, nurses, chaplains, hospital staff. Blessed are the hands that are raw from scrubbing and sanitizing, the palms that glisten with oil of healing. Blessed are the shoulders that carry the weight of life and death. Blessed are the feet that are aching from standing at bedside and running between rooms. Blessed are the hearts that are frightened and breaking. …

Blessed are those who look upon this sacred work as gift . Blessed are those who have had enough. Blessed are those who are overwhelmed. Blessed are those who lack the space to process all that lies ahead.

Blessed are the ones who are found weeping in secret corners of an emergency room so that we might see a strong face to greet our need. Blessed are those who weep openly with us, so that even our tears have companions.

Blessed are you, O God:…come quickly, abide unceasingly. Love us while we see the worst, give us the hope we need to see our way out.”

When Fear Leads to Doubt, Sing!

God didn’t cancel spring.  The sun remembers how to shine.  Social connecting is happening in new ways.  Branches and dirt hold the promise of buds. Observe the Sabbath with a walk, sing a song.

I Worried
by Mary Oliver

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

Responding to Fearful Threats

How should God’s people respond to the Covid-19 (coronavirus) pandemic?  How shall we react to the ‘national emergency’ the President, Governors and Mayors have declared to exist?

After Jesus died and was buried his friends believed their lives were in mortal danger. Surely, they thought, they would be next in line to die a horrible death. Guilt by association. What did they do? They huddled together in a room, ‘the doors locked for fear.’  What happened next changed the history of the world, of the universe.  Jesus, he whom they saw die, showed up in their midst. They thought they were seeing a ghost.  But then Jesus spoke words that ring down through history, “Peace be with you!” The disciples were frightened at first, but as Jesus continued to comfort them their fright turned to joy.  They still might be targets of the powers that killed Jesus, but now they had Jesus with them.

The presence of Jesus changes fear to joy, not because the threats we fear go away, but because we see that ‘this too shall pass.’  Importantly, Jesus says, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”  The role of God’s people, the work of the church, in the midst of a time of national emergency is to go into locked rooms and bring a word of peace. Sure, the threats of viruses are a real and present danger, but Jesus is with you and he isn’t leaving. ‘Peace be with you.’

A second obligation of God’s people in the midst of crisis is to honor the restrictions and guidelines the government decrees over our activities and lifestyles.  We are called to be faithful disciples first and good citizens second. Keep that order, but to the extent possible, do both.

Is it a necessary thing to close school and church activities? Opinions differ. But, a national emergency is declared. So, good citizens do what we are advised: wash our hands and practice social distancing because, in the long run, it is going to make our nation healthier more quickly.

What should you do today? Bring a word of peace to people who are huddled in fear.  Model good citizenship for your neighbors. “It is well, it is well with my soul.”

The Hardest Part of Being a Friend

“The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.”  –Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude (source: http://inwardoutward.org)

If people were writing their life story would anyone write of you, ‘s/he was my best friend’?  What I am asking you is whether there is someone who views you as the one of whom they would write and mean that you really are their BFF (‘best friend forever’)?

It’s hard work being a friend. It takes time.  You go shopping. You attend the latest romantic comedy together. You find time to dine, swapping stories, sharing tales of your latest pains and woes. What else, in your mind, moves someone from the point of being a ‘friend’ to a ‘best friend’?

I am guessing that the ‘best’ part has something to do with the two of you having a history.  There is an old cartoon I remember in which the characters are sitting in a jail cell. The caption reads something like, “Your friend is the one who comes to visit you the next morning and says, ‘that was fun.’”  Being a BFF means you have some moments that the two of you can remember and smile.

The hardest part of being a friend, and the part where ‘best’ gets defined is perhaps the ability to sit silently, not trying to explain God’s apparent absence or abandonment. Just being there.

In today’s rushed world, full of endless distractions, it has become very hard to set aside time to be a ‘friend who cares.’  But that is what best friends do.  Do you care?