Yes, we are.
But in lots of ways, no, we absolutely are not.
This morning on NPR I heard the story of Daniel Garcia of Houston, Texas. (https://www.npr.org/2020/07/18/892593769/texas-man-on-what-its-like-being-evicted-during-the-covid-19-pandemic).
And it broke me.
Garcia is 46 years old. He was laid off from his job repossessing cars in April. Because Daniel’s wife is confined to a wheelchair, he is the sole breadwinner for his household. The Garcias also have a six-year-old son.
As I listened to his story, I found that Daniel also faces another obstacle in his effort to find a new job. He has a criminal record.
Two weeks ago, the Garcias were evicted from their apartment because they could not pay their rent. The housing court judge told Daniel he could appeal the decision, but that he would have to put up one full month’s rent first.
And so, Daniel, his wife and son packed their worldly belongings into a U-Haul and moved out. They were able to afford a few nights at a low-budget motel, but are now living in the back of their U-Haul, wondering what to do next.
My breaking point came when Daniel choked up on air and said, “I feel like I have failed my family.”
Yes, this pandemic has forced some unwanted changes for Joan and me. The Viking River cruise we planned to take in May from Nuremberg to Budapest was cancelled. We were not able to fly to Seattle this month to visit my siblings and 96-year-old stepmother. We have not been able to go to movies, see concerts, or watch live sporting events on television since early March. For a while, we had to use the order online, drive-up pickup service for grocery shopping.
Boo hoo! Poor us.
We still have our house and our cars. We still have food in our fridge. We still have our health. Since we are both retired, our employment status has not been affected by the virus at all. In fact, we both decided that had we each still been working at our previous jobs when the pandemic struck, we would probably have been able to continue working.
The presence of this virus on every continent, in every country, in every state, and in every community on earth gives this moment its shared and universal flavor. In reality, though, there is a wide, wide variance in how the virus is affecting people.
But what if…
… what if this moment helped us realize the vulnerability we share as human beings?
… what if we figured out how to use this moment to rekindle our compassion toward our neighbors?
… what if this moment helped us appreciate anew the quantum advances in the delivery of health care since the last pandemic a century ago?
… what if this moment led us all to a new kind of humility in the face of mystery of Creation?
… what if the “haves” suddenly realized that the “have nots” are actually their brothers and sisters?
… what if the existential anxiety of this moment caused us all to search for a deeper, more timeless, more unshakable narrative about the nature of the universe?
… what if this moment helped us realize that love can be just as communicable as this virus?
What if?
If any of that happened, my friend, we would ALL truly be in this together.
Abundant blessings;
I remember the interview very well, even though it happened more than 30 years ago.
For at least the first week and a half afterward, it is like I had an eye transplant. Old eyes gone… a new set dropped into their place.
Nevertheless, I still find myself surprised when I return from Guatemala (or Haiti, or Mexico, or the Australian outback) and discover how different everything looks back home here.
When my cheeks first began to sting, we were at the exact halfway point of the walk.
I said, “Well, you know… Rosie has been cooped up inside all day and I thought she needed a little bit of a walk. Hey… we were only gone like 20 minutes!”
Russellings of the Spirit 