“For the Lord will deliver them” (Jeremiah 31:11)
Wishing six months of reality was not real
This morning a member of the church reminded me that it has been six months since we lost the first people in Stoddard County to the coronavirus. In one week our community experienced thirty or more nursing home residents testing positive all at the same time. Within a few days the first deaths had occurred. Two of that first wave were part of our congregation.
Back then the coronavirus was still new. We were only beginning to figure out how to manage the epidemic. Worship had moved online. School was cancelled. Missourians were ordered to stay at home for weeks on end. It was a challenging time, but throughout all of those early stages I was impressed by the flexibility and creativity of the people of Dexter. We found new ways of doing things and learned how to connect with each other even when it was not safe to be in the same room.
Summer was a roller coaster as businesses began to reopen and people constantly adapted to ever changing rules and safety guidelines. Worship returned to the sanctuary and we installed new equipment to improve our live stream capabilities. By the time fall arrived and school restarted we had begun to get into a routine. Social distancing, school kids wearing masks, and worship without public singing almost felt normal. It was nothing like the life we had all been living in the pre-COVID era, but at least it was stable.
Third wave arrives in Dexter
All that changed earlier this month when the third wave of infection arrived in Dexter in earnest. Nursing homes in the area experienced more outbreaks. Outside visitations were curtailed. Schools heightened safety restrictions. The Veterans Day assembly turned into a tribute video. Churches began to make adjustments to their ministry. Some services were canceled altogether. Others, including the Dexter Ministerial Alliance Thanksgiving Service, were moved online.
The fact that all of that has happened in such a short period of time why this morning’s six month reminder hit me so hard. It feels like we have all lived several years’ worth of trauma at once. Everything has changed. It is almost hard to remember what life was like in the “before times.”
Because of this onslaught everyone is tired. Everyone is frustrated. Everyone is hurting in some way. Whether families have lost someone or not, we have all been affected by the virus in some way. It has affected our culture, our politics, our economy, and our sense of security. In addition to the direct health effects of the epidemic, the compounding challenges of anxiety and stress brought about isolation have led to mental health issues for people all around the country.
This reality is what scares me the most about the mounting third wave. We are not starting from a place of strength. Everyone is worn out, myself included. 250,000 Americans are dead. 32 citizens of Stoddard County, including three members of our congregation, are no longer with us. To think that these numbers going forward are the floor, not the ceiling, is utterly disheartening.
Even though vaccines now seem to be right around the corner, by the time every person receives this protection it is likely that we will have lost more people in just a few months than our country did in four years of fighting in World War II. In addition to those who died, there will be hundreds of thousands more who may face lifelong complications from the disease.
Sermon prep reminds me of our hope
In the middle of all that it is my job as pastor to somehow offer a word of grace. This is why I am grateful for this week’s sermon text, Jeremiah 31:1-14. It was written in a time when everything seemed to be coming apart. The government was corrupt. The economy was tilted in favor of the rich and powerful. The poor were being forgotten and exploited. People were exhausted, frustrated, and angry. Things needed to change.
In the middle of that reality, the prophet reminded them of God’s promises. Jeremiah told people that God would provide them rest. Their vineyards, places of worship, and the nation itself would be rebuilt. Those who had their lives disrupted and were scattered to the four winds would be brought back home. As the third wave begins in earnest, I need to be reminded that not too long from now I will be able to rejoice in the bounty of the Lord. As I grieve an ever rising death toll I need to hear that there will come a time when sorrow will be no more.
Although I know it will not happen tomorrow, I need Jeremiah’s assurance of a new wine that is to come. I need to know that my dry and weary bones will someday be like a well-watered garden. I am ready to sorrow no more.
This promise is the thing that keeps me going right now. The way things are is not the way things will always be. The mercy of God is from everlasting to everlasting. Jesus offers us total forgiveness and reconciliation. He offers us the fulfillment of Jeremiah’s prophecy that the young and the old will dance and be glad when the kingdom of God is at hand.
Today I am grateful for that promise. I am ready for him to turn my mourning into gladness; and for him to give us all comfort and joy instead of sorrow.
May it be so.
