After having read this morning a survey of new spikes of the coronavirus, I find myself swinging on an emotional trapeze between feelings of disappointment and anger at the stupidity of all the people who have disregarded the protocols directed by governments around the world in the face of the disease. While I understand the protests in our country and elsewhere against racism and police brutality, I find it difficult to abide those who disregard the order for the wearing of masks and the 6-foot distance between people in public.
I live in New York State and thereby can testify to the success of following those directives. I have watched the daily reports of the diminishing number of deaths in our state each day which this week reached 24 after peaking weeks ago in the hundreds. Surprisingly to many people, New Yorkers have proven themselves to be obedient citizens!
To be fair, I must admit that I live in a rural area and can work from home so am somewhat protected. There have been a few days when I have needed to abort my visits to the post office (my only excursions that take me out of my house and car) because of forgetting my mask. I learned quickly, however, to be more mindful, even if only to realize that I could leave a mask in my car to avoid such frustration. It is said that learning a new habit takes 29 days. If that is true, there seems now – after day 100 of this new reality – that we would have learned the processes of masking and standing 6 feet apart.
I can only think that living in the United States of America, “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” has accustomed us to blurring the lines of freedom toward license when things become difficult. It’s hard to always do the “right thing” or even to know what that thing is. There are situations in this country and elsewhere that demand dangerous responses to the situation and courageous actions in the face of this pandemic. First responders and healthcare workers among many other groups deserve our respect and admiration. Moreover, they deserve our compliance to what has been asked of us for the common good.
It is not a choice; it’s a necessity! So please: put on that mask and forego that hug, even when it hurts! It may just be that you are saving a life by doing so.
Sometimes it’s necessary to count on the words of others for inspiration or solace. That’s one of the primary reasons for my frequent references to biblical texts or modern inspirational writers at this season when bad news seems to vie with inclement weather to wipe out most, if not all, spiritual energy. Joyce Rupp is my “saving grace” this morning with the conclusion to a prayer service for peace in her book, Prayer Seeds. May it be a motivator for you as well.
The National Rifle Association Convention begins a second day in Dallas, Texas as I find a prayer for peace by Joyce Rupp. Gun control is undoubtedly the most hotly debated issue in the United States today. I will pray this prayer today and tomorrow as the meeting proceeds, in hopes that demonstrations will be peaceful, that hearts will be turned toward reason and that guns will not be seen as the solution to every distressful situation. It is, at the core, a matter of the heart and decisions must be made from that inner place in each of us.
Affirmation can come from any source at any time. I have a present and clear example this morning of exactly what I needed as a first item being checked off on a full calendar of tasks and events today. In conversation yesterday with a colleague who is unable to be at a 3-day meeting this weekend because of the death of a close friend, he suddenly said, “Oh, I was supposed to be chaplain for the group!” (This is a position of prayer preparation for the days and is often also one of awareness of the need to take a break for silence in deliberation.) I told him I would do it for him and this morning wrote a brief message to the committee that said, “I have agreed to step into the role of chaplain for the meeting.” Three times I added clauses that said: “if you all agree” and “unless someone else desires to do it” and “if it’s okay with everyone.” Each time I erased the addition and finally said to myself: “Just do it!” 
Although I know that Sunday is considered the first day of the week, it is Monday that usually calls me to take stock and ready myself for the work that this week will see done or undone when next Sunday rolls around. Today, after two weeks of many full and fruitful days, I am grateful for the opportunity to have this day not only to make a measured plan but also to begin to plod mindfully along, hoping for some level of achievement by the end of the week. I am not naïve enough to think that all will go as planned – that is not the nature of “real life” in my “neck of the woods” – but just making the plan is a good enough start for me right now. Thomas Merton gives me impetus to put my mind and heart into that task this morning with the following reflection.
Today Christians celebrate the great feast of Pentecost (from the Greek for “the fiftieth day”), the commemoration of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit that enlivened the disciples of Jesus to spread the message of God’s love for the world. Lest we think that Christians are the only ones who celebrate faith at this time – 50 days after Easter, we need to look further back to recognize that there is a linkage to the Jewish festival of Shavuot, the Festival of Weeks, which falls fifty days after Passover. In speaking of this connection, Fr. Dwight Longenecker writes from the Christian viewpoint: This [feast] was kept as a commemoration of Moses receiving the Divine Law on Sinai. The Christians understood that as the law came down from heaven to Moses for the people of God, so the Holy Spirit came down on the church. The age of the Mosaic Law was therefore fulfilled and completed by the new age of Spirit and Grace. (CRUX, June 3, 2017)
Last evening I had a graced conversation with four other women. Our sharing began a couple of years ago in a book study that was scheduled to last five or six weeks. At the end of that time, it was clear that no one wanted to terminate the conversation so we decided to meet once a month and delegated the facilitator of the book group to find texts – either a short passage for one gathering or a book that would serve us for several meetings. Last night only five of us gathered for the conclusion of our consideration of a very meaningful book called 