COVID19: April 27, 2020 - Stigma

I don't know if this is real, or if I'm imagining it. But it seems to me that there is some kind of social stigma attached to becoming infected with COVID-19. Have you noticed it? It's not like saying, "She has the flu." It's spoken in hushed tones, if it's divulged at all. I wonder why.

I appreciate those who have been open about having the virus, especially celebrities who have shared their experiences with us. That helps to normalize it for the rest of us. It's an illness any of us can get. There's no shame in it.

Unfortunately, there are illnesses that we have attached shame to, such as HIV/AIDS. The assumption is that the illness was contracted as a result of a person's actions. Of course, this isn't necessarily true, but it is the unspoken assumption people have. Then, there are also illnesses that people assume the afflicted person can control if they have a mind to, like alcoholism or depression. Again, it's a false assumption, but one that many people hold.

People are reluctant to publicly reveal that they have illnesses like HIV, or depression because they don't want to be judged. The way I know this, as a pastor, is that rarely would a person suffering from an illness like this want me to share it with the congregation on a Sunday morning. "Sally is in the hospital with pneumonia." Okay. "Bill is in rehab for alcoholism." Not so much. In most cases, Bill won't want to be included in the prayers, even without explanation, because he won't want people to be asking him what's wrong, or even worse, gossiping about him.

What I'm noticing is that COVID-19 has become one of those illnesses we're hesitant to name publicly. And I can't figure out why. I wonder if it's related to listening to those numbers that are reported on the news. "Today, one case of the coronavirus was reported in Adams County." How does it feel to hear this if that one reported case is for someone you love? And why would you want to publicly identify them?

Perhaps, in time, this will pass. But in the meanwhile, it only adds to the isolation of those who are struggling. This is true not only for those who suffer from COVID-19, but also for those who suffer from any illness that has a social stigma attached. To be judged for an illness may be the worst judgment of all. The illness is enough of a burden without adding to it the burden of being judged by others. Jesus had a special place in his heart for such people and made it his business to remove both burdens.

Resurrected Yet Still Wounded

Message shared with Ascension Lutheran Church - online worship April 26, 2020.

Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. (Luke 24: 36-40)

Back in 2004 Mel Gibson produced a film called The Passion of the Christ. I had to see it along with all the other millions of movie-goers, so I’d know what everyone was talking about.

In the entire movie, the thing that impressed me the most happened in the last 30 seconds. After all the gory, grueling footage of the crucifixion, Mel had to give us at least of glimpse of the resurrection. So, in the last moments of the movie, we saw his depiction of the resurrected Jesus.

And there he was, looking like he had just stepped out of the shower. He was wearing a dazzling white robe and his skin was glowing like the skin of a newborn baby. Jesus was absolutely perfect. Except for the fact that when he reached out his hands, there were open wounds where the nails had been.

And for the first time, the absurdity of a resurrected, yet still wounded, Christ struck me. I mean, God could clean Jesus up and bring him back to life, but he couldn’t heal the wounds in his hands? It makes no sense. And yet, this is true to what we read in the Bible. It took seeing it on the big screen for me to realize how jarring it is. 

I mean, what’s up with that? Why, with his all new and improved resurrected body, does Jesus still bear his wounds from the cross? 

At first it seems that Jesus somehow needed these marks to prove who he was to his disbelieving disciples. But is this just about Jesus identifying himself to those who needed proof, or is there another reason why the resurrected Christ bore the wounds from his crucifixion? 

Those wounds Jesus takes with him in his resurrected body are more than an ID pass to flash at his disciples. When Jesus says, “Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself” he is showing his disciples what following the Jesus Way in the world looks like. Jesus' hands and feet mean something to us. We need to look at his hands and feet when we’re all caught up in the glory of God singing, “How Great Thou Art” while ignoring the fact that discipleship means enduring scars on behalf of others.

Without the wounds on his hands and feet, we might be inclined to say that was all in the past and now we worship a Christ who left the nastiness of the cross behind him. Now we’re following a spiritual Christ who reigns in splendor and has been removed from engaging in the ugliness of life in this world.

But we can’t do that. Because we follow a Christ who still bears the marks of suffering in this world. Even in resurrected glory, he still bears the scars of his humanity. That’s significant for us, as Christians. As Richard Rohr has pointed out, Christianity is the only religion in the world in which people worship a wounded God. Think about that that means for us.

Rohr writes: “A naked, bleeding, wounded, crucified man is the most unlikely image for God, a most illogical image for Omnipotence (which is most peoples’ natural image for God). Apparently, we have got God all wrong!

“Jesus is revealing a very central problem for religion, by coming into the world in this most unexpected and even unwanted way….The significance of Jesus’ wounded body is his deliberate and conscious holding of the pain of the world and refusing to send it elsewhere. The wounds were not necessary to convince God that we were lovable; the wounds are to convince us of the path and the price of transformation. They are what will happen to you if you hold sin in compassion instead of projecting it in hatred. 

When we look at the crucified Jesus, we see what we do to one another and to the world. When we look at the resurrected Christ, we see God’s response to our crucifixions.”  

What does it mean for you to follow a resurrected Christ who still bears our wounds?

COVID19: April 24, 2020 - No singing?

When we first started this stay-at-home stuff, I wasn’t fazed. We can do this. It won’t last forever. At the time I was wondering if we would worship together when Easter rolled around. It didn’t take me more than a week to realize that wasn’t going to happen. Then it seemed like maybe it wouldn’t be until May that we worshiped together again. Last week, I adjusted my thinking to June.

Yesterday I read some guidelines that the Wisconsin Council of Churches have outlined after considering all the scientific facts. They were devastating. I spent most of the day sobbing.

While it may be that we can finally stop quarantining ourselves, that won’t mean that we’ll resume worshiping as we once did. Recommendations included distancing from one another, wearing face masks, removing all the hymnals, thorough disinfecting the space after every worship (can this be done multiple times on a Sunday?), refraining from any socializing before or after worship, limiting the number of people who can attend, and making worship off limits for people at risk or over the age of 60. Since I’m 67, that last one stung. How is that going to work?

Of all the guidelines, the one that was a death blow to my heart was the one that said no singing. No singing?! I’ve been stressing over how we ever will be able to commune face-to-face again. How can I stand at the altar and consecrate the elements? How can we receive communion wearing face-masks? Is there any safe way to commune in person? That’s where my head’s been. It never occurred to me that an even bigger concern could be singing! In all the scenarios I had envisioned, I never considered that singing would be off limits.   

Today we heard our governor’s plan for re-opening Maryland. Nothing he said contradicts what I read coming out of Wisconsin. With all the restrictions being suggested, I keep wondering how we’ll ever be able to do it. Even more so, I wonder why we would even want to. Why bother trying to worship in person when everything about worship that is meaningful will be taken away? For many people, the only way worship will be possible will continue to be online. That also may be true for those who can come to the church building for worship with all the restrictions in place.

I am trying to accept this and I know I’ll get there eventually. Right now, I grieve.

Peace Be with You

Message shared in online worship for Ascension Lutheran Church in Towson, Maryland - April 19, 2020

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” – John 20:19-21

I don’t know about you, but I can certainly identify with the disciples of Jesus. Here they are, hiding out in the upper room together. Shut off from the world and everybody in it. Does that sound familiar? They are sheltering in place.

We learn that they’re hiding in fear.

Now, I know that the chance of me dying from the coronavirus is slight, especially since I haven’t been around anyone else for weeks now. But I confess that in the back of my mind, I still have this feeling of foreboding. I imagine anyone who’s died from this unpredictable disease never thought they were going to get it. So, the fear, no matter how irrational it is, remains.

But it’s not just a fear of catching a dreaded illness that holds me captive, any more than the fear of the Jewish leaders was holding Jesus’ disciples behind locked doors, in this safe place.

They had been traumatized. The reality they thought they knew from day-to-day was suddenly shattered. And they never saw it coming.

It’s like sailing along in a boat, taking in the sunshine, enjoying the placidness of the water. It’s so calm and peaceful that you even nod off a bit. And then, all of a sudden, you’re in the midst of a mighty storm. The waves crash into your boat and smash it to pieces. One minute you were being lulled to sleep and the next you’re in the water, fighting to survive, grabbing at anything you can to stay afloat.

When Jesus was arrested and crucified, the disciples didn’t see it coming. Perhaps they should have, if they really listened to what Jesus was telling them, but I suppose they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it because it was so… unbelievable.

Isn’t that what the trauma we’re experiencing is like, too? It’s surreal. Never in our wildest dreams could we ever have imagined this time. We went to sleep one night and thought we knew what the days ahead would look like for us. We thought they’d be much like the days we had experienced in the past. But we woke up to a different reality. We didn’t see it coming. It’s left us in a fearful place.

And now, we can’t foresee what’s coming next. We have no idea what this means for us and our larger world. Will it be a total reset for us once this has passed? It’s hard to imagine that our lives could return to the way they were before.

Like the disciples after Jesus’ death, we didn’t see it coming and now we can’t foresee what’s coming next. As a planet, we’re all suffering from a collective form of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome right now. So, we hunker down in our homes and wait for this to pass, uncertain of what comes next.

But as hard as we try to shut everything out, an intruder has entered all our homes. His name is Jesus. He’s right here in our homes. Uninvited.

We wouldn’t dare open our doors to him because Governor Hogan might sick the National Guard on us. But Jesus doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t care about coronavirus, or social distancing, or even the fears that hold us captive. He walks right through the walls of our homes and stands among us.

Can you feel his presence? Let me tell you that, whether you can feel it or not, he’s right there with you. You can’t shut him out. And here’s what he says to us.   “Peace be with you.”

Of all the things we need to hear, this is it, isn’t it? Peace be with you.

I know we’re living in a world you never could have imagined. I know we didn’t see it coming, and I know we’re anxious about what’s coming next. But you’ll get through this, Jesus says. I’m here. All will be well. Peace be with you.