Opinion
We have survived catastrophe in the past. And not just survived – ultimately, we thrived.
Photo by Katherine Gu on Unsplash
This past Sunday, some of the only Christians legally permitted to gather in person for worship in many states were those of us who gathered for worship in prisons. I am a chaplain at a women’s minimum custody prison, and I welcomed my congregation to worship with the words, “Tonight we are not just worshipping for ourselves. We are standing in the gap for Christians in the whole state and in much of the nation who are not permitted to gather together to read the lectionary, say the Lord’s Prayer, or celebrate the Eucharist.'
CBPP President Bob Greenstein examines what the $2 trillion stimulus bill means for Americans.
Barbara Jordan September 25, 1974. Image via Wikimedia Commons.
Being black in America is a privilege coupled with unique challenges. The privilege is possessing a heritage authentic to only our diaspora no matter how littered and pained our history may be. As a black man, I did not understand the challenges wholly until I grew older. For black women, the challenges are similar but with added layers that exist because of our American male driven capitalistic based economic silo.
The plague of Florence in 1348, as described in Boccaccio's Decameron. Etching by L. Sabatelli after himself. Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
Between 1347 and 1352, 'The Great Mortality' touched a third of Europe's population.
A woman recites the "Our Father" with a rosary in her hand in the window of her home, in Grosseto, Italy, March 25, 2020. REUTERS/Jennifer Lorenzini
As President Trump has said he’d like to see “packed churches all over our country” on Easter Sunday to help him re-open the country and restart the economy, which he apparently thinks will help him get re-elected, we need the words of the Lord’s Prayer more than ever. The call to reopen comes despite the exact opposite instructions from health are professionals, along with governors and mayors across our nation, to maintain our social distance and closures until the danger of this modern plague are past us. Trump’s dangerous invitation to take our worship and prayers back into our churches before it is safe to do so is not only monstrous political irresponsibility, but religious sacrilege.
The church is called to meet Jesus in the streets with the homeless — for in a time when people are called to shelter in place they have no place to go. The church must also meet Jesus in places like Flint, Mich. where poor people who are already suffering from respiratory conditions related to contaminated water are amongst those at highest risk.
Pedestrians are reflected off a window as they walk past boarded-up businesses in the Hayes Valley district after California Gov. Gavin Newsom implemented a statewide "stay at home order." March 21, 2020. REUTERS/Stephen Lam
In this moment, Chinese and Asian American communities are facing the double stress of having to reckon with the racism and xenophobia they encounter, compounded with having to deal with the virus outbreak itself.
German energy supplier and utility RWE is reflected in a puddle in Neurath, north-west of Cologne, Germany, Feb. 5, 2020. REUTERS/Wolfgang Rattay
We can make radical change more quickly than we imagined. COVID-19 and climate change demand nothing less.
Volunteer sets up portable hand-washing station. Credit: Dani Andujo, Love Beyond Walls.
Lecrae and Pastor Terence Lester teamed up to build portable hand-washing stations.
Jim Wallis speaks with Dr. Leana Wen, an emergency physician, public health leader, and a passionate advocate for patient-centered health care reform.
NIH National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases Director Anthony Fauci and Vice President Mike Pence listen as President Donald Trump leads the daily coronavirus response briefing at the White House in Washington, March 24, 2020. REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst
I suspect Trump thought I, a pastor, would be overjoyed by this news. After all, Easter is the most sacred day of the Christian year. It is the day we celebrate life over death and hope over fear. The thought of watching my congregation gather on Zoom for this holiest of days has left me sad and discouraged. I’ve silently mourned each week that my congregation cannot sing together, or share meals or hugs. Instead, we click a link to see each other’s faces appears in the grid of a computer monitor.
An employee of Hamilton Medical AG tests a ventilator at a plant in Domat/Ems, Switzerland March 18, 2020. REUTERS/Arnd Wiegmann/File Photo
That’s the hard decision facing us, we’re told: Sacrifice lives or sacrifice the economy. This is a false choice. Sacrifice is necessary, but it doesn’t have to be lives or our common well-being.
A worker in a protective suit disinfects the St. Antuan Catholic church in Istanbul, Turkey March 16, 2020. REUTERS/Kemal Aslan
Despite the switch of rhetoric on the coronavirus in the past week from both President Trump and Fox News, some church leaders still refuse to close their doors. They tend to fall into a few different camps.
Image via REUTERS/Brad Brooks
We’re the canaries in the mine, sensing the danger before it comes, and I hope for all of us that next time you’ll listen sooner. Maybe we can all learn the words of Philippians 2:4, to not only look to our own interested but also to the interests of others, or Jesus’s command to love our neighbor as ourselves.
Bruce Gillespie at Yale Divinity School. Image courtesy YDS.
A crisis like the coronavirus pandemic reveals who we are as individuals and society. When push comes to shove, as the saying goes, which side of us will have the final say?
Image via REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst
Ruling authorities were concerned primarily about their image and standing with the public. The threat of the coronavirus was downplayed and ignored. They changed course and acted only after the evidence became undeniable. Even then a main concern has been to shift blame to others. Their obsession was with their reputation. Self-righteous defensiveness and pride governed power, rather than compassion and commitment to the common good. That is social sin.
Photo by Mr TT on Unsplash
In the midst of this coronavirus pandemic, I find myself waking up in the morning longing for something that will make me feel alive and tethered to hope. I scan my bookshelves for something that will remind me to keep going. I listen to music that helps me stay grounded and secured to goodness. We watch shows as a family and play board games so that we can laugh. We go on walks and chase the dogs in the back yard because we are trying to do this the best we can.
Miniature by Pierart dou Tielt illustrating the Tractatus quartus bu Gilles li Muisit (Tournai, c. 1353). The people of Tournai bury victims of the Black Death. via Wikimedia Commons
In some cities, mistrust was widespread. In others, people came together across religious lines.