Friday, May 15, 2020

We Can't Go Back—We Must Find Our Way Forward

I will never be the same again,
I can never return; I've closed the door.
I will walk the path, I'll run the race
And I will never be the same again.
Hillsong United
As I write this, the COVID-19 quarantine is in its ninth week here where I live in Maryland. Many of us—including me—long for things to get “back to normal.”  We want to resume things we did before the pandemic.  My kids want to play baseball and softball.  We want to “go to church”—something our pastoral family used to take for granted as our routine every Sunday.  I want to watch sports on TV—any sports!  I want to go to Starbucks and enjoy the simple pleasure of a cup of coffee and enjoying my favorite “third space.”   Heck, we just want to give our loved ones living outside our home a big hug!  

In Maryland, Governor Hogan has declared that as of Friday May 15 at 5 PM EDT, Phase 1 of “reopening” the state may begin.  Honestly, whatever his motivation for doing so, I fear the Governor may be rushing things a bit.  Local authorities in several counties have been quick to indicate they are not ready to reopen.  

As a follower of Christ, I’m called to learn from Jesus how he would live my life if he were me.  Part of that means learning to discern whether something we’re legally allowed to do by the government is the best course of action for us to take.  The Apostle Paul admonishes the Philippians to look out not just for their own interests, but also for others—i.e., for the common good of all—Philippians 2:4.  In another letter, he reminded the Corinthians that: Everything is permissible, but not all things are beneficial­1 Corinthians 6:12 and 10:23.  Paul was a Roman Citizen, which meant he had the “right” to do as much as anyone could in his day.  But, after his conversion, Paul realized that he answered to a higher authority than Caesar.  Even though he could do many things, he had to decide if he would do them.  He based his decisions on what was “best” for him as to as a follower of Christ and for those he was trying to influence to follow his example as he followed Christ.

When I take all this into consideration, I just can’t see Jesus (or Paul) jeopardizing other human lives just so they could get a coffee at Starbucks.  

So, as much as I long to eat out, or to get a long overdue “official” haircut, or whatever else it might be I wish I could do right now, I’m inclined to wait a bit longer—even if the authorities tell me “it’s okay” for me to do it.  Denying myself these things a while longer doesn’t cause me to suffer in any way, nor am I being persecuted unjustly by having to wear a mask when I do go out in public.  No, I’m merely being inconvenienced a little bit.  I’m choosing to sacrifice just a little of my personal freedom, to promote the health and well-being of all.  We would do well to remember Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), who suffered an excruciating death on a Roman Cross.  That kind of puts my “sacrifice” of going for a few months without a Starbucks coffee and wearing a mask when I go out in public in its proper perspective—Hebrews 12:1–13

In a devotional this week, I read: “Leadership is the ability to point out a way, direction, or goal… and to influence others towards it.” [1]  I see Jesus doing this with his disciples in John 14:1–9.  He told his friends he would be leaving them soon, but that they already knew the way to the place he was going.  As often happened, the disciples didn’t understand what Jesus meant. Thomas was never afraid to voice his questions, so he probably spoke on behalf of the whole group when he said: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going.  How can we know the way?”  The response is well-known (although perhaps taken out of context): I am the way, and the truth, and the life, no one comes to the Father except through me.  

Jesus showed his followers the way by being the Way.  As they followed the Way in the world, as they learned to live as Jesus lived, they found the way to the place he was going.  As Jesus said a few verses later: “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.”  Or as Albert Schweitzer put it, “Example is not the main thing in influencing others.  It is the only thing.”

In a breathtakingly short amount of time, life as we knew it has been fundamentally changed because of this pandemic, in ways we are just beginning to understand.  The truth is, while we will eventually resume some of the activities we did before COVID-19, we’re never going back to exactly the way things were before.  (Really, can we ever really “go back” to the past?)  Step by tentative step, we must find our way forward together.  We have to figure out what the “new normal” will be in so many different arenas.  At our church, for example, we have a Relaunch Team that—with input from many others—will “point out a way” toward resuming activity in our church building for our congregation and other activities that take place in the building—and also will discern when the time is right for various activities to return.  In many other areas of “secular” life, we will need guides to “point out a way;” we need leaders who carefully discern the next steps, and influence others to follow.  

Ultimately, though, as followers of Christ we look to Jesus to “point out a way”—and we can count on him to do it, because he is the Way.  The way he points out likely won’t be the most convenient way we could travel or the easiest road we could choose to walk—but it will be the right way.   The Way we are looking for is standing in front of us.  Our choice is the same as it was for Thomas and the others: Will we recognize it—and choose to follow?  


[1] Lowney, Chris, Make Today Matter.  Quoted in Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2020 [2020, Loyola Press, Chicago, IL] “May 10–May 16,” p. 187,

Monday, May 4, 2020

A Poem for Hope During a Pandemic

Those of you familiar with my story know that today is what our family calls “Hope Day”.  It was twelve years ago today that our daughter Hope Marie passed from life support to life eternal.  This weekend is always bittersweet for our family, as we celebrate our twin’s birthday on May 2, and then remember Hope’s death just two days later on May 4.  I’ve written many entries on this blog telling that story that you can easily look up if you don't know the details.  In fact, the blog actually began when the girls were born.

The whole experience this year coincides with the corporate tragedy of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic that has had such a devastating impact on our nation and our world.  This year, we celebrated Rebecca’s birthday in quarantine on Saturday.  We made the most of it, but it certainly wasn’t how any of us expected to celebrate it. 

Now, today, we take our yearly solitary pilgrimage to Miranda Cemetery.  As Christ followers, we don’t really believe Hope is there, but we embark on this intentional journey each year to visit the stone that marks where her tiny body was buried nearly 12 years ago and honor our daughter’s memory.  We remember that Hope’s life—however brief—mattered immensely.  

During April, I participated in an online poetry workshop.  I do lots of writing, but poetry is certainly a growing edge for me.  It’s the language of the heart and I’m not as comfortable speaking it.  I’ve spent most of my life learning the language of the head, producing technical writing for NASA and essays on this blog.   Most of the time I access my heart indirectly, through my head, but poetry is meant to cut straight to the heart.  

We had a prompt every day during April.  I didn’t respond to all of them; in fact, I didn’t respond to all that many of them.  But I was pleased with the poems I did write.  I’d like to share one below.  There are two versions posted below.  Some of you heard the first version read aloud on as part of Good Shepherd UMC's online worship service on May 3.  The second version was a revised version that mixes rhyming couplets with free verse.  

**********          **********         **********          **********          **********
         Songs by Broken Heart
By Alan B. Ward

There is a tendency to sing
When we’ve lost everything.
When the whole cosmos seems wrong
Somehow humans continue our Song:

Exiles in Babylon.
Sing of the glory of Zion.
Calls for Hobbit songs as Gondor falls?
Surely Denethor must be enthralled!
Negro slaves back yonder
Lifted their cries to a God of wonders.
When Terrorists toppled the Towers.
Singing “God bless America” empowered.
As COVID-19 put the world on its knees.
Italians sang songs from their balconies.
  
To each a moment comes
When our world is undone.
To all under the curse
The chance to add our Verse.

To continue the song
When Wrong seems too strong
The lyrics we impart
Must be known by broken heart.

When our darling Hope died.
Without heaving a sigh.
From the depths of our soul
Came songs that consoled.

The NICU staff noted a grace.
That seemed out of place.
As at Golgotha, when Spirit’s breath
Blew through a place of pain and death.
God permeated that space.
Jesus wept with a human face:
And a flicker of Divine joy.
Entered our void.

What matters most.
When all other music is lost.
Is having well-known tunes—non-random
That you simply cannot abandon.
Then, even as tears rain down.
The depth of harmony will astound.

**********          **********         **********          **********          **********
Songs by Broken Heart
[Version 2.0] By Alan B. Ward

It seems human nature to sing
When we’ve lost everything.

We hear the voice of the exiles in Babylon.
Weeping by the river,
Mourning the life they’ve lost.
They play songs for their captors.
Praising the former glory of Zion.

We hear the voice of the African slave.
Lives uprooted, bought and sold like cattle.
Vital cogs in a racist way of life.
Toiling in Ole Master’s fields.
Singing songs of freedom.

These voices seem out of place,
Like Pippin singing his Hobbit song for Denethor
As Faramir embarks on his hopeless quest, 
Ast the White Tree drops its leaves,
And as the gates of Gondor shudder.

In times such as these the only lyrics we can impart.
Are those we know by broken heart. 

When Terrorists toppled the Towers.
And our Symbols lay in ruins.
We needed a song to sing together.
“God bless America” became a nation’s healing balm.

As COVID-19 places the world on its knees.
Italians sing songs from their balconies.
Voices on Zoom sing in four-part harmony.
Josh Groben sings from his shower.

Music mitigates misery.

To all under the curse
Will come the chance to add your Verse.

Twelve years ago.
I became the father of twins: Hope and Rebecca.
On the surface both were perfect.
But Hope was merely a shell.
“Twin-to-twin transfusion.”
“Catastrophic injury in utero.”
The autopsy states things so matter-of-factly..
But she was our daughter!

Darling Hope passed.
From life support to life eternal.
Just two days after birth.
No one saw it coming.

I’m a writer.
But all my attempts to say what that moment was for me.
Fall short.

But then: What can anyone say?!

I recall in those days.
From the depths our soul.
We felt melodies rising.  
Songs so embedded in us
We could not not sing them.

The NICU staff noted a grace.
That seemed out of place.

We baptized our daughter
As she lay dying.
Spirit’s breath.
Blew through that sterile medical place.
Death seems so final
But faith says we will see Hope again..

Even as our tears rained down.
The Broken-Hearted Song went on.

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