Happy Pandemic Birthday!
Back in January 2020, I started hearing murmurs of a scary new virus that was wreaking havoc in some parts of Asia. It was discovered in December 2019, but as with many things that happen on the other side of the planet, I mostly watched with sympathy, never thinking for a moment that it would have any effect on me. Life was good and continued without interruption or delay.
But the news of the virus never went away. Instead, we started hearing more and more about it. Talk of the virus took over our conversations; pretty soon those conversations sounded like something from a science fiction movie. It couldn’t be true. We shouldn’t take it so seriously. Many people didn’t, including myself.
By February 20, 2020, Canada had its first confirmed case of COVID-19. We slowly started joking less about washing hands and wearing masks, and instead started to wonder what a lock down could look like. Along with fear, we witnessed concentrated anger towards certain people groups as we tried to make sense of what was happening.
The panic surrounding COVID-19 added to the political division and social unrest that we were experiencing even before the virus was discovered. The urgency of the climate crisis and its impending disasters heaped anxiety on many of us. Issues of justice, especially racial justice, reminded us that disparities still exist in our societies today. The political gaps continued to grow. The tension in 2020 was practically palpable.
As case numbers of COVID-19 grew around the world, our uncertainties grew as well. At our church, we started discussing whether or not it was still responsible to meet in-person. We weren’t yet mandated to shut our doors and we didn’t hear news of any cases in Manitoba, so we continued on as usual. Although people told me how big this was going to be, I remained in denial.
Then, on March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization declared that COVID-19 was a global pandemic. That same day, the National Basketball Association became the first major sports league in North America to suspend their season. It wasn’t long before other leagues did the same. Still, without sports to watch and increasing uncertainty, I thought life could continue on.
On the very next day, March 12, we heard of the first confirmed COVID-19 case in Manitoba. Then there were four by March 14, seven by March 16, and by March 20 Manitoba announced a State of Emergency, locking down the province for at least 30 days. Schools, daycares, stores, restaurants, sports leagues, and churches shut down. On March 27, Manitoba had its first death caused by COVID-19.
Life didn’t completely stop; instead it mostly became virtual. Church services, family gatherings, game nights, and schools all moved online. We held our first online-only service at Sterling Mennonite Fellowship on March 22, 2020. I remember telling our church that we were shutting down to care for the vulnerable in our midst, but I was hopeful we would be back in-person by Easter.
Well, 11 months have since passed - we are now at the one year mark of when COVID-19 turned our lives upside-down. I’ll admit it may seem strange to commemorate this milestone. I’m not suggesting we blow up balloons and eat cake (although if you wanted to do that, go for it!), but this occasion gives us a chance to pause and reflect on the past year, remember our losses, and reorient ourselves to the future.
Near the beginning of the pandemic, it always felt like we were second guessing ourselves, afraid to do the wrong thing. This was uncharted territory for us in 2020, but it ‘s important to recognize that people have lived through inexplicable, painful, and hopeless times before. Preserved for us in ancient texts (like the Bible) are the prayers and songs of hurting people. Scripture models a form of response for occasions like the one year anniversary of a global pandemic, known as lament.
“Lament is a form of prayer we turn to when we have no answers”
Lament is a form of prayer we turn to when we have no answers, when we feel like there’s no hope, and when our pain and loss feels too great to bear. It’s a form of prayer we use when we’re powerless to change situations for ourselves or for others who experience injustice. It’s a form of prayer through which we can let it all out before God, knowing that God can handle everything that’s on our hearts - the cries, the screams, and the blame.
Yes, there’s hope. Things are still changing and there have been beautiful moments along the way. We’ve learned a lot. We’ve dealt with important social issues. We’ve been reminded to not take simple things for granted. But before we try to put a silver lining on everything, it’s okay for us to wrestle with the pain and loss we have, and continue to, experience.
Lament is prayer because through it, we orient our difficulties (however raw) to God. And Scripture reminds us that God can handle it. In fact, God welcomes it. Psalms of disorientation and lament (for example Psalms 13, 35, 74, 79, 86, and 137) are models for us and can become our prayer too:
Psalm 13:1-2
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
I am certain that many of us need to pray a prayer like this after all we’ve experienced in this pandemic. Let me encourage you to take time to lament. Especially in the season of Lent as we journey to the darkness of Good Friday, take time to name the struggles and losses of this pandemic in whatever form works for you. Read some of the lament Psalms that speak of disorientation. Spend time before God, trusting that although we may not get answers, God hears and is present.