In Frightening Questioning Times

Today is Day 32 for us.

It was, for us, a rational and thought out step.

There was nothing knee-jerk about it. 

It was not fear-motivated. 

It was, in every sense, simply the right thing to do. We did not wait for the Governor to issue the Stay At Home order to begin practicing this social distancing thing.

Our age is a huge determining factor. Our personal physical conditions are a huge determining factor. Neither of us are afforded the luxury of throwing caution to the wind. As importantly, neither of us desire to be carriers that transmit this highly communicable virus to anyone; especially to someone with health conditions that easily allow the virus to kill them.

How has this choice, and the subsequent mandate, affected us personally?

It has hardly had an effect on our day to day lives.

Our way of life, considering that we are practically hermits to begin with, is pretty simple. Social distancing, for us, is already something of a lifestyle that we have adopted and tailored to fit our retirement years. We have been practicing it for quite a while now and personally thrive in solitude. It is not that we have become anti-social. It is that we have become extremely selective-social.

The great hardship imposed upon us personally by this Covid-19 season is that we are not able to attend Mass at the little parish that has become so dear to us. Public Masses in our Archdiocese have now [as of today] been suspended indefinitely. We are not surprised. Our hearts still sink within us at the news.  

Everything else associated with this pandemic, for us anyway, is nothing more than inconveniences. 

Everything else … except for the sickness, suffering, and death of others … except for the obvious struggles and anxiety of others that is so easily sensed … everything else except for the sensed obvious fear and paranoia that grips so many. Things like these are not inconveniences.  We feel them. We are deeply affected by things like these.

None of us have ever lived through such a time as this one.

We are being forced, by this virus and the stay at home orders, to isolate ourselves until the “powers that be” determine that it is practical and safe to rub elbows with one another and go about life as it once was before the virus. Isolation can be extremely difficult. In the stillness of isolation, regardless of how much exterior noise we make, we are forced to reckon with the noise of unsettled things in our interiority.

I do wonder.

I cannot help but to wonder.

Will life go back to what it was before the pandemic or will we all have to discover a new sense of normal on the other side of it? Only God knows. With this so fresh upon us, and with plenty of time to go before it is behind us, I am honestly leaning toward some version of the latter of the two possible outcomes.

In frightful questioning times like these … both the best and the worst within ourselves is forced to meet in a face to face wrestling match. In frightful questioning times like these … we are forced to grapple with the reality that [as much as we like to think we are] none of us are in control of what tomorrow will hold in store. It is also in frightful questioning times like these that the quality of our faith in God is put to the test.

We all face a lot of “unknowns” where this virus and the outplaying of the future is concerned. All of us face these unknowns with either faith or fear. Without faith in God, varying degrees of fearfulness will prevail to determine our personal outlooks and actions. Fearful responses and actions will always betray [as opposed to portray] confidence and trust in God. Fearful responses and actions will always lead us into deeper despair and fearfulness.

I am reminded of something that Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount. He said, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day.” [Matthew 6:34] This “therefore” comes at the end of his teaching about the Father being able to take care of us. You know the one about the birds of the air and the lilies in the field.

I am reminded, too, of something Saint Padre Pio tells us: “Pray, hope, and don’t worry. Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer.”

I certainly hope that at this point in my life in Christ, in my own conversatio morum, that I have wrestled enough with my own carnal nature so that the better side of me shows through in these frightful questioning times … that my life and words reflect the light and love of Christ in a way that causes Saint Benedict to say to Christ … “See that one, Lord. He is one of my students.”