Easter 2020

It is now a couple of weeks into the covid restricted activities, and not much has changed, except the weather. Daytimes are warmer and more humid,  and the nights are better with the air conditioning turned on. My personal project to improve sleep seems to be working. It makes me feel like I am controlling something in a world where now there are still many unpredictables. I learned a new word, "precariot" , it means a person living in conditions that are unpredictable.  I limit my consumption of news, and look for signs of hope among the collaborating scientists. Both Judy and I favor the reporting of the Christian Science Monitor, which is consistent in balancing the news with good reports from around the world.
  In some ways I am feeling relief that I have survived thus far. Apparently taking precautions of social distancing , etc.is helping to keep us safe. We have been consistent in having our groceries delivered, and making only necessary trips to routine needed medical appointments. At first the virus appeared so stealthy that it seemed like there was going to be no defense, and we had better get ready to die. I started living one-day-at-a-time, which is not a bad philosophy anyway. I have derived spiritual support from the writings of Fr. Richard Rohr.
  We still make a weekly trip to our former fruit trees to do gardening and harvest fruit. This is a cherished break from the sameness of the days in the apartment.  We can venture out and back, with no actual human contact. People at the gate, take our temperature and ask questions when we return.We harvested a large bunch of bananas, so now it is a challenge to find ways to use them. I have become a willing cook, and actually enjoy finding new vegetarian and vegan meals to produce, with Judy as the sou-chef.
  It is shocking to try and imagine what the people in New York With are enduring. Judy's 80 year old high school chum lives in Manhattan, got some version of the virus, but has survived without hospitalization. It must be a challenge for preachers in the city to find inspiration for an Easter sermon today, considering the theme of life and death are all around them, not to mention illness and suffering. Will they speak the faith traditional words of comfort (which might be enough to quiet the deepest and unconscious part of us) , or will they offer interpretations of the  glaring forces impinging on all of us? What is there to say in the street vernacular?  I read that hospital chaplains are finding totally new and creative ways to minister to the sick and dying . They are in the trenches, bringing some gracious meaning to the worst of cases. Some of it reminds me of stories of another trench war: World War I. I take my hat off to all those who are giving comfort and support in the situations they find themselves in.
  Our kids and grand-kids are in touch regularly, and all the adults have jobs, plus managing some form of at home schooling. There are always things to be thankful for.