Like everyone else, I find myself getting a little antsy about this whole social distancing/sheltering-in-place lifestyle. My dogs are confused about all the time I’m spending at home. They look at me like, “Don’t you have someplace to go?”
Someone asked me the other day if I “miss church?” Of course I miss church! I am so ready to be back together with my friends and family in faith! But, I also know that it has to be at the right time and in the right way — despite the inconveniences of all the restrictions we are being asked to embrace. Which brings me to what I really want to share.
My experience the last few weeks has been that just when I’m feeling a little sorry for myself, something comes along to jolt me to reality. This pandemic is serious business, not just an inconvenience.
Case in point: I became aware recently that one of my church members, a trauma nurse by trade, has been working for several weeks at a hospital in New York City.
I will pause a moment to let that soak in … yeah, that New York City.
I could share all kinds of comments about his service, but I think it best to let him speak for himself. What follows comes from a blog on David Kyrie’s Facebook page:
“I am currently working in NYC as part of the relief effort. COVID-19 is not fake. I’ve been told that a local hospital took their 20-bed ICU and turned it into a 120 bed ICU instead. If you have ever spent time in an ICU, you know that is horrifying.
“The citizens of NYC have labeled all healthcare workers heroes. At 7 p.m. every day they make a ruckus — they hit cowbells, they scream at the top of their lungs, they lean out of windows to shout “thank you” to the people that are still working in the overloaded health system, and while I usually shy away from being recognized, I open the window or try to walk outside for a moment so I can hear the cacophony because it stirs my heart and brings tears to my eyes.
“There’s a billboard that shows a picture of a healthcare worker after weeks of working in the hospital. It announces that the abraded skin on the bridge of the nose and the deep marring of the cheeks where the masks cut into the face are beautiful. They are beautiful. Everyone who is working in a hospital right now is suffering hardships of this nature.
“My coworkers and I got a day off and we spent it dealing with our stress and hardships in our own way. We ran. We ran together (socially distanced) and we celebrated that we were in NYC, ‘the greatest city in the world.’ We ran, and reminded ourselves of the history of our country and the beauty and sacrifice that has made this nation livable.
“We ran out to meet Lady Liberty (OK, to the pier where we could see her) and volunteered to be human crutches for the city and the nation to limp along. She’s injured. She’s not herself. She’s damaged, but she’s beautiful and we love her.
We goofed off. We pulled together. We took a few silly pictures, and then we stepped apart and put our masks back on again as we prepared to start over again the next day since we have to soldier on through hours of heartache, frustration, confusion, and what I can only have faith will be an impending Victory over Virus.”
We are so indebted to the work of scores of selfless servants, like David, who are putting themselves at risk to fight this invisible foe.
During Holy Week this year we joined with dozens of churches that rang their bells or turned on their carillons at 7 p.m. every day to honor our Lord and proclaim our faith.
I would like to suggest that maybe we join with our fellow citizens in New York City as churches — and individuals — to “make a ruckus” every night at 7 to say “thank you” to those people who are still on the front lines of the healthcare battle.
Who knows, maybe we can get loud enough they will hear us in NYC?
The Rev. Frank Everett is pastor of Greenfield Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). This weekly column is written by local clergy members. Send comments to [email protected].
