Five years ago, the Church was just entering into another season of Lent. But there were other things going on around us…

News reports about a virus causing concentrated outbreaks of a mysterious illness were on the rise. It was the beginning of what we now colloquially call “COVID” for short: the global (SARS-coV-2) pandemic that has officially claimed more than 7 million lives around the world and impacted countless more with lasting health challenges from a prior infection. “COVID” has become a dividing line for so much that changed in everyday life during the height of that time and since.

I was in Houston, of course, where things were a little slower to shut down than in other places. In that city, we all finally accepted that “Coronavirus” (as first named) was serious on March 11, 2020, when the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo—arguably, the biggest annual event in the city—was cancelled for the first time in 88 years. The day after that announcement, the Bishop of Texas informed priests and parishes that our churches would be going into “quarantine”—staying at home and staying apart—for at least two weeks. We had no idea…

I think it is important to name that COVID milestone of five years, as we enter into another Lent. It is important because many of us continue to contend with grief over who was lost to that illness and what was lost to that upheaval of human society; it is important because we are still re-learning how to find and maintain meaningful connection and mutual support after a transformation that normalized isolation and calcified silos; it is important because new tumult and tribulations are awakening old traumas and compounding new grief upon what is already there.

I was remembering that the word “quarantine” comes from the Middle Ages, when ships were held off port for forty days to attempt to stop the spread of Plague. It was a slow-down period, a time to be still and pay attention. I’m sure it was a difficult time of idleness, discomfort, and even hunger for the ones stuck on board after a long journey; though it was a best attempt in that time at caring for the health for all who were vulnerable.

I have been thinking of Lent this year as a sort of spiritual quarantine. Not as a time of isolation. We have enough of that. But as forty days dedicated to slowing down from frenzy, paying attention to who and what is around me, and seeking to care for one another in deeply supportive ways. What would that look like for us in our daily lives and circles of relationship? I pray that we will each find a gift in this Lenten season, a gift to help us nurture the life within while tending to the people and purposes present to us in daily life.

With you,

The Rev. R. Scott Painter, Rector
Email: ScottP@stmaa.org