Statistics and Exile

Some say, “The numbers never lie.” others say, “Statistics can prove anything.” No matter how you look at the numbers, the increasing rate of infection from the corona virus in Ontario is staggering. Today the report is of 4,812 new cases. Admission to hospitals has climbed to 1,955 and those being treated for covid-realted cases in Intensive care units is at 701 with over 440 on ventilators. These are all-time highs in our province since the pandemic began. The government is scrambling to figure out what to do and they seem to be lurching from one idea to another. People are frustrated and anxiety is through the roof. Small town’s like ours, which have been relatively unscathed, are seeing infections pop up.

This week France marked the heart-breaking record of 100,000 deaths due to Covid. There seems to be no end to the bad news and the increase in illness as variants stalk the globe. I am a small pebble in a small pond – no make that a puddle and I am stymied as to how to support people who are feeling the anxiety and terror that comes with the increasing numbers. As a minister I am trying to support and encourage people through this time. I fully recognize that the counterpoint to the fear is people’s acute loneliness and the longing for community and for familiar touchstones. We are social beings and being with others is what is normal for people. Yes, emails, and phone calls and zooms and even old fashioned letters are all most helpful but it is not the same as being together, sharing a cup of tea, having a hug, holding a hand. And yet, and yet – I find I don’t want anyone to touch me – I am afraid of what might happen if I come to close to someone who might have this mysterious, threatening and constantly changing virus. I stand back from people. I don’t want anyone too close to me. Even when I know there is no danger of infection there is just that underlying fear that has crept into life.

Turning to scripture and prayer and writing has always been a solace to me. But I am finding it hard to find the words of strength to face this pandemic. The closest I can think of is the time of exile. Psalm 137 tells that story in song, “By the rivers of Babylon, we sat down and wept. We hung our harps on the willows as we remembered Zion. How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” How shall we sing, indeed? Perhaps what we need to do is recognize that right now we are in exile and agree that singing is replaced with weeping and all that is familiar is lost to us for now. But as God’s people we know that exile ends and as much as exile is part of our faith story so is homecoming. In this season after Easter we remember that crucifixion is also part of our story but resurrection is the final word.