Covidiots

I think I’ve developed something called a near miss syndrome.

I don’t know if it’s a real thing but I read about it in Malcolm Gladwell’s book David and Goliath. He talks about the Blitz and how the Nazis bombed London for 56 days in a row. And he says that in the beginning, everyone was afraid for their life an ran for cover. But after the bombs had fallen for some time, the ones who had survived got the idea that as they had dodged all the bombs so far, they couldn’t possibly get hit, they couldn’t possibly die. And he talks about children playing football on the streets of London while the jet fighters flew overhead.

Things aren’t nearly as dramatic as that but somehow the anxiety just wore off. So much so that I went back to work this week. And as I was walking to the office on Monday morning (fortunately I don’t have to use public transport to get to work) something clicked in my mind and all fear disappeared and life as I’ve always known it returned. So I’m pretty much living a normal life now. Of course, the contacts are few (usually I’m the only one in the office), all the meetings take place in Zoom, and when I do my weekly shopping, everyone in the grocery store looks as if they’re in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death. But other than that, the normal rhythm has returned. I get up earlier again, I hit the office by 9 a.m. and this week I've even got some school work done (only one more book to read and a reading report to write before the school session starts).  

Yesterday was a massive exception to that rule. Because yesterday was a long recording day in our office since they wanted to get all three online church services for this weekend shot in one go. And yes, there was a shooting schedule and the idea was to have as few people in the studio at any given time as possible. But it still somehow happened that in the late afternoon everyone – more than 10 people – was there at the same time. And then someone ordered a mountain of Chinese food and we all turned into, uhmm, Covidiots. Because there was no 2 x 2 meter rule left and we sort of had an impulsive party. Everyone was so happy because we’ve all been deprived of human contact and we’ve missed each other so much. If all 7 pastors who were present… if we are all to get sick now, that would be a scandal, to say the least. It was very reckless of us, of course. But the joy of seeing each other and the short moment of feeling normal again somehow topped the potential danger. And the joy was great. For example, my little brother was there to help out with music (he plays the flute in my dad’s band). I hadn’t seen him for more than a month! And I’m like, there’s something different about him. Of course, he’s hairy, as everyone is these days. But then I suddenly realise he’s walking around with glasses. Now, he’s had the same eye surgery done as I have so he doesn’t need any glasses. But he’s wearing these silly spectacle frames without any glasses in them, and it just made me laugh so hard. And it will make me laugh again when I see him on my computer screen tomorrow morning, playing his flute and wearing fake glasses. Oh, man, this is what I’ve been missing! Real humans, silly humans!

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I preached in the online service last Sabbath. And it will go to my personal history books as a memorable event. 

I preached on Mark 9, „I believe, help my unblief“ story. My central idea was that this odd prayer is the most human prayer of all. Because we all have these conflicting things in our lives: many people can pray to God, „I believe, I don’t believe, help me nevertheless!“, these days we pray, „I am not afraid, I am afraid, help me!“, many married couples stuck in their homes should pray, „I love, I don’t love any more, help me!“ And God takes whatever little faith, love, peace or hope we have left, and works miracles in our lives.

In the space between my mouth and the ears of the listeners a miracle happened, no doubt. God added something to my words in a way that many people were touched. After the service, I received so may messages and emails, I stopped counting at 25. And this is not bragging. The truth be told, my own faith has been renewed and strengthened through this experience. To think that God would still be willing and able to use me for something good during a phase in my life when I’ve thrown a good measure of f-words to His face… That’s the biggest miracle of all. [I will tell you about that phase in my life once it’s over.]

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But now it’s time to return from the memory lane. Easter dessert is waiting to be made, some work emails are waiting to be sent before the Sabbath kicks in. And the yellow tulips on my kitchen table are as bright as the sun.