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April 8, 2020

42 of 47

And God says:

“Take a bunch of hyssop, dip it in the blood that is in the basin, and apply some of the blood that is in the basin to the lintel and to the two doorposts. None of you shall go outside the door of his house until morning.”

It is facile to find metaphors. They are very often specious, even inept. But irony is undeniable. This is Holy Week and a week of Holy Days. In New England it is simply less common for most lives here to fully celebrate Easter or Passover. It is so easy to secularize either into either a gluttonous engorgement of candy or a family reunion.

Houses will have but a few in each of them this Holy Week, and all of them want a modern Passover. But instead of God passing over our houses, we are in them, praying (whether to God or Dr. Fauci) that each place is passed over by the unseen, silent, evil of COVID19.

But in every scenario we are completely without control.

A lack of believing in controlling our fate is, somehow, unusual for us. We think that if we do “X” that “Y” is transacted. So we wear face masks, use hand wipes, sanitizer even impose guilt and condemnation to secure the result of survival. The irony is that we do these things because we really do not have control where it matters most to us.

We do not want to die. We do not want to kill others. We could devoutly follow Dr. Fauci, and this could all still happen. To us. Because even he does not have control, either.

In all of this, and before it, and after, we simply forget the insane, literally unfathomable complexity of what we fear will die. Somehow there is a logically entitled justification of obvious truth that is self-evident in life.

In each of us billions of cells, with trillions of parts in millions of instant operations happen every second that we are not dead. Without a manual. Without enough understanding that the Corona Virus is rendered meaningless. If we could, we would control death to immortality, but we simply do not control that we which cannot understand.

A few thousand years ago, the Jews could not control Pharaoh, either.

As it turns out, in Passover, God did that.

2,000 years ago, a small band of humans, mostly Jews, could not control Rome. As it turns out, God did that, too. At least for we who see no other reason that realities lost millennia ago are as alive as a sunrise and the love that is in each of us, this instant.

We pray, now worldwide, that the thing that we cannot control does not control us. It does not much occur to us that the desired outcome, life, is what is at the core of the Holy reality of this week. Just about everyone knows that Death is Evil, and we feel that Evil pretty starkly this COVID19 season. Everyone just wants this wave of Evil to pass over us, and not come into our shuttered homes.

The anger and fear so righteously screamed on so many screens from every side of the human condition is with each of us every day. I think Love is, too. Emily Dickinson knew that 150 years ago:

“The Blunder is in estimate.

Eternity is there

We say, as of a Station —

Meanwhile he is so near


He joins me in my Ramble —

Divides abode with me —

No Friend have I that so persists

As this Eternity.”

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