I
don’t know about you, but I have been surprised at how I’ve been feeling
lately. Normally if a man I didn’t know were to call me ‘Darlin’, my hackles would
rise, but when the man from the removals company called me ‘darlin’’ on the
phone the other day my eyes welled with tears. He ended the conversation by
asking me to stay safe and it felt genuine, like he really meant it, like my
life mattered to him.
I’ve
been reading Richard Rohr’s The Universal Christ. It has reminded me of
how I viewed other human beings after my baptism at 18 years of age, way back
in 1983. I used to view everyone in those heady days, as belonging to God,
whether they were aware of it or not: God living in them and them living in
God. I understood my calling was to honour and love people as if they were God
himself and to awaken them to his presence if they were unawares. With the
arrival of a pandemic I’m experiencing a renewal of my first-love-perspective –
a sense of collective unity and deep affection for others.
When
I wrote Love Letter, the last in the Babe’s Bible trilogy, I
immersed myself in the history of the destruction of Jerusalem. What struck me
most forcibly about that period of history was the lack of respect for human
life that was displayed by all. It was appalling and very disturbing to read.
Even now it seems to me that the wound that was inflicted on that geographic
location in that period of history has never really healed, but been picked at
again and again like a festering wound.
With
that in mind, shift your bird’s eye view down on to the geographical map of the
UK. Not the Roman Empire, but a microscopic virus is invading and conquering
our country, bringing devastation and desolation in its wake, possibly changing
our lives forever. How will historians write about this period of our history?
Will we go down only as those who fought over toilet roll in supermarkets and
emptied shelves of provisions with no thought of our neighbours? Or has the
greatest commandment – to love one another as you love yourself – had an impact
on humanity? Have we matured since 70AD?
I
hope so.
It
may sound daft, but I was genuinely surprised and encouraged by the feeling I
had of being valued by that removals man on the phone. And this experience has
been repeated many times over in the last few weeks with friends, family and
with kind strangers.
A
Jewish friend of mine had a dream a few months ago of us both laughing
together. My initial thought was, ‘Wouldn’t that be wonderful! It would be a
sign that maybe the hard times were over, and we are happily free from hardship
and difficulty.’ But as the COVID-19 crisis has deepened she has been sending
me funny clips on WhatsApp to distract and uplift me. The other day we were
really belly laughing over a particular clip, and it struck me that perhaps her
dream had been a premonition of this: not laughter due to the tough times being
over, but in spite of them. Here we are right in the middle of difficulty and
hardship and we’re loving each other and laughing till we cry.
I
hope that the wound of COVID-19 on our national psyche will eventually heal.
It’s an invader that we will overcome because God is with us. It will only
become an infected scab if we turn against each other, biting and devouring one
another. That’s the kind of wound that festers for centuries. I hope this time
in our history is remembered for the unity and humour we shared and the deep affection
with which we held one another.
***
Each
day, we will post a short article by one of Darton, Longman and Todd’s amazing
authors, offering a personal reflection on our current situation in life.
Sometimes this will be written with reference to one of their books, and sometimes
about how they are living in response to the coronavirus and our current world
situation. We hope it will give you a taste of the depth and diversity of DLT’s
list – books for heart, mind and soul that aim to meet the needs and interests
of all.
Today’s
post is by Karen Jones, author of the Babe’s Bible fiction trilogy: Gorgeous
Grace, Sister
Acts and Love Letter.
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