Holy Week -- Joy in the Midst of a Global Pandemic

“Be strong and steadfast; have no fear or dread of them, for it is the Lord, your God, who marches with you; he will never fail you or forsake you.” ~Deuteronomy 31:6

This is a challenging time. I’m torn every day about how I feel about how life has changed over this global pandemic.

I am scared. I have friends who work in the medical field, and they are under insurmountable stress. In Deuteronomy 31, Joshua is chosen to take Moses’ place because he is willing to risk his life to do what is right.

There are doctors and nurses who are risking their own lives as they save others. I am so thankful for them – and those words sound so insignificant in light of the great battle they are fighting for us.

And we are scared -- collectively.

With so much uncertainty, it is hard to have hope, but this scripture gives me hope. God marches with us – in this battle, God is marching with us – marching with those on the frontlines, and marching with those who are staying home, and marching with those who are working to heal.

God will never fail or forsake you.

How much joy is there in that! Kathryn Whitaker writes in her book _Live Big, Love Bigger_, that Stephen Colbert has a note affixed to his computer with the phrase: Joy is the most infallible sign of the existence of God.

Can we find joy in the midst of a global pandemic?

We can.

Last Sunday was Palm Sunday. We watched a live-stream Mass on our television. It was strange. But it was also familiar. The familiar Gospel reading, the alignment of our cross to Christ’s, the recognition of the greatest act of love… it was so many emotions wrapped into one.

There is so much uncertainty right now. There is sorrow for the loss of life. There are friends dealing with real crises. There are healthcare workers who are mentally drained and tirelessly working to save lives. There is mourning for normalcy. But there are also moments of deep joy.

In the midst of COVID-19, there still is joy. It is in birthdays celebrated, moments shared with family, facebook posts that keep us connected even while distant, texts that make us smile, and phone calls that encourage us. There are chalked sidewalks and bike rides and nature walks. And there is hope in the empty tomb.

While my family and I walk this Holy Week, we will experience joy, fear, agony, grief, and hope – all in one week. And, in this, Christ gives us permission to feel all of those emotions at the same time. For even when there are darkest hours … there also are moments of light.

In the midst of the juxtaposed emotions, my girls and I snuck over the chalk my parents' driveway. We miss them so much, but we tried to brighten their day a bit before the rain. Joy ... in the midst of a pandemic.