The Non-Essential List.
For the first time since pilgrims took their lives back and boarded ships in search of religious freedom, church gatherings are now non-essential in the United States.
No one wants to pick up a virus and carry it back to Grandma. Grandparents are essential, as it turns out. Just as long as they keep their distance, preferably on Zoom. This is for their safety, everyone believes. Force them into quarantine so they can keep living. There are so many arguments on both sides. I just don’t think anybody asked Grandma.
Common sense and courtesy also made the Non-Essential List.
So, Rob and I stood in the empty parking lots of several churches Sunday morning and did the most powerful thing we knew to do. The only thing we have any control over. The only thing that can possibly make a difference anymore.
We prayed for the congregations of those churches, those frightened members who are forbidden to congregate in person. Who risk citations and arrest and fines and even jail if they show up to be together and offer encouragement during a very dark time in this country and the world. We prayed that the virus would die and people wouldn’t. We prayed that these congregations would be able to come together again soon because they have an inalienable right to gather in America.
Words like “inalienable” are now on the Non-Essential List. Along with “life.” And “liberty.” And “the pursuit of happiness.”
It’s quite a long list, now that I think about it.
Last night I talked with my sister who lives in Texas where a salon owner who has hungry children and bills did the unthinkable and went to work. A judge sitting high above the courtroom, many times more than a safe distance of six feet away from the hairdresser defendant, told her through his mask that she could either close up shop or go to jail. She chose her children over the judge.
“How’s it going a way out there in Texas?” I asked my sister.
“Oh, you know. Lines and fear and isolation and panic. The new norm.”
We talked for a long time on the phone instead of in person because she lives a safe distance of 900 miles away from me. So far there is no evidence that the virus can be transmitted through cell phones. There is also no evidence that a healthy adult can transmit the coronavirus to an elderly person without the normal connection of being sick himself. I’ve checked. But I digress.
We had a lot to talk about. We talked about how we both feel abandoned right now. My sister also drove to an empty church parking lot to pray that God’s people would soon gather in person again. Before He parts the Red Sea. And makes it clear as mud that He is the One Who is in control of winds and storms and all other dangerous things. She sat in her car while she prayed. A danger to no one and safe from hugs and other risks to her personal well-being, even though the parking lot was empty. And she cried her eyes out, just like I did.
Tears so far have not made the Non-Essential List.
After two hours of sharing notes, it was time to hang up. Conversation lulled. Emotions settled. Hope hung in the balance.
“Is this still America?” I asked her quietly.
There was silence on the other end.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered.
Maybe it was a Non-Essential question.
With thanks to Robert Huffstutter for the use of this non-essential document's photo. The original can be viewed by following the link below:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/huffstutterrobertl/3431670016/in/photolist-6efcWq-p6o7JN-BbFfnv-B9tSUL-B8n2a7-B8o9Yb-B9u6R7-AdCEq5-AdMTXr-BaFqzz-AdMvbV-BaFkk6-Az1wMa-B9tmm1-BbEuwK-AwGHFk-BaEGyR-AwGabw-BaFJMX-AdMUCp-AdMCT8-AwHaQK-B8nCCG-pKQsa7-BaFj6T-BaEQRn-B8ntS5-BbEeza-pKMeYC-B9t8FG-B8ngis-BbEj8i-B9sYr9-p6o9n7-AdMwsH-BbEzza-2hGvG7Q-eSjy1-AdMkjv-q312k2-pKNAkM-p6o9GA-pKNCCn-q15bwC-pKNEjP-pKQrqG-q157k1-q159fd-q157Yq-p6qS9i
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