Fears and prayers

Easter Season 2020

Day 2: Monday, April 13, 2020

As I raced down the crowded aisle, I saw a couple who seemed to be racing towards the same gate as I, and behind me I heard at least one other set of pounding feet. Yes, all of us were late, held up at the luggage counter, but the plane wasn’t to leave for another 15 minutes, so we really shouldn’t have to race as we were. As the four of us skidded to a stop at the counter, not only could we see the announcement on the board “Gate Closed” but we could also hear four other erstwhile passengers in front of us arguing with the airline personnel. “Sorry,” we heard, “but it’s a new policy put into place since the terrorist attacks. Gates have to be closed 15 minutes before departure.”

Just a month after the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center Towers and the Pentagon and the failed attack that ended in Pennsylvania, I was at Chicago Midway Airport to fly to Pittsburgh to see my nephew and his family for my extended fall break. No one had warned us travelers that the rules had changed, so, there we were, eight passengers who were stranded at the airport with nowhere to go. Fortunately, the airlines took care of us, giving us food vouchers and hotel rooms for the night and promising us tickets on the first flight out the following morning—as long as we arrived in plenty of time to navigate crowds at luggage counter and gates.

I had purchased a non-transferable, non-refundable ticket; I had either to use the ticket or to lose the money. Although uneasy about getting on a plane, I decided to risk it. The attacks were so recent that no one was sure whether any plane travel was safe. Many people showed their fears by looking askance at anyone who appeared to have Arabic blood, let alone anyone who wore a turban or a head covering. Brown-skinned people were given wide berth; no one wanted to sit next to anyone who didn’t look exactly like themselves. In other words, fears were rampant and irrational.

And now I am living in a time where fears are rampant again. Whether they are irrational, I do not know. With such disparate reports coming from many different news agencies and public officials, the public cannot ascertain the truth about COVID-19: how contagious is it? How many people have had and are immune? When did it really reach the US and how? Are the healthcare providers out of PPE? Are the staying-at-home orders working? Do they need to continue? Do the experts think that the economy can re-open May 1? All these unknowns are very fearful for all of us.

For myself, I am much more fearful now than I was after 9/11. Of course, I am almost 20 years older than I was then. Being older could make me either more or less risk-averse. I’m not sure my age has anything to do with my fear. I fear more because the virus, as far as we know, is ubiquitous. We cannot escape it if we begin to interact with other people. It was horrible that people allowed their prejudices to stoke their fears of certain kinds of people in the aftermath of  the terrorist attacks. It is more horrible that we may have to fear everyone that we have contact with—anyone could be the culprit of passing the virus on to another human being. I could be the one passing on the virus to someone else, totally unaware that I am carrying it with me.

Following 2001, our country and others began to make changes to our security, not just in airports, but in many public venues. We have acclimated to security lines, bag checks, electronic scans. We may complain, but we take for granted that we have to remove shoes, jackets, belts, and personal electronic devices to go through those security lines. The complaints let us feel better about the fact that we know we had to lose some freedom to feel safe.

This time, our fears may not be so easy to assuage. How close will be able to stand or sit next to someone else? Will we always have to take our personal wipes with us to wipe every hard surface that we might touch? Will masks and gloves become as ubiquitous as the virus? Will we ever feel safe to hug our family members and friends? Will the almost universal greeting of the handshake become unknown to future generations?

In the short story “The Minister’s Black Veil,” Nathaniel Hawthorne tells the story of a minister who chooses to wear a black veil to cover his face. He never explains to anyone why he has chosen this habit, but it negatively affects all of his relationships. Wherever he goes, the mood becomes somber. If he walks into a wedding celebration, it immediately resembles a funeral. Through the years, the minister never removes the veil. It proves to separate him from his fellowmen; even his own wife and children fear his presence.

Obviously, if any of us wear a “veil” (i.e., a mask or gloves), we are doing it to keep others and ourselves healthy. Still, the distancing that we are experiencing will take its toll on our mental health. Humans are relational beings; we crave contact with others. Sooner or later, our virtual lives will not be enough. We will have to have personal connections once again.

Let’s pray that we can trust our leaders, experts, and officials to make good decisions about re-opening our country to normal everyday life. Let’s pray for a swift answer to the need for a vaccine and therapeutic meds. Most of all, let us pray for God’s mercy on all of us—wherever we happen to be on this planet.