Dear Governor Baker: Thank You.

"The first duty of government is the protection of life, not its destruction.  Abandon that, and you have abandoned all."                        

 --Thomas Jefferson, 

attributed

Dear Governor Baker,

Thank you.

That’s the main thing I want to write to you this day.  To say how thankful I am as a citizen of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, for the faithful and steady leadership you’ve provided to those you govern, since the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, that’s now sweeping across the globe like an out of control wildfire.

As an observer and frequent critic of government, I’ll confess it’s very rare for me to be so direct in my praise of an individual politician. I’d rather throw brickbats than offer compliments, truth be told. In 2020 it’s so easy to be cynical about the business of governing, be fed up and frustrated with the folks who serve us, the ones far more interested in re-election or gaining power or scoring points against an opponent or preening for the cameras, than actually doing the work of government.

But I have to say, when I watch you now in your daily press conferences, hear your clear voice, or read about the steps you’ve taken, along with the rest of state government, to protect the folks who call the Bay State home, I feel safe and protected. I surely feel safer than many other citizens in other parts of our nation. I’m still amazed that even as of today there are places in the United States still operating as if this coronavirus outbreak is nothing more than a passing threat to public health, politicians who believe it is not the role of the federal or state government to exercise its powers so forcefully and just shut things down. I’ve spoken to friends in other places who wish you were their governor.

Yes, like lots of my fellow citizens I was kind of freaked out when you finally closed down the state, but that was more out of personal selfishness than any policy disagreement.  Who wants to stay cooped up inside and give up so many of the rights and privileges we expect as citizens? As a pastor, it was the hardest decision I ever had to make with my leaders, to finally close the church I serve, to worship. We are all heartbroken that on Easter Sunday this year, there won’t be a packed sanctuary overflowing with lilies or a sunrise service on the pond at dawn or an Easter egg hunt with so many kids scrambling around the church gardens. We know and have faith that this too shall pass but still, it really hurts.

I can’t imagine being one of the hundreds of thousands of people in our state suffering so much more than me. Artists and hourly workers and waiters and waitresses and gig workers and daycare staff and so many others going without a paycheck, looking to the future with fear and worry. I can’t imagine being a nurse or doctor or first responder and putting my very life on the line every single day—or a grocery store clerk or a home health aide or postal worker either. So many are making such deep sacrifices.        

But like the overwhelming number of Massachusetts residents, almost eighty percent in a March 29^th Boston Globe poll, most folks in these parts approve of your handling of this crisis.  I think you’ve handled this most difficult of challenges with grace and calm and competence, unlike some other high profile politicians, who well, quite frankly have been awful in their leadership.  Offered misinformation.  Shown gross incompetence. Made this crisis more about them than the people.

Not all of your decisions have been perfect. But then, we are all just kind of making it up as we go along now, right? Trying our best. Adapting.  Responding. Taking a deep breath and saying a prayer at the beginning of the day and asking for guidance and wisdom for the next 24 hours.  We are all in this one boat together, sailing across stormy seas, looking for some break of sun on the horizon in the distance.

I will be praying for you, as I do for all of our leaders.  For strength. For times to rest. For your loved ones.  For a day when this will finally be over.

Thank you.

Sincerely,    A grateful citizen

        

The Common Good: Now More Than Ever--WE CAN DO IT!

“Each of us must rededicate ourselves to serving the common good. We are a community. Our individual Fates are linked; our futures intertwined; and if we act in that knowledge and in that spirit together, as the Bible says: ‘We can move mountains.’"   

--President Jimmy Carter

The common good.

This is the hope that when it comes to how we human beings live together in community, there are certain times and certain ways we are called to act collectively, to do that which is right and good, not for self alone, but most important for others: for the community, the collective, the state or the nation or the world.

Given the unprecedented events of the last two weeks, as our world faces head on into the coronavirus pandemic, the most serious public health threat our nation has confronted since the polio outbreaks of the 1950’s and the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918, I’ve been thinking a lot about this ideal of the common good.

This is the idea that sometimes what I desire is less important than what we, together, require. That sometimes, in the words of Spock, a character from the Star Trek universe, “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” That at certain times in history you and I and all of us as Americans: we are called by a greater good to stand as one people, to unite behind a common goal, to meet and defeat a common enemy, in this case, a disease.

Because the truth is this. If in the weeks ahead we all rise up to make the personal sacrifices needed to minimize the effect of the virus upon ourselves and our neighbors, fewer people will die, fewer people will get sick and, though it’s hard to imagine now, there will be a day soon, when we emerge from our social isolation back into full community again.

But if, in the weeks ahead, we downplay the threat of the virus, or we choose to ignore public health safety guidelines, or we ignore the greater good for our narrow individual good, or we hoard or we panic or we buy into fringe conspiracy ideas peddled by whack job commentators and even by some of our leaders, this is what will happen. More people will die, more people will get sick, our health care system will be overwhelmed and might even collapse, and we will devolve into an awful mess and tragedy. Not just for you or I but for all of us.

Here’s what I want and need to believe about us as Americans. That we have it within ourselves to embrace and carry out the common good in these fraught and frightening times.  That we can all be patriots now in the truest sense, fellow citizens doing everything we can to work for the best outcome for the greatest number of people. That in spite of how surreal and weird this feels right now, that even as it develops and ramps up day to day like a national nightmare, we have within our social DNA, the right stuff, to do the right thing and right now.

To do the common good.

Out of curiosity, I typed that phrase “common good” into Google’s Ngram viewer. The viewer taps into a database of more than 20 million digitized books and writings published between 1800 and 2008.  Though not exact in its conclusions, the viewer offers a view into popular word usage at any given point in 208 years of history.

Not surprisingly, peak usage of  the “common good” is 1941, the beginning of America’s entry into World War II, an event that eventually called upon every single American to give, to sacrifice, and to work for the greater good. Like my grandfather who worked a second shift in a Wallingford, Connecticut ball bearing plant, that supplied vital war supplies. Or my Grandmother who planted a Victory Garden. Or my Dad who collected scrap metal for a war drive. Or my Mom who still remembers ration books.

What amazes me about that time in American history is that when the times were darkest, when the war’s outcome was not clear, not at all; when our forebears were challenged by their moment in time to step up and be so much more than they might have imagined they could be—they did it. Yes, there were challenges and failings then too, a less than stellar commitment to the common good. There was war profiteering. Women and minorities were too often exploited for war work and pushed aside at war’s wend. Civil liberties for groups like Japanese Americans were taken away. Yet still, on the whole, America did what it had to do and we are the heirs of that amazing collective effort.         

The common good: the time is now. NOW. We can do it. We must do it. For all of us. For those at risk. For future generations.  

God give us the strength and the courage to do that which must be done, and always, together.

      

This Too Shall Pass: Eternal Wisdom in the Midst of Struggle

“And this, too, shall pass away.”       --Persian wisdom saying

It’s the truth I always seem to forget in the midst of bad times.  The wisdom I inevitably neglect to remember when it feels as if I am up to my eyeballs in trouble.  The fact of human existence I ignore when all I see ahead is darkness or gloom.

This too shall pass.

It’s true about good times and it is true about hard times as well. Life is always moving, changing, morphing, shifting and transforming and so even if I fail to do anything to help in this process, life happens anyways.

This too shall pass.

That’s the comfort I am trying to remind myself of this day, as our nation and world leans into the thick of the coronavirus pandemic. After watching this tidal wave of fear from afar, it is now crashing down into the places we call home in this part of the world. As I write this column, the stock market dropped so fast this morning that trading had to be halted. The number of cases continues to grow and grow and grow as does our panic in response to this illness. 

Closed schools. Cancelled events like huge trade shows and music festivals. A run on basic supplies like masks and hand sanitizer and toilet paper and bottled water and now even food in some places. Planes sit idle on tarmacs as thousands of folks decide to stay put rather than risk traveling. Millions of folks on lock downs: 16 million in Italy and 60 million in China.  But can we remember just this one thing?     

This too shall pass.

One of the things I find most vexing about this current public crisis is that it seems to be as much about our perception of the event as the reality of the event.  We humans are an odd lot when it comes to fearing the unknown. We don’t know how far or how fast or how bad this will turn out.  The overwhelming number of people who have gotten sick get better.  The number of cases in the place where it all started—China—drops each day as that fire now seems to be dying down. 

Yet still, social anxiety rises day by day.  The herd mentality of running for the exits sweeps up so many of us in its energy. Add on to this the misinformation that’s being spread, especially on social media, and just too much information and news through our phones and TVs and computers and radio and you’ve got a perfect storm of worldwide fear.  A virus as much about the emotional as the physical.

This too shall pass.

To trust in this spiritual truth does not mean we are passive in the face of this event.  There is in fact much we can do right now, and it is not merely eschewing shaking hands or coughing in your arm or staying home if you are sick or addictively consuming news .  

We can reach out to those who are afraid or alone or both, and let them know that we are here for them, no matter what the days ahead bring.  We can pray and take the burden we might feel upon our own backs and give it over to a power so much greater than ourselves, greater even than a virus. We can refuse to be caught in catastrophizing or creating all of these worst case scenarios in our heads. We can remain calm and carry on.  We can remember times past when our forbears faced even worse situations and somehow made it through to the other side.

As President Abraham Lincoln once remarked, “’And this, too, shall pass away.’ How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!” 

Here’s a happy truth: spring is coming and summer too. The tiniest of purple crocuses broke through the soil in front of my home last week, a hopeful sight. There will be a day in the weeks ahead when we will look back upon this chapter in our shared human life and remember how hard it was and also, about how, eventually, we made our way through to the other side. 

For this too shall pass. Thank God. 

Take good care of yourself and take good care of others too.