A Coronavirus PSA

Image Credit: Grateful Rebekah 

Quote credit: Simcha Fisher

Consider this a friendly but firm PSA, but please start taking the coronavirus and its implications seriously. As Americans, we love our freedom. Yet, as Christians, we know that freedom (free will) can lead to stupid decisions.

My husband is a doctor. A few weeks ago he was telling me how serious the coronavirus was and how he feared we (as in our nation) wasn’t taking it seriously enough. My husband has a knack for being wise and prudent without coming off as a jerk or like he’s fear-mongering. Maybe that’s why I listened to him and then lovingly rolled my eyes even as he predicted what is happening before all of our eyes weeks ago because he suspected people wouldn’t see the coronavirus as a very real public health threat or consider the potential stress an outbreak of this scale could cause the health care system. I’m not eye-rolling any longer. Thankfully, he’s not the kind of person to ever say, “I told you so.”

Every time I pop onto social media I end up flushing with anger or anxiety. I see people still claiming we are all overreacting. Here’s the thing about overreaction: We probably should have “overreacted” weeks ago (as my husband was saying we should), but then, of course, people might have said, “Look! I told you we overreacted! Nothing bad happened.” But when nothing terrible comes to fruition, that means the overreacting probably worked. Let’s all overreact now so we can say later that we did overreact.

I see flippant posts of people ignoring – or even criticizing – the “social distancing” recommendation. Again, my husband said weeks ago we don’t really understand how this virus is spreading so rapidly and that it could very well be shedding off asymptomatic people. Researchers are now confirming this.  (See here and here.) Yet, people – even those who have traveled to extremely at-risk parts of our countries – are saying, “I’m feeling fine! Let’s get together and hang out!”

I’ve had my own children’s activities canceled, only to have a parent text and say, “Hey, let’s organize our own fun and get together more while school’s out!”

I’m actually still seeing people insist this pandemic is just like the seasonal flu when, in fact, infectious disease experts are predicting the coronavirus death toll to be six times the seasonal flu (they’re also predicting it will be far worse than the swine flu; let’s hope that’s not the case, but I wish people would stop comparing the two very different viruses); there is currently no vaccine for the coronavirus; there’s potential for the virus to mutate and get worse and thus affect a more diverse range of people; and even healthy, young people are getting very sick and ending up in the hospital.

Many people are failing to consider seeing the big picture. They seem hyper-focused on the fact that the virus is “only” dangerous to the elderly and/or those with compromised immune systems. This bothers me standing on its own. As Christians and just decent human beings, are we not called to recognize the dignity of everyone and to protect the most vulnerable no matter their age?

Imagine if children were the most at-risk and were dying every day. Would you take this more seriously then? Now take a step back and try to let that bigger picture I mentioned above come into sharp focus. Imagine your local ER is so overextended and the hospital’s ICU is at its capacity because of an onslaught of critically-ill patients with coronavirus and because many healthcare providers are now getting sick as well and so the hospital is short-staffed so when your child (or another otherwise “healthy” loved one) does have an emergency, she is triaged and then told she has to wait and may not be able to be helped.

Another argument for social distancing and staying at home rather than being on the roads is there’s less of a chance for accidents and people requiring medical care. The Surgeon General and CDC are recommending elective surgery and routine testing like mammography to be postponed. Consider that. This isn’t just about the “few” people coronavirus will infect. It’s about you and your family’s access to health care if you should really need it.

I think of my dad, who had unplanned and emergent double bypass heart surgery this week. In our town, we only have two surgeons who perform open heart surgery. What if they both became sick? What would have happened to my dad? Shortly after the surgery, we were allowed to lay our eyes on my beloved dad, the one who had always been a protector to my family. The nurses said he looked particularly good – not pasty or pallid in the least. Yet, he still looked at his most vulnerable to me, at the mercy of others’ care and surrounded by a maze of medical tubes. He always provided for our family and protected me as a child. Now it’s my time to return the favor. He’s doing well, but he’s still in the hospital. I long for him to be back home away from the germs and the churning what-ifs. Picture my own dad, if you must, when you’re trying to decide if you should bring your stir-crazy kids out to an indoor trampoline park. Don’t. Just please don’t.

I’ve also witnessed harsh judgment or empty platitudes in response to caring, faithful Catholics who have urged others to see this as far worse than the flu or have suggested that staying home even from Mass is the charitable, prudent thing to do. “We need more Mass, not less!” I’ve seen people comment on social media. I understand their sentiments. We certainly need a union with God now, but that union might have to look a little different in these unprecedented times. Our bishop has not canceled Mass, but he has given all Catholics in our archdiocese dispensation. I’m not taking my family to Mass this weekend. I didn’t take this decision lightly. I’m staying home for the safety of the many healthcare workers in our area who must keep healthy to provide care to more people than ever during these uncertain times. I’m staying home for the safety of vulnerable people. Yes, as Catholics we are obliged to participate in the Eucharist on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation unless we are excused for a serious reason. A very real public health threat is a serious reason. We may not be ill, but we are doing our part to protect others from becoming ill. (Also, be at peace: Mass is never canceled. Priests all across the world are still celebrating Mass. We just may not be able to fully participate right now.)

As Simcha Fisher bravely stated on Instagram, “It’s clear to me that most people probably ought to stay home, whether Mass is cancelled or not and *that* is a matter of humility, not to mention charity and prudence…”

People will argue that we must have faith, not fear. I agree. But we must couple our faith with prudence and not stupidity. At this time, we cannot falsely view ourselves the same as Christian martyrs who would rather die than be denied the Eucharist. Instead, we must see ourselves as people who must deny ourselves the Eucharist so that others might not get sick and/or die.

I want nothing more than the comfort of my Church and Her beautiful sacraments during this time of uncertainty. But this isn’t about me right now. It’s not about you either, your virtue signaling, your desire to look holy and brave, or even your very real hunger for the Eucharist. It’s is a great act of charity and humility to stay home and to pray for a spiritual union.

We did not choose our Lent this year. It chose us, and perhaps we must all surrender to our own suffering — a willingness to wait without the Eucharist — a carrying of the Cross.

God is for us and with us – perhaps not in a word or a host right now – but in a touch, in His presence in our home and in our hearts. Talk to him. Pray the rosary. Read the Bible. Pray for a spiritual union. Offer up your desperateness to be at Mass for all those personally impacted by the coronavirus.

 I’ve always been a fan St. John Paul II’s “Be not afraid” mantra. We need this more than ever. Yes, be not be afraid. “Open wide the doors for Christ,” but these doors, for now, might have to simply be the doors of your heart within the walls of home. This doesn’t make you a bad Catholic who is lacking in faith. It makes you a humble, prudent, and charitable one. We are called to protect the most vulnerable, to help those who cannot help themselves; staying away from the Divine Food and the Body of Christ we hunger for so desperately right now is a way to do just that. The Church’s mission hasn’t changed; it’s just going to look a little different for a while.

Yes, St. John Paul II said, “Do not be afraid. Christ knows what is in man. He alone knows it.” His plan is greater than our own, but this wisdom cannot be misinterpreted as permission or a directive to ignore what the experts are urging us to do or to criticize our bishops for making some very difficult, unprecedented decisions.

We must always put our trust in God, but that doesn’t mean we sit around and do nothing, ignore public health officials, think that we know better, or our faith is stronger, purer. If a tornado was tearing through your town, would you not seek shelter in your basement or another safe space? Would you, in the face, of a tumultuous storm, run outside, and bellow to the heavens, “My faith is in my God. I don’t need protection.” Jesus will calm the storm, but we don’t know how or when that happen.

I’m not trying scare anyone or come off as fear-mongering. I’m simply trying to encourage people to pray, hope, trust, AND to take this seriously.

Also, if I may, why not take this time of social distancing and quarantine to relish in the unplanned family time together, to embrace the simple pleasures of life? Yesterday my daughters set up an elaborate at-home spa and treated me to a relaxing facial while my feet soaked in warm water infused with bath salts. Last night I read Jesus and I to my son (something I’ve been meaning to do but have failed to make happen – totally my bad) since he is preparing for his First Communion. The kids ventured outside to shoot baskets together. I went on a run with one of my children. I wrote a long “get well” letter to my father. I’m trying to see this as an idyll, a break from our typical hurried pace and an opportunity to focus on what is truly important.

I realize my words here are laser-beam focused on the many people who appear to be taking a lackadaisical approach or confusing a strong faith with blindness to our current reality, but I also want to offer comfort to all of you who are feeling anxious in the wake of these unprecedented times, who feel stifled and uncomfortable being confined to your home without the familiar rhythm of your normal, daily routine. I want to reassure you: The sun will rise tomorrow. It’s going to be okay even if it feels like it’s not. The worst thing that ever could happen already did. God died. But He rose again. He has given us so much hope and beauty in this broken and sometimes-scary world.

I’m not going to say my own family isn’t bracing ourselves for weeks at home and preparing for long-term social distancing because we are. I’m not going to say my chest doesn’t sometimes tighten when I start to conjure up possible future scenarios, when I worry about my dad, when I think of my relatives living in Italy… Yet, I also refuse to let worry consume me and force me into a dark hole for which there is no escape. Don’t obsessively refresh your Google search on the coronavirus. Take regular breaks and deep breaths. Pray over Psalm 46:10 slowly and often, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Laugh together. My dad was cracking jokes immediately when he woke up from his surgery. I, in turn, made him laugh, and he grimaced, “Stop! It hurts to laugh!” My kids and I have been enjoying regular laugh intervals.

When the “what-ifs” start to encroach and threaten to swallow up your hope, ask yourself am I going to judge God by the circumstances and the future I don’t understand right now? Or will I instead judge these circumstances in light of the character of God? Now is a time to deepen our relationship with God and to cultivate a confidence and dependence on Him that He is with us in our anxiety even when and if we don’t see any evidence of His presence and His power, even when we cannot meet Him at His Eucharistic table.

Above all, have faith. Faith is not about believing that nothing bad will ever happen. No, the world tells us bad things happen all the time – it’s screaming that fact to all of us right about now – but what faith whispers to believers it that when it does, God will be with us.