The Virus Chronicles (continued)

The following piece is a column written by my wife, Rabbi Rose Lyn Jacob, for the Culpeper, Virginia Star-Exponent's 1 April Edition

PASSOVER, EASTER, RAMADAN in the Time of Covid-19

It is going to be hard, very hard, to observe the important holidays of the season this year. All three holidays have codified observances, rituals and obligations held sacrosanct by their adherents. Those customs, rituals and family traditions bind us, comfort us, and are a framework for our beliefs. And so, as churches, synagogues and Islamic centers close their doors to slow the spread of the virus, we are left to find creative and meaningful ways to connect with our faith.

What unifies these springtime holidays is that each one reaffirms “membership in the tribe.” Jewish family and friends eat a communal meal, called the Seder, while recounting their “origin story,” the highly ritualized retelling of the story of harsh servitude by the Children of Israel under Pharaoh, and how Moses went before Pharaoh repeatedly to ask that the Israelites be let go to serve their god. It took ten plagues sent by God to convince Pharaoh to “let my people go.” Eventually, God, “with signs and wonders and with an outstretched arm” redeemed His people, split the sea, and, under guidance from Moses left in a hurry for the Promised Land. I have heard so many people bummed out because they can’t be with friends and family for Passover. Many plan to attend “virtually,” being together, but separately, each with a plate of ritual foods and a song sheet in front of their computer screen.

Christians also reaffirm “membership in the tribe,” coming together at Easter to commemorate the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus. The key ritual of the worship service is the Eucharist, or Communion. Partaking of consecrated bread and wine enhances the communion of believers not only with Christ, but also with one another. For some the bread and wine are symbolic. For others, the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ. While most are resigned to watching their clergy perform the ritual “on-line” I have heard plenty of people complain that they will truly miss the magical feeling they get when receiving communion.

For Muslims, Ramadan, the ninth month of the Muslim year, is a month of prayer, reflection and community, as well as a commemoration of Muhammad’s first revelation. A dawn until sunset fast is observed, and is followed nightly by a festive, communal break-the-fast meal.

All three festivals focus on community and belonging and require a physical presence . All three holidays will take place in April, as Covid-19 cases grow at an exponential rate and deaths are predicted to be in the thousands. At a moment when we crave closeness, we are not quite sure how to proceed without becoming more depressed than we currently are. Technology can only go so far in uniting us. Televised services, emailed sermons and teachings, virtual Communion and on-line workshops about how to conduct a Passover Seder without guests offer some comfort, if only to remind us that we are not alone in our misery.

Sadly, there are some churches which have tossed social responsibility to the wind, and continue to hold services, causing me to wonder if the leaders of these churches are so selfish, self-serving, so egotistical that they put their need for self-aggrandizement and money in the collection plate above the safety and health of their congregants. My heart breaks when I hear interviews with deeply devout people of unquestioning faith determined to put that faith to the test. The greatest way these pastors can serve their flock is to extend love, comfort, and caring while assuring their followers that they have not been abandoned by God or their faith community. What we need is to support each other in other ways, making sure that we act in Godly ways by reaching out to those who have lost their livelihood, ensuring that they have food, shelter, medical care, and a virtual shoulder to lean on.

The corona virus pandemic challenges our faith in God. As each day passes, we are more aware of the fragility of life and we become more thankful for simple things we’d never noticed before. We can only ask so much of God, and try to shoulder some of the burden ourselves. We can ask God to protect us, but that is made easier while wearing masks, goggles and gloves. We can ask God to take us under his sheltering wing, but it is safer to do so while standing six feet apart. We can believe in an all -powerful God, who will save us, but it helps if we can get our government to increase the production of ventilators, because without those ventilators, doctors will be forced to play God, and decide who lives and who dies. We can ask for a miracle, or we can make sure everyone in our household washes their hands in warm water and soap to break down the fatty layer on the virus and kill it. We can scan copies of the Book of Job, and Why Bad Things Happen to Good People and try to figure why the universe is conspiring against us, or we can look at the science behind what is happening and use that knowledge to assure ourselves we are not being punished, nor tested, by any deity.

The next few months will be a whirlwind of chaos, as one after another, our weaknesses are exposed. Our lives will be increasingly difficult, and we have no idea what the world will be like when a vaccine arrives and the pandemic is beaten down. As a nation we have great sadness ahead of us, great economic and social turmoil. To weather the storm, we can turn to God for comfort through meditation and prayer. We can act as God’s agents by finding ways to volunteer, to donate, or just be a comforting and reassuring voice on the phone. And amazing as it may sound, there won’t be a family in America left untouched by this moment in history.