By Paul Graham
It was two years and a lifetime ago today that the first lockdown of COVID-19 was announced by Boris Johnson[1], schools moved lessons online, people started counting toilet rolls, and facemasks rapidly became part of everyday wear. At the time, I remember conversations that sounded scarily akin to the early days of the world wars of the twentieth century; “It’ll be over by Easter.” How little we knew…
And yet, two years later we have seen so much change that will now become part of our future lives that the quest to return to the “normal” of 2019 is nothing more than a pipedream. Hand sanitiser, the afore-mentioned face masks and social distancing are probably wise precautions to tackle the annual winter flu season. We might see a continuation of the reduction in illnesses and deaths caused by winter flu, a small positive that lockdowns, isolation and a lack of movement gave us over these past two winters.
But we might also want to take into the future the growing sense of neighbourliness that the pandemic gave to us. As tragic as the deaths, the isolation, and the loss of opportunities to share in the fulness of life that COVID caused, there was an outpouring of love, community support and service that brought people together in ways that probably surprised all who took part. The COVID Community Support Group in Clare, with over a hundred volunteers supporting an almost equal number of their neighbours, showed that the human capacity for compassion hadn’t been reduced.
And we see that today, in the many responses to the ongoing crisis in Ukraine. The vast amounts donated to charitable causes, the number of lorries stuffed to their limits with much-needed essentials and the number of people across Europe opening their homes to refugees, tells its own story of our drive to love. And in Ukraine, there are stories of the most challenging demonstration of love, with families supporting Russian soldiers even in the midst of the chaos caused by their bombs.[2]
Thinking back to those strange days in March 2020, I’m reminded of those naïve thoughts about how long the pandemic would last. That phrase, “It’ll be over by Easter” must also have found its echoes in the Kremlin as the Russian forces were sent in on the understanding that it would be a short incursion. However, this brief tussle for local control has changed the world’s view of a whole nation, and not for the better in most cases. For those emerging now after two long years of the pandemic (and with cases on the rise again, we’re not out of the woods yet), we’ve seen much of our world changed.
On that first Good Friday, the Roman authorities and the Jewish religious elite must have thought they had seen the brutal end of a short interlude by yet another person claiming to be the long-awaited Messiah. Instead, we see not the end of a brief story, but the beginning of a world-changing, life-shaping movement. At Easter, we celebrate life that brings hope in the depths of despair, love in the midst of hate, and grace that sees enemies as neighbours, strangers as friends, and God’s Spirit moving the most ordinary people to do the most extraordinary things in the name of compassion.
My hope is that one day we’ll learn that we don’t need a pandemic or a war to be good neighbours, but until that day, may we continue to meet each challenge with hope, love, grace and mercy. Just as God meets us.
[1] https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/pm-address-to-the-nation-on-coronavirus-23-march-2020
[2] “Tearful Russian soldier surrenders to Ukrainians who feed him and ring his mum” from The Metro 3rd March 2022: https://metro.co.uk/2022/03/03/ukraine-war-russian-soldier-surrenders-to-ukrainians-who-feed-him-and-ring-his-mum-16207575/
(Photo by Gleren Meneghin on Unsplash)
