The world is turned upside down. The contents of our lives dumped out on the floor. We try to pick up where we started off from but more than three months in hiding from the Coronavirus, we don’t know where to begin. What did we use to do again?
All home now, we are all coming home now to realities multiplied about the whos, hows and whys of society.
Is this who we really are? How did we get here? Why are we still here? The questions won’t go away and we who protest aren’t going anywhere.
So we sit with them. Nothing left to do, we entertain them. Pull up a chair, hands on chin, elbows on knees, we lean into listen and to hear more clearly. What is really being said? Did I hear that correctly?
This is the stage we are in now. No distractions, we are taking long hard looks at ourselves, our society, our neighbors, our enemies, our families, our faith and its traditions. All is laid bare while we stock shelves with canned good and toiletries.
We don’t want to run out of anything—except for all of these questions.
Nothing is for certain. Nothing is sure. Economy unsteady, health is threatened through daily interactions, we hold out for meaning and onto faith. We pray, “God make sense of this. God put an end to it.”
But the plague continues and the protests won’t stop. The problems won’t simply go away and we are not going sit this one out. Eight minutes and forty- six seconds, George Floyd was held down. Few distractions, we cannot look away. It’s up close and personal, in our face. Do you see me now? Do you hear us now?
What will the Church say? What will be our theological response to mass suffering and the present and historical abuse of power? Because there is no going back to Sunday mornings as usual. No, Millennials and Generation Z await your faithful response. This is the new normal.