This morning as I was reading the news my eyes paused over the headline that as of today the government is declaring the Covid public health emergency over. The story in the New York Times talked about the range of emotions that brings, especially for the families of people who have died of Covid. How the pandemic has impacted some people so much more than it has others.

And my next question: so just what does it mean for this to be declared over?

On Wednesday I took a walk downtown at lunch time. Something I haven’t done much at all these past three years. The Wednesday farmer’s market was back—albeit with about a third of the stalls unoccupied. But what a blessing it was to see asparagus available once again direct from the people who grew it. I found myself walking where I used to walk all the time, noting businesses closed, those still open. An occasional new place open. It was a journey of discovery and rediscovery. And I found myself asking just what will it feel like to take a walk downtown three years from now? Lots and lots of questions. Hardly any clear answers.

And so it is for us as individuals and as a congregation as we continue on this journey. We have been using the language of the emerging church and indeed every Sunday I have a new sense of what that emerging looks like. Every week there are new people and people who are returning. But I also know that there are others whose lives have gone in other directions. This year’s budget process has been a time to recognize the need for the church to live within its means. All of this is still very much a work in progress.

And maybe that’s why the news of that the pandemic is officially over caused me to pause. Calling it over just doesn’t capture all the layers involved.

And what for each of us? Is life back to normal? Or anything but? I expect for most of us it is probably somewhere in between. We are aware of people who are gone and patterns that have not returned. And hopefully we are also aware of some things that are new. Perhaps that language of emerging is still right. The spiritual task, I think, continues to ask us to pay attention and to notice. To greet each day with an open heart and to ask what life is asking of us in this moment.

Here are some words from William Stafford that seem right for this day.

Living on the Plains

That winter when this thought came — how the river
held still every midnight and flowed
backward a minute — we studied algebra
late in our room fixed up in the barn,
and I would feel the curved relation,
the rafters upside down, and the cows in their life
holding the earth round and ready
to meet itself again when morning came.

At breakfast while my mother stirred the cereal
she said, “You’re studying too hard,”
and I would include her face and hands in my glance
and then look past my father’s gaze as
he told again our great race through the stars
and how the world can’t keep up with our dreams.

Blessings,

Tom