Exactly a year ago I posted how the Coronavirus pandemic had hit me as real. I had just read about the first NYC MTA worker who had died from COVID-19 and it had hit me harder than any of the news up to that point.
A year later, I’ve experienced COVID. I would say I got a taste of it, but I don’t taste much anymore. I’ve had plenty of debates and discussions with people about data, statistics, health and medical questions, authority and obedience, worship, “doing church,” masks, fear, and dystopia.
A lot fit in the past year. Some things were net positive, like being forced to be more of an essentialist, and some things were hard negatives, like the division and discord that have grown in the great philosophical petri dish of 2020.
As I think of the past 365 days, the word that comes to mind to best capture what has happened is “catalyst.” A lot of things lit off this year. Some things that smoldered for ages became infernos in the last year. Some things we didn’t know were hanging around in our lives/mindsets/practices came to light. People stirred pots. Some people being stirred yelled about how they disapproved of the stirring while being unable to hide that they were reveling in the ride.
Overall I think of negatives in the last year. Part of that is my tendency toward cynicism, but part of that is simply because the evidence points to a lot more negatives than positives being present in this span of time. From the big things like the huge deaths over expectation and limited gatherings for fellowship, to the smaller annoyances like wearing a facemask to go into the gas station.
I know that that I need to find the catalysts for good. Find the positives and stoke them and not fan the flames on the negatives I so easily fixate on. The story of Christianity is redemption. Of taking the broken things and making beauty from them. I want to do that with this.