Pandemics and Riots and Politics, Oh My!

When the pandemic hit, anxiety took root in my core. As it progressed, I sought comfort in activities such as physical exercise and gardening, but renewing my spiritual practices seemed to help most. The rosary became a cherished daily habit, and I set goals for Bible study, fasting, and monthly Confession.

With each new addition to my spiritual routine, I found myself less anxious, but my unrest did not completely disappear. I still fought back fear each time I put on my face mask to interact with other people or thought about my daughter, an RN who often treats COVID patients.

On August 15th, I started a 54-day Rosary Novena asking that our nation be healed from the corona virus. Over the 54 days, I would make six 9-day novenas—the first three novenas for my intention, and the last three in thanksgiving.

September 11th was the day to begin prayers of thanksgiving. I picked up my rosary, feeling a bit foolish to be thanking God for healing the nation while the virus still raged.

Nevertheless, I prayed my rosary of thanksgiving—and something wonderful happened. When I finished, the fear and anxiety which had festered in my gut for five months were gone for good. God healed me, showing again that He is the God of Love who relates to each of us individually, rather than judging us collectively.

I began to feel a bit smug with this new immunity from anxiety until unrest stirred again in my soul as I watched the news and discussed current events with friends.

"I'm no longer anxious about the pandemic, Lord," I prayed. "But, I fear for my black friends. I don't want them to be hurt by overzealous, misguided police officers. And, I'm afraid for my friends in law enforcement. I don't want them killed by overzealous, misguided social warriors."

"I fear for the future of my country, Lord," I went on. "Each of the two political parties says the other is in league with the devil. Neither of them fully embraces all your teachings. One survey says 21 percent of Democrats are open to violence if the election doesn't turn out like they think it should, and 20 percent of Republicans feel the same way. How can we ever find our way to peaceful coexistence?"

"I fear for your Church, Lord," I wailed. "People condemn the Church for its support of natural law and Church law in denying a presidential candidate the Eucharist. They attacked a Catholic judicial candidate for her beliefs. Our clergy, faithful and churches are being targeted for violence. Each attack on the Church is a dagger to my heart."

"Help me, Jesus. I want to be like you. What would you do?"

A picture came to my mind: Jesus, bent down, writing on the ground with his finger.

I thought back to the Bible story in John 8. Jesus was teaching in the temple area when Pharisees stormed in with a woman they had caught in adultery. They wanted to stone her according to their law and asked Jesus his opinion. He bent down, began drawing on the ground with his finger, and didn't answer for a while.

Finally, he straightened up and said, "Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." Then, he bent down again and wrote on the ground until they went away, leaving him alone with the woman. He told her that he did not condemn her and to go and sin no more.

Nice story, I thought, but how does that answer my question, "What would you do about today's hate and divisiveness?"

Again, the picture of Jesus, bent down writing. This time, my attention was drawn to the shouting, angry mob of Pharisees and scribes surrounding him with stones in their hands. In the middle of the storming crowd, Jesus was the peaceful eye, silently drawing in the sand.

I began to understand. He was inviting me to stay peaceful by focusing on Him. He is the eye of the storm, the antidote to hate and divisiveness.

But, I had another question. "Jesus, many people today have a perverted understanding of the teachings of your Church. Don't I have a responsibility to correct their misunderstanding?"

In my mind, I saw Jesus, quietly waiting in the midst of the mob of misguided, loud Pharisees. He was waiting for the right moment—the moment when their curiosity would overcome their anger, they would grow quiet, and ask him a question. Only then did he tell them what they needed to know.

He was showing me that I am called to be the eye of the storm by prayerfully staying in communion with Him through his holy Church. I am to wait for the right moment, the right question.

I don't know the question or the moment, but I know the answer: Our God of Love heals the world by healing each individual soul who accepts the love and peace He offers.

Until then, I silently pray and wait, with Jesus, in the eye of the storm.

"I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness,

but will have the light of life."

John 8:12

Happy indeed is the man

who follows not the counsel of the wicked;

nor lingers in the way of sinners

nor sits in the company of scorners,

but whose delight is the laws of the Lord

and who ponders his law day and night.

He is like a tree that is planted

beside the flowing waters,

that yields its fruit in due season

and whose leaves shall never fade;

and all that he does shall prosper.

Psalm 1:1-3