And behold a great tempest arose in the sea, so that the boat was covered with waves, but he was asleep. And they came to him, and awaked him, saying: Lord, save us, we perish. And Jesus saith to them: Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith? Then rising up he commanded the winds, and the sea, and there came a great calm.
Matthew 8:17
So many months into the madness of the pandemic and new methods are rolled out to terrify the masses. I’ve no doubt that once things seem to settle, and we regain a sense of normality, an alarm goes off in the hearts and headquarters of all manner of industries.
There are ‘explosions’ of cases, of an ‘out of control’ virus, that is sometimes, somehow, dangerously asymptomatic. We live in dread fear of ‘hotspots,’ ‘super spreaders’ and culturally homogenous, alphabetical ‘variants.’
Yes, there are those who become quite ill, and those who tragically, die. But the overwhelming majority do not, and those whose lives are lost are usually lost with the virus, not because of it. We know all of this, but we act as though we don’t. We treat a positive detection of an infection as a ‘case,’ which was a medical term traditionally reserved for a serious or acute instance of an illness that would usually result in hospitalisation.
People twist themselves into knots to satisfy the narrative, proudly brandishing their mask, or their vaccine, or their devotion to crippling isolation and despotic mandates and protocols. Hashtags. T-Shirts. Bandaids. Photo filters. Do our bit. Stop the spread. Flatten the curve. Dull the senses.
The pattern of dehumanisation in the strategies is remarkable. They promote a culture of fear, suspicion and outright animosity towards anyone who asks reasonable questions. They deny access to community, to congregation, interaction, intimacy. They moderate the joy and wonder of the human visage with a covering of negligible efficacy, which most likely does more harm than good, once wet and stashed in your pocket God knows how many times. They strip thousands of their livelihoods and render thousands of others atomised, alone, trying to make sense of the human experience, without the human experience.
They deny the faithful the sacraments, quell the choirs, empty the classrooms and strip the town square of its lifeblood. The virtual sphere, of course, swells and rages. We watch more. Buy more. Fight more. Fear more. We become infected by so much more, giving in to the paranoia, the terror, the compulsion to the worst of our natures, turning against one another and placing far too much trust in a digital oligarchy that twists, distorts, silence and denies according to its whims.
Their capacity to stifle discussion and dissent should trouble us more than the virus should, but then again, perhaps we need the wake up call. Perhaps we need to see the abuse of power, to see where that power lies. Perhaps we need to be amid the tempest to be reminded of how Christ ‘commanded the winds, and the sea, and there came a great calm.’
Just don’t fall asleep in the boat beside him; but watch, wait, and pray.
