Mercy, Unmasked

Easter has come! Alleluia! No virus can destroy our faith and hope in the Resurrection!

Can it?

No, assuredly, not.  There is plenty of evidence to the contrary.  People are clamoring more than ever for a taste of God, and we are doing everything within our creative power to stay connected to our faith communities in any way we can.  Every social media page is filled with encouragement and song, even “COVID-cover” songs to parody the virus that has redefined every aspect of normal existence.

The liturgical calendar is just getting started with the celebrations, with Easter being (of course) the greatest and highest of our feasting.  But besides giving us fifty days dedicated to proclaiming victory over death, the Church gives us a feast-within-a-feast, Divine Mercy Sunday, which adds dimensions of depth reaching far beyond simple celebration.  Mercy Sunday deepens the Easter celebration to encourage us to realize there is even more: more growth, more life, more realization of what it truly means to have witnessed Christ now proclaimed, denied, condemned, killed, mourned and resurrected.

What an interesting time to come upon the Feast of Divine Mercy.  Who among us is not eager to pray for mercy?  The world begs for mercy… upon those dying from COVID-19 complications… upon healthcare workers and first responders… upon families who are diligently following every protocol to protect their weak and vulnerable members… upon those whose needs must be set aside to prioritize the response to the pandemic… upon those who are unemployed, or without food, or whose housing and basic necessities are jeopardized by the shutdown of businesses.  The list is overwhelmingly long.

It is an understatement to say that our coping resources are stretched to their limits, no matter who we are, no matter what we carry in our daily rucksacks of needs, challenges and obligations.

It is burdensome to imagine adding any more challenge to the mix.  I pray this is explicitly clear to those reading this post: There is nothing in my intended words meant to suggest that any reader is not doing enough, not making the most of what we can with what we have, and not responding with faith and love in the midst of all the rapidly changing mental, spiritual and physical demands.

In the spirit of building ourselves and each other in faith, then, we have the opportunity to pray for Divine Mercy.

For the past month and beyond, our civic leaders have done an excellent job communicating what we need to know, and do, to maintain our physical safety.  We have been given clear visuals on how to sanitize our hands and surfaces we touch, where to stand to maintain safe distance, and even a very concise explanation of the statistical models being used to predict the best chance at containing and minimizing the devastation that might result from the worst-case scenarios.  It has taken a few weeks to adjust and adapt, but for the most part, we are functioning as a society within very different physical guidelines, and doing a remarkably good job.

Now that we have had this time to digest, assimilate and adapt, we can begin considering how these changes might impact our spiritual health and well-being.

Readers of the Mission of Saint Thorlak will recall several themes on this topic over the past three years.  A brief synopsis might be:

  • Health of the body must first hinge upon, and flow from, attention to health of the soul
  • Health of the soul comes from recognizing and embracing our vulnerability and common human needs
  • Self-preservation is a pattern that shuts others out, eventually shutting out our openness to God
  • Love casts out all fear
  • Mercy is rooted in trust

The following is an excerpt from “The Divine Mercy Connection,” published by the Mission of Saint Thorlak in February, 2018:

Numerous teachings on Divine Mercy have been proclaimed by saints and theologians of recent time to counter the despair, fear and littleness we experience with the expanding awareness of evil in our age.  Thousands hear and turn toward God in the comfort of this loving embrace.  Yet, thousands more miss the window, maybe not even knowingly, by practicing the culture’s habits of humanism, relativism and individualism with dysphoria and distrust.  Thousands fortify themselves in self-esteem, self-justification and self-preservation because it is the backbone of individualism.  Such mindsets may be great for self-empowerment, but ultimately, they impede and reject mercy because they do not perceive any use – any need – for it.

Brokenness [vulnerability] permits mercy to penetrate the shell of self-reliance.  It is through our vulnerability that mercy reaches us. Need is the most fundamental common denominator of humanity.  We are all weak, or broken, or needy in some way.  Being comfortable with weakness will win the battle of spiritual deprivation because need is not a weapon… it is our supply pipeline… our very lifeline.  Without need, life has no purpose.  Even the staunchest individualist can be persuaded to see – and experience – the validity of this argument.

Need opens doors.

If we have no place for need, we cannot understand mercy; because, without need, mercy is meaningless.

 

Revisiting these words seems almost foreign after weeks of learning how to protect ourselves, isolate ourselves, fortify ourselves and reduce vulnerability.

It is absurd to suggest that we should ignore the safety of ourselves or others, and that is not at all the purpose of this post.  But now that we know how to be physically safe, and as we come up on Divine Mercy Sunday, I wonder if it is an acceptable time to reintroduce vulnerability, on a spiritual level… or, if that word has now become hopelessly associated with something to be shielded, fortified or avoided?

Let us start by thinking about the masks many are wearing at the urging of health officials.  I am not referring to those treating coronavirus infections on the front lines, whose masks are critically important.  I am referring to the rest of us, whose masks are nonetheless important, but in the sense that they shield us from the potential of being unknowingly exposed to an unseen threat.

C.S. Lewis posed the question through the voice of Orual: “How can [God] meet us face to face, till we have faces?”

In similar vein, I ask: How do we pray for mercy unless we are open to what mercy asks of us?

How do we pray for mercy during a time when physical safety requires shielding ourselves?

Now that we have learned how to lock down, how do we learn how to open up again?

If we go deeper, we can begin to ask the harder questions, with sincere honesty and humility: For whom, for what, would we risk exposure?  For whom, for what, will we take off our masks?  What would Divine Mercy compel us to respond?  And what if, after weeks of fear, our hearts are not yet ready?

May this be a beginning of an authentic, renewal of Mercy, for which we each might pray.

 

Autism In The Pandemic: When We Don’t Conform

TL;DR: Crisis situations amplify society’s demand for conformity, which under normal circumstances is already a challenge for autistics.  The thoughts and feelings of divergent thinkers are valid and welcome even when these fall outside the norms being set by the pandemic.

This post, I’m sure, is not for everyone.  It may be for some, in parts, and others in other parts.  It is not meant to be a universally applied patch, but I offer it for those who will find it helpful.

Over the past three weeks, great good has unfolded in the world as people come together and support one another in many hours of need.  But there are social perils afloat in the community as we rally together.  Without exaggeration, some autistics are feeling now more marginalized than ever before.  But, why?  Can we really point a finger at the pandemic?

Yes.  Crisis situations amplify society’s demand for conformity, which under normal circumstances is already a challenge for autistics.  Furthermore, the ways we are not easily understood outside of crisis situations can become greatly magnified when tensions run high.  Yet, our needs have not changed, and we cannot put them on hold because everyone is somehow expected to cope with valor “because it’s a crisis.”  It is just as acceptable to be needy now as it was before the orders came to postpone all nonessential matters.

Another point to address: Autistic people do not automatically feel vindicated by either “stay-home orders” or “social distancing.”  In fact, many of us are keenly aware of how this new way of living is creating great pain and frustration for ourselves and others, and for us to wish that on anyone is absurd.  Autistics do not routinely stand six feet from our friends… many of us do enjoy hugs, when we expect them… and no, we have not all longed for the day when we are ordered to stay home.  (Some autistics are even extroverts who are struggling greatly right now!) There are many days autistics will retreat to recover our spent energy, but being part of the community is as important to autistics as anyone else.  If anything, autistic anxiety is likely much higher with all the new and rapidly changing rules, frightening images, panic buying and shortages of supplies we need, and the tremendous suffering we are now aware of, day after day.  Also, those of us who need a set amount of personal space to stay regulated are finding it most challenging to be home with other people, day after day, without the ability to have any truly “alone” time.  The assumption that quarantine is an autistic’s dream come true brings us right to the brink of crying foul in the name of cultural appropriation.

How, then, are autistics adapting to the new normal?  As best we can.  All these changes in our routines take time to assimilate and process.  The pervasive sense of fear is unnerving wherever we go, so our anxieties are likely a lot higher from that alone.  And then there is this: Video messaging is not easy for everyone.  Many (not all) autistics find Skype and Zoom highly provocative of our natural social anxiety.  Now, instead of only feeling self-conscious, we get to see that awkwardness in real-time.  If we have been told repeatedly that our poker-face puts people off, seeing it is not only awkward, but can feel shameful… even though it ought not to be.  It is ridiculously hard to navigate smalltalk on the grid screen, and even more so when the smalltalk is now centered on the pandemic.  In face to face encounters, autistics often go inwardly on “screensaver” during smalltalk as a way of coping and hanging in until a relevant topic begins, but we have little choice when we are on display.  With video chat now the preferred way of maintaining relationships, school and employment, those who are forging through are doing so at great cost to our energy level.

As far as the challenge of thinking outside the pandemic: It is okay to NOT feel afraid, to NOT enjoy online events, and to hold different and creative ideas for carrying on and engineering what we ordinarily would have done.  This one seems obvious, but it is huge and vitally important to say.  Why?  Because our social environment has become greatly limited to online interactions and brief actual conversations.  The same dynamics that marginalize people in everyday situations are now highly concentrated and nearly unavoidable.  Here’s how:  A pandemic is, by definition, a life-or-death situation.  The majority of any group are the ones who determine the rules for safety and standards of “right” conduct.  When anxiety is high and fear of infection is at play, ordinary allowances for diverse opinions are suspended.  It is how crisis management works.  However, when crisis management takes over the social setting as it has by the need for social distancing, the risk is extremely high for anyone who does not match the standards of the majority to be shunned, both overtly and subtly.  But, what if you honestly feel well prepared, resourceful, and have a good grasp on the expected operating procedures? What if you are not afraid?  That does not mean you are reckless, thoughtless, indifferent or skeptical… but the larger community may portray you that way.  The problem is, those who are not afraid become frightening to people who are already frightened.  One of the common responses to that is accusation and scapegoating.  We have seen enough of these dramatizations on shows like “The Twilight Zone,” when neighbors turn on one another in response to fear and failure to conform.  Autistic or not, there are many who feel confident, prepared and calm… and, therefore, marginalized. It is hard to participate in conversations dominated by fear and rumination when we do not feel that way.  Pockets of friends who are applying themselves to “the cause” turn angry toward the one in the group who feels their energy is better used elsewhere.  Creative ideas challenge the lockdown mentality and become a threat rather than the tremendous help they ought to be.  In short, people are much less likely to “live and let live” when they perceive a crisis at hand, and this is a hugely difficult time for divergent thinker.

Through all of these trials, may we remember that this time will eventually pass.  One way or the other, we and our communities will find ourselves wiser on the other side.  May we continue consecrating our autism, all the ways it shapes our minds and hearts, and trust that these areas of divergence will be gateways for God to form deeper and stronger relationships through our daily doings.