Last week Governor Ivey amended her “Safer at Home” order to allow for churches to resume gatherings. Her only stipulation was that churches maintain a six-foot distance between persons from different households. Since that time, however, her office has released a fuller list of protocols based on guidelines developed by the Center for Disease Control. You can access those updated protocols at https://alabamapublichealth.gov/covid19/assets/cov-sah-worship.pdf.

One of my favorite television shows growing up was “The Lone Ranger.” It was a western adventure series that featured the story of the sole survivor of a group of Texas Rangers (not the baseball team) who was nursed back to health by a trusty Native American named Tonto, who then became his lifelong companion. Together they roamed the Old West, defending helpless souls of all kind against the forces of evil. The Lone Ranger’s trademark was a mask he wore to conceal his identity as he went about battling outlaws of various persuasions. Each episode in the series ended with the Lone Ranger riding off from having saved the day on his trusty steed Silver, while someone baffled by the sight would always ask, “Who was that masked man?” To which the person who had just been saved would always answer, “That was the Lone Ranger!”

Hard times, such as the one we’re going through now, have the potential both to teach us new things about ourselves and to confirm other things we already knew. I’m still not sure what all I have learned over these last two months, but there is one thing that they have confirmed to me about myself – I am not too good at doing deprivation.

Governor Ivey released the first of this week her recommendations for the next phase of our state’s reopening. Titled, “Safer at Home,” the Governor’s new order is a responsible and gradual approach to enabling activities in Alabama to get back up and running. While her order no doubt comes as a great disappointment to many who would have preferred to see our state return to a way of life we enjoyed just two months ago (though it seems much longer), I think she acted wisely…and even faithfully. The public’s health must take precedence over everything, even something as important as our state’s economy.

Earlier this year, The New York Times ran a story titled, “How to Be an Expatriate in 2020.” It was a story that focused on a middle-aged couple, Chuck and Kirsten Burgess, who decided one day to leave behind their two comfortable homes, one in Manhattan and the other in the Hamptons, along with their good careers, in order to move abroad to an entirely different country, where they owned nothing, knew no one, and had no real capacity for speaking any language other than their native English. And so they sold off everything, picked up the little they had left over, and moved lock, stock, and barrel to Barcelona, Spain. What really got my attention in the article was, of course, their reasoning. According to the couple, they transitioned to an expatriate life “because they yearned for something more – not something more in the sense of material things, but in the satisfaction derived from new adventures in new lands.” And as the article went on to feature other Americans who had come to the same decision as the Burgesses, it concluded with this observation on the “expat” life: “This is not a life for those who are running away; it’s instead a life for those who running toward something (“How to Be an Expatriate in 2020,” The New York Times, 2/21/20).

Last week the President’s Coronavirus Task Force came out with a three-phased plan to “Open Up America Again.” While not delving into specifics, the plan did offer clear guidelines to the nation’s governors in order to assist them in filling in the details that might get our country’s economy back up and running once again.

Every journey in life presumes a destination. In other words, when we set out on a particular course, most of the time we are aiming to get somewhere specifically. Granted, we may have adjusted our aim a bit in these recent days because of our current situation. For example, some of us feel the need at times to get out of the house and just go “somewhere.” We don’t have a specific destination in mind; we just know that if we don’t get out we may go “bat crazy,” which by the way is a figure of speech that has lost its charm in light of our present pandemic. But you get the point. A mobile society can’t tolerate a quarantine situation forever, and so we look for ways to get out, which in itself is enough of a destination for most of us.

Growing in our understanding of Easter faith is a challenge we Christians face every post-Resurrection Sunday. Because we put so much emphasis on that particular day and those leading up to it (as well we should), we tend to breathe a sigh of relief when Easter Sunday is over, grateful that we accomplished all the tasks that go along with such a signal celebration. What we too often fail to keep in mind, however, is that Easter is much more than a single day on the calendar; it is instead a way to live our faith throughout the year, especially in those seasons where we experience significant headaches and heartaches.