One of the common phrases I’ve heard over the past few months is “I can’t wait until things return to normal.” I can even admit to having said these words myself. Normal. We often talk about normalcy, but what do we really mean by it? Usually, when we speak of normal, we mean comfortable, what is known or predictable, something that fits with what we think life should be like. And right now, that’s what we long for. We long for the days of predictability, where we could be fairly certain what each day would hold. And it’s understandable that we long for this. There is comfort in knowing what each day holds, and in being able to be involved in the things that bring light and life to us and our loved ones. But when we speak of “returning to normal” we’re also referring to going back to what was. To the way life was a few months ago. Where things are exactly the way they were before. But the truth is, that isn’t possible. We can’t return to life before this pandemic. Because now, we have had new experiences that have shaped us. We have been forced to live life differently. Where the simplest of actions, like grocery shopping or hugging a loved one has changed us and the way we think and feel. We’ve also become witness to illness and death in ways that we’re not used to. All of this changes us, and changes the world we live in. And our scriptures remind us of this. In Jesus’ appearance to his disciples in the Gospel of John, we’re told that he still bears the wounds of his death. Jesus has returned, but is not the same as he was. Marked by the violence he experienced, Jesus has been made new. And the same is true for us as well. The day will come when we are able to return to a life of more freedom. We will return to work, and go on vacations and embrace loved ones. But we will not be returning to the life we once knew. What we knew is gone. We now have the experience of a pandemic. We will now always know what isolation and lonlieness is. We will always carry with us the grief we felt at not being able to help a loved one or gather together in collective grief over the death of a loved one. These experiences will shape us. But this is also at the heart of our faith: resurrection. New life. Re-creation. As an Easter people, we believe in the one who creates and re-creates. Who invites us into new life again and again. Right now we are in the midst of a Holy Saturday. We’re waiting, wondering, still fearful at times. Not sure of what is to come, but still holding on to what was. But trust that the time will come when we are able to engage our “new normal.” Trust that something more does await, even if it means adapting and growing into whatever that new normal will be. For Easter will come. New life will come. Our New normal will come. But until then, let us trust in the one who walks with us, seeking to be our comfort and guide. And let us hold one another in love, as we seek to journey through this time together. For we are not alone, thanks be!
God Bless, Rev. Tara Ann
Bideford Pastoral Charge 