Have you been suffering from the all day and all night obsession of checking the latest COVID-19 news updates? I have. News outlets are all too eager to detail for the public the most worrisome stories concerning the contagious coronavirus sweeping the world. The announcement that all classes at Yale have been moved online and that many students have been asked not to come back to school adds to the concern and fear surrounding the virus. Do you wonder where Jesus is in all of this? I do.

I am comforted to be experiencing this serious disruption during Lent. The season makes clear to us that following Jesus is not easy. It involves our own position of dependence and submission. It is a time of preparation for what is to come, which is Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection.

When Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem, as we see in the Gospel today, he experiences a premonition of his death followed immediately by a request from the mother of the sons of  Zebedee. The narrative account of these two things is jarring—the disciples have just been told that their beloved Jesus will be violently put to death and then will be raised on the third day. In a shift of tone, a mother approaches Jesus to make a request on behalf of her sons. The request is endearing. It makes me think of the many times my own mom made (and often continues to make) requests on my behalf. This mother in Matthew wants what many mothers want for their children—for her sons to be made to sit on the right and left of Jesus in His kingdom.

Jesus’ response is not easy to hear for those who have been following him, hoping to partake in His triumph. The glory of joining Jesus in His kingdom is not actually Jesus’ to give, but his Father’s! What a delicious ego-check, and one to remember as we prepare to be cooped up in our homes for the next couple of weeks. The accomplishments we achieve by the world’s standards matter not a bit; it is the way we prepare our hearts and minds and bodies to be servants that makes us worthy. As we head into uncertain times in our country and at Yale University, I take comfort in the shouts we hear in the psalm:  “Save me, O Lord, in your kindness!” I pray that you take this uncertain time as an opportunity to ask of the Lord to be made more of a servant to Him and to others in the world, especially those suffering from illness and all of its concomitant disruption and danger. I pray for joy, transformation, and safe passage from the dangers of COVID-19.

I offer this song as a meditation today. Thomas A. Dorsey, famous composer and lyricist of some of the most well-known gospel music, wrote “Peace in the Valley” in 1937:

I'm tired and weary
But I must go along
Till the Lord comes to call me away, oh Lord
Well, the morning is bright
And the Lamb is the Light
And the night is as fair as the day
Oh, there will be peace in the valley for me, for me
There will be peace in the valley for me, oh Lord I pray
No more sadness, no more sadness, no more trouble there'll be
There will be peace in the valley for me, for me
Well, the bear will be gentle
The wolf will be tame
And the lion shall lay down with the lamb, oh yes
And the [Incomprehensible] from the wild
Will be led by a child
I'll be changed from this creature that I am
Oh, there will be peace in the valley for me someday
There will be peace in the valley for me, I pray
No more sadness, no more sadness, no more trouble there'll be
There will be peace in the valley for me, for me

I hope you find peace in the Lord’s loving care this Lenten season. I am praying for you and for our community.