G. F. Handel: Messiah HWV 56

I know I've said this in the past, but it bears repeating. Especially now, if you need comfort--after all, the opening words are "Comfort ye my people." If you never have, take two hours, do nothing else; this is the perfect time for it; sit down, and just listen. Let it soak through your soul, into your spirit. Let the waves of the music wash over your body. And attend to the words--they're all Scripture. If you have never truly listened to The Messiah, then you have missed out on one of the most profound and important experiences in human history. Seriously. Your life is not complete unless you've heard this, watched Hamlet, and read War and Peace.

"Don't Panic."

-- Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

When I was a boy, my stepfather, who was at the time a homicide detective for the Atlanta PD, and a Vietnam veteran, used to tell me: "The main thing is not to panic." This is very true, has served me well throughout my life, has saved my life on at least one occasion, and is still true and very applicable right now. 

The coronavirus is mildly lethal, but less so than the flu, or driving down the highway. Far more potentially lethal is coronapanic--and much more to be feared. As is usual on this earth, the deadliest thing is the stupidity of human beings.

So relax, take reasonable precautions, but keep living your life. Just watch out for stupid, panicky people, for they are the real threat. And use this time to deepen your relationship with, and your reliance on, God, and as a learning experience and opportunity for personal growth. This is Not the End of the World. As someone who has spent his life studying the End of the World, I assure you that this is not it. 

Light and Joy

Something very amazing happened a few days ago.

I had one of those nights in which, although I couldn't really remember any of my dreams distinctly, I had the sense of the Lord's presence, speaking and ministering to me, throughout the night. Then, in the morning, I woke up to Carolina having sent me this:

"May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out."

-- J.R.R. Tolkien

And as I sat in bed, as I often do, and reflected, and prayed, and meditated about the night before and the day to come, I began to think about those lights, and colored lights in general and how beautiful and magical they are--how something like a Christmas tree or an outdoor trellis strung with strings of colored lights transports us to a wonderland, a place of peace and beauty and joy out of time, and about how the key to all beauty in visual art is light. And I was also thinking about Hobbits (I began re-reading The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings when I thought I was dying), and their ineffable cheerful resilience. And I realized, I think simultaneously, that a) light represents in material form the goodness and joy of God; b) that the secret to Hobbits' strength is their deep wells of unshakable joy; and c) that joy is a spiritual virtue, not just a feeling. 

And as I came to this realization, I began to experience waves of deep, and true, and profound supernatural joy rolling over me, passing through me, welling up from within me. And suddenly, the world looks beautiful again.