Sacred Connections: We All Need a Hug
A few weeks ago, after a small outdoor Church of the Redeemer gathering where we had been physically distanced and wearing masks, an individual came up to me and asked, “Could I have a hug?” I responded, “I’m so sorry, but no, I can’t give you a hug right now.” Maybe some of you are thinking, “What kind of person, let alone priest is she?” And if you are, I get it because those words were blasting in my brain too.
I don’t believe I have ever said “no” to a hug request before in my life. I love people, I love hugging people, especially when they are expressing a need for that sense of support and connection. But on a deeper level I was needing to abide by the covenant we have with each other – to keep each other safe as best we can. As best I can right now includes maintaining physical distance and wearing a mask for your safety, and the next dear person’s, and the next person’s, and the next person’s, and my own.
Many of us are so desperately short on hugs right now, especially if we are living alone. Even if we’re living with others, we may be deeply longing for those special hugs from those we’ve not been able to see. And we may not all be of one mind of the necessity or efficacy of such safety measures, across the community, the country, or even in our family. We are needing to learn and evaluate our risk tolerance and the risk tolerance of those we hold dear in an environment of ever-changing conditions, diverse opinions and growing data.
Earlier this week, I was able to meet with Church of the Redeemer’s CARE Team of wonderful folks with expertise on the challenges we face with COVID-19. They are generous and compassionate in sharing their knowledge, wisdom, and experience as they offer advice on how we might continue in our ministries while keeping each other as safe as we know how to be. This small team lives the complexity of the COVID-19 situation day in and day out, yet our personal conversation and challenges this week reflected the conversations happening in so many of our homes every day.
How do we tell grandparents they cannot attend a beloved grandchild’s 16th birthday when they have never missed one before? How do we let family know we may not all be able to be together for Thanksgiving? Would it be safe for me as an older adult to join in on a family vacation – we were all together this summer, but we were always outdoors? How do we calm our daughter’s concerns that we’ll be okay if we visit her at college? And will we be? How do we stay close to loved ones when we haven’t seen each other for many months and don’t know when we will? Each decision has so many elements and layers of complexity, and it is a struggle for even experts in the field to sort this out for themselves.
In this conversation and so many others, our voices express our love for each other, our desire to look out for each other, and the generosity of spirit in trying to work it all out. Trying to keep loved ones safe is not selfish or excluding, it’s being mindful of risks and risk tolerance and the balance of physical, mental and emotional well-being. Trying to keep ourselves safe is not selfish or excluding, it’s recognizing and respecting our own risk tolerance and not wanting someone else to feel the burden of responsibility if a choice goes awry. These times are temporary although they may not feel it right now. This has been and continues to be a slog, and we all simply want to get through it. As we work with the realities of our present circumstances, we look for creative pathways for now, with hope of celebrating greater freedom in the future.
For me, I have another birthday coming up soon. Last year I think was my most favorite birthday ever. I was in Utah for a brief visit with my family there, and we celebrated with my son, granddaughter and I kayaking on a beautiful, peaceful reservoir near their home – that reservoir has become one of my most treasured places on earth. We closed out the day with a scrumptious meal in a restaurant nestled in the mountains and handmade birthday cards from my granddaughter. My heart was absolutely full, I could have wanted for nothing more.
But as we humans are apt to do, I did want for something more, I wanted this to be the way I celebrated my birthday the next year and the years to come. And, that is not to be this year. Perhaps I can hold on to a glint of that dream for years ahead. But my gratitude and solace dwell in the gift already received a year ago, the joy I still hold in my heart, the beauty and peace of God’s creation that touches my soul, and especially that feeling of sacred connection with those I so deeply love.
In these times, as we are acutely aware of what we may be missing, and struggling with the decisions we make now, let us also reflect on the gifts that have already been given and continue to dwell within us now. And let us be open to the movement of the Spirit and the gifts we can still be to each other now. An elbow bump is not a hug, but heartfelt presence is precious gift to all.
