In this midst of this crisis, God’s indwelling creative love continues to be revealed.  This morning, and after 17 long days of waiting that seemed an eternity for the preschoolers, the first of our quail eggs hatched.  They keep emerging–so far we’re at 7 of 49; not all will make it, but Lord willing, many more will.

The egg is a traditional symbol of Easter because after weeks of appearing like a lifeless stone, God’s work of new life suddenly emerges in a new creature.  We aren’t to Easter Sunday yet, but in this Lenten season, tiny miracles like this should give us hope.  God has not abandoned us to this pandemic, or to death more generally.  He is at work even when we can not discern it.  He rose from the dead to deliver us from death, both physical and spiritual.

It is indeed springtime.  Life is emerging.  There is much cause for hope, and none for despair.

Of course, these joys are best appreciated at a safe distance from those outside your family–I cannot emphasize too strongly the importance of social distancing in reducing the demand on not only our medical infrastructure, but also our fire departments, police, military, food distribution, and all other necessary infrastructure.

James 1:2-4 “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations;knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”

I work as a law clerk to a federal judge in an upper mid-western state, and I thought I’d write to let you know about the effect our globe-trotting pathogen is having on my little slice of the world. A couple of weeks ago, an email went out from the chief judge instructing us all to make preparations to telecommute if necessary; a week later, I found myself sitting at home doing just that. The federal courthouse here is still open, sort of, but there are precious few people inside save for the janitors, court security officers, and Marshals who have no choice but to be there. My impression is that most chambers are working from home now (as are most lawyers around here in general).

Being a part of the federal judiciary is a funny thing, because while we’re as white collar as you get, we’re also quite necessary to the continued functioning of a number of institutions, in particular federal law enforcement and federal prisons. A word about the latter: the prisons here are on total lockdown and have been for over a week now. If you think that being confined to your house is bad, consider being confined to a prison cell. This is a state of affairs that cannot endure, not least because inmates awaiting trial are being denied access to their lawyers. I shudder to think of the wave of section 1983 litigation that will follow in this thing’s wake. Something for folks like me to look forward to, I suppose.

And just think what would happen if the coronavirus took a trip to SCOTUS. Lordy.

On the home front, things aren’t great. My brother–who works as an accountant on the west coast–was laid off, and my wife became ill yesterday. She was away for a week at a trade show right before the shutdowns began, and when she returned we began self-isolating because she’d had contact with people who were symptomatic. She’s pretty much bed-ridden already, and I began running a fever today. We’re young enough that if this is the plague, the odds are in our favor. Still, it’s hard not to look at what’s happened elsewhere and be at least a bit concerned.

First off, as of this morning, there are 19 confirmed cases in the city. Unlike in many other states where the biggest city has the glut of the cases, Maryland’s hotspot is down in the DC suburbs. I’ve been working from home for the last week, with no clear end in sight, something I don’t enjoy because it’s so isolating. I have two cats for company, an occasional conference call and that’s it. Even the telemarketing calls have ceased, not that I’d answer those even in these times! I have occasionally been calling friends in evenings, both locally and in parts distant.

Because my lack of commute has freed up an hour of time in my life, I’ve taken to biking, weather permitting, going out first thing in the morning, maybe at lunch, and maybe after work. The emptiness of the city is jaw-dropping. Major roads that should be gridlocked at rush hour have barely any vehicle traffic—you’d think it was early Sunday morning. Camden Yards and the bars around it sit forlorn with opening day postponed. People walk dogs, jog, and bike, and small clusters of teenagers, out of school because of the emergency, wander about looking like they are (or want to be) up to no good. Or maybe they’re just bored– but they aren’t socially distancing. Spring has come early and our flowering trees are gorgeous this year. I have an album on Facebook I’m filling with photos for my friends as I bike past especially spectacular vistas.

A bit of unsettling news: the National Guard is in town. The stated reason is so that they can help with humanitarian efforts. And I don’t doubt they are doing that. However I suspect there is another agenda behind that deployment. The courts are on a very limited schedule and the jail is releasing every inmate deemed safe for release to reduce the likelihood of an outbreak behind bars, and the prosecutor’s office has a moratorium on the prosecution of all non-violent crimes (true in other cities too—this isn’t just a Baltimore thing). In effect, drug crimes, theft and prostitution have been decriminalized temporarily. There’s probably a fear in the state and city leadership that this laxity (which, to be clear, is necessary) could lead to a crime wave or worse. So the Guard are already in place just in case.

I spend eight hours a day at my desk, and after dinner I take the cats out in the back yard where I putter a bit in the garden since spring is coming early. Then it’s up to my bedroom to read, browse, write, and listen to music. I go to sleep at night with medieval chant playing on my Echo. I am discovering the music of Hildegard von Bingen and loving it. I have asthma, and a tendency to sinus issues so every morning I wake up congested and thinking “Oh, is this it?” Which so far it hasn’t been.

Very much missing church during Lent. I got an email from my erstwhile church in Fort Lauderdale (St. Philip’s, AOC) that they will be live streaming the Liturgy tomorrow morning, so I will probably “attend” online since while I’ve been gone from there for twelve years now, it will at least be a familiar church to visit virtually. Went to a Walmart this morning to see if the idiot-buying was over—not quite. Plenty of milk but lots and lots of other stuff was out. Who runs out and panic-buys all the licorice in a crisis? Someone(s) did.

From “a major East Coast city”:

Our governor’s previous order for non-essential businesses to close has now become mandatory, and will be enforced starting on Monday. The small office where I work already was planning to transition to temporary remote work, but now that’s been extended for an indefinite period until the government says otherwise. We provide legal services, and thankfully remote work is possible, but it’s far from ideal. I made a transition to a different group at work after the New Year and I am still training. The training would be much easier in person, but we’ll try our best with emails, texts, and online meetings.

Like so many of your readers, I heeded your early warnings and started stocking up on (not hoarding) some extra supplies last month. So did my family. We owe you immense gratitude. I am worried about my Silent Generation father and Boomer mother in Florida. They are remaining inside except for some grocery shopping. Still, I am worried that they’ll be stubborn and think they can just ride it out at home if they get sick. I’m scared by the stories I read about how quickly this can turn from mild coughing to respiratory distress. Even if they do seek help, I wonder if it will be available for them. All I can do is check on my parents as much as possible. My sister and I are both ready to head down to my parents’ house if necessary. They insist on staying in FL rather than with one of us.

I’m Orthodox and haven’t been to church since the Sunday of Orthodoxy. I really miss it. We held open services last weekend, but I stayed home because we had respiratory illness going around the office. I didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to expose my church family to possible COVID-19. Thankfully, everyone at work has recovered and no one had a fever. Services are now closed for at least the rest of the month. We’re now live-streaming services on Facebook and YouTube. My parish is also hosting an online Bible study to replace the Lenten adult education series we had in place, and a weekly virtual meeting for parishioners to check in on one another.

In the midst of all of this,  I am planning a wedding (and move) for mid-summer. We have been engaged only since New Year’s Day, but had been methodically planning the wedding since then. I have my dress and my fiance’s tux is ordered. We have the cake and food essentially lined up. We already have our crowns, candles, and crown tray engraved with the wedding date. Our invitations are stored at my fiance’s house. We are supposed to be doing marriage preparation with my priest. Now all of that is in flux. I am hopeful that things will settle down by then, but what if not? What if something happens to our families in the meantime? Will they be able to travel here?Will I have time to get my dress altered (the shop is currently closed)? You’re supposed to send invitations two months ahead of time, so what will the world look like then? How long can we wait? These questions can bring me near to tears. We were already planning a small wedding and reception at the parish hall, but now it may be even smaller. If it can go forward at all.

Evangelical pastor living in Boise, Idaho. Our confirmed case numbers in Idaho are officially low, but that is certainly because of the lack of testing. My brother-in-law is an ER nurse at a local hospital and has been charge nurse and the lead respiratory nurse on-and-off over the last couple weeks. As charge nurse, one of his jobs was to find all the masks and lock them up so that the doctors and staff didn’t hoard them for home use. As lead respiratory nurse, he and the staff saw something like 50-70 patients in a couple days who came in with CV-19 symptoms and were negative for influenza. They had only 70 CV-19 tests at the hospital, so decided to test only those who needed to be hospitalized. They tested those, but 6 days later had not received results (the tests were somehow mishandled and they had to retest). These stories were from the days when Idaho’s official count was between 0-5 confirmed cases.

Boise has a democratic mayor and has for awhile, but it also has its fair share of LDS preppers (if you are looking to buy a house here, you have a good chance of finding one with a “mormon pantry”, a walk-in with more than enough space for all the food you could want for this month and next), anti-government conspiracy theorists (Ruby Ridge took place in Idaho for a reason), and full-throated Trump defenders, plus the occasional confederate flag. The far right and our LDS neighbors here have been all over the coronavirus from the beginning, while the more Republican-ish Trump supporters are still treating this as a hoax or a pathetic joke. When I have gone out grocery shopping, the toilet paper is gone, of course, but the roads are full and many seem to be acting as though this won’t have much of an impact. It will. I’m guessing we have nearer 1000 cases than the official number (31 as of this morning).

The politics of this thing have amazed me—only the Republicans seem to be treating this as a hoax. I regularly check in with you and Larison at The American Conservative and with Talking Points Memo (nobody’s idea of conservatives, though I found them through Conor Friedersdorf, whose work I believe I found through you). Both you on the right and TPM on the left have been talking about the dangers of the coronavirus for some time. Another place where the right and left could come together. It’s only the Trump supporters and the Republican Party who have treated this as unimportant. I’m not smart enough to know whether that is a function of power or of this president’s (and his movement’s) postmodern rejection of truth. Maybe in the new world to emerge from all this, we can finally achieve the political realignment many of us are hoping for.

As a pastor: we have a regular meeting of young adults, known as the St Justin’s Society (we brainstorm topics, vote, and then discuss) at a local sandwich and spirits shop, Pino’s. We have moved our meetings online in order to comply with isolation recommendations from the church elders (we have a high number of at-risk congregants and so our elders’ suggestions have been more cautious than state authorities’ orders). During our first online meeting, we had one young man nearly fall asleep because he was fighting fever and illness and another young woman whose co-worker went home with CV-19 symptoms. We decided to by gift certificates for Pino’s because we just can’t be there now. At the church, we have moved our services online, which meant that I preached to an empty gym last week and will this week receive our low-church communion at home with homemade french bread (baking right now—smells delicious). Several others from the community have said that they are experiencing or have experienced CV-19 symptoms, though none have been critical so far, and only one that I know of is being tested.

For me personally: I entered this season with mono, so I have assumed that I am high risk. My personal and spiritual life have been low energy for awhile. I have felt extra permission to just stay home. My wife and kids are normally very active (she is a doula in town, the girls are 12, 8, and 6) and we have been singing and reciting Psalms. I am reading Jacobs’ In the Year of Our Lord 1943 and enjoying the connections I’m seeing between that time and this (what will the new world be like when this is all over? how do we prepare for that world as Christians?). My prayer life has been focused on walking simply with Jesus, though I have struggled to silence my mind and heart in the anxiety of this time. I am grateful for the Christian community at our church and other local churches; we have had meals for us, and one of my main roles at the moment is trying to connect all those—especially our young people—who want to help with those who have needs. The millennials care. As you have said, it’s the boomers (maybe especially the Trump-aligned Boomers) who aren’t taking this seriously.

With luck the virus will die of loneliness, but in the meantime, all nonessential retail and services are closed. As a result almost no one is on the streets, which is surreal because traffic is usually a headache. Going out shopping for food is weird, as the grocery store only lets a few people in at a time. You sanitize your hands and shopping cart handle on entry, shop quickly with the staff letting in another patron after you are down the aisle a bit. After collecting your items they have another worker directing patrons to checkout lines to ensure no clumping.

34 y/o guy here, and I don’t know that I’ve ever felt happier to work for a major supermarket chain. We’re busier than ever, doing gangbuster business; I received my regular biannual pay raise last week, corporate just announced that all employees are getting a permanent pay raise (another raise, in my case) as a thanks for our efforts during this time, and my quarterly bonus will probably be the best ever. My routine at work has actually become *easier*, in a way, despite our daily sales roughly doubling. I used to have to manage inventory, do I need this much or that much? Now I receive whatever the warehouse can send me, I put it out as fast as possible, let the customers swarm it, and maintain empty shelves for the rest of the day.

People watching has never been more entertaining. There’s been a definite uptick in customers wearing masks and gloves, though as a certified food safety professional it makes me cringe when I see them wearing gloves and touching multiple food items and surfaces. Gloves are great for protecting yourself… and great for disease transmission when you don’t change them! And the objects people are substituting for masks are frankly, hilarious. I’ve seen a customer with a plastic bag on their head, a customer with Saran wrap around their face, a customer with a paper bag on their head (possibly a throwback to the Aints days).

The customers have mostly been polite, and we actually get quite a few compliments about our hard work trying to keep our shelves well-stocked, which is a nice change of pace; there are of course the angry ones who want to know why we don’t just “order more” (WHOA why didn’t I think of that), the ones who insist they should be allowed to buy more than the quantity limit of 1 or 2 (it’s always for an elderly neighbor or family member), and the ones who are mystified as to why the shelves are empty (in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a panic on). Honestly what amuses me the most are the customers who wonder aloud why it’s so busy, and why don’t we have anything… when their own cart is filled with the allowed limit on items like milk, eggs, water, toilet paper, etc. The psychology of panic-buying and denial is a fascinating thing to me, how everyone sees themselves as “not like *those* people”.

I can verify what the letter-writer from Tampa said about seeing the same persons every day when they shop; we still have our regulars who shop for the same items 7 days a week, same time every day. Old habits die hard, especially when you’re 75, retired, and have nothing else to do.

I completely expect to catch COVID-19 at some point, given the number of people I come into contact with daily and the sheer number of objects I touch that other people have also touched; I’ve always been diligent about hand washing and using hand sanitizer but now, more than ever. Luckily I’m young and in fairly decent health, so hopefully I’ll only have mild/moderate symptoms. On my days off I try to limit my travels and mostly stay at home just in case I am carrying the virus. My dad is 63 and not in great health so I’ve stayed away from visiting him; how long will that have to go on for? My sister just told us in January she’s pregnant and due in September, I know the viral effects are unclear on pregnant women but we’re all concerned for her. What sort of world will her baby be born into?

To wrap it up, please people, how many rolls of toilet paper do you think you’ll realistically need? Don’t be selfish. Thanks.