The In Between

I’ve been doing some thinking this week, as I’m sure several churchgoers have, about the similarities between our current situation at that of the disciples after Good Friday. That Saturday – that Sabbath – was meant to be a day of rest. And while the disciples were sequestered, I have no doubt they got physical rest. But I cannot imagine it was restful.

Try to imagine: you’ve been following this leader for three years now. You were absolutely convinced that Jesus was the Chosen One. He even seemed to say so. But when push came to shove, the Roman Empire was just too much and that leader didn’t even put up a fight. You are distraught. You are afraid for your life. You are trying to figure out how you could possibly go back to what you were doing before this whole thing started. To be sure, you have changed and you don’t think you’ll be the same person, even if you do go back to fishing. But today you can’t do any of that. Today is the Sabbath and you rest.

It reminds me of the Doctor Who episode entitled “Human Nature” in which the Doctor must become human in order to evade the detection of the Family, who are trying to consume his life energy to become immortal. He ends up becoming a teacher in 1913 England with Martha, his companion, playing the part of a maid at the school. His essence as a Time Lord has been removed and stored in a pocket watch. Before he went through the transition, however, he left instructions for Martha: that she is bear the responsibility for hiding his secret until the time is right. In a particularly heart-wrenching scene, Martha is reviewing the Doctor’s instructions searching for something to help her as he starts falling in love with the school nurse. In the end, she has to make the decision to reveal who he is without help from anyone else.

That time in between is hard. Martha knows that she will soon be travelling the stars with the Doctor once more. But for now, she must be true to the responsibility given her. Because, after bringing the Doctor back to his true form, Martha wasn’t finished with the in between. There would be a much deeper darkness to come, when the Master entraps the Doctor and it falls to Martha to save the world. Without encountering the despair of her first in between, I’m not convinced she would have been able to withstand the second.

That time in between is hard. The disciples know that life must go on and that the Lord will deliver Israel somehow at some time. But for now, they are left to grieve and process. Because, after Jesus is raised from the dead, He didn’t stay for long. Only 50 days later, he ascended, leaving them to wait again. However, having learned to trust and believe the first time, their second waiting was in expectation more than fear.

That time in between is hard. We know that just as every illness has come and gone, there will be a day when COVID-19 is no longer a threat. But for now, we are called to maintain social distancing. Who knows how the things we are learning in midst of this pandemic will serve us in the future. One thing I hope will happen is that we will take our everyday maladies more seriously and do a better job of protecting those whose immune systems are less effective than ours.

So as we approach Easter with the sombre hearts that are appropriate for Lent, knowing that our celebrations will be less jubilant this year, may we remember the lesson of the in between. May we use this time to reflect on our divine calling. May we prepare to use the things we learn from this difficult time to make the world a better place once we emerge, taking our cold and lonely hallelujahs and turning them into more joyful songs.