Ministry of Truth

Today in church we heard a tremendous sermon from a departing member of our congregation. He is a serving Canadian Army chaplain who is being posted out to CFB Esquimault on Vancouver Island.

Rev. Tyler has been deployed overseas twice in his career, once to Ukraine and once to Germany. While in Germany one of his responsibilities was something called "third location decompression" and it factored strongly in his reflection.

Third location decompression provides a structured time designed to help transition service members from their time on deployment in a high-tension, often dangerous environment before returning home to their "normal" lives. It is a proven means of combatting things like PTSD, and members who have anxieties or concerns or straight-up problems with the adjustment can be given the resources they need.

Decompressing in Germany is an interesting experience, as Rev. Tyler related it: you have paved roads and safe shops and all manner of things like you do back in Canada, but every interaction is slightly more difficult. Take going to a shop to buy a food item, for instance; if you don't speak German (like the majority of those decompressing), you aren't going to be able to recognize the signage, labels or ingredients. You aren't going to recognize too many familiar brands. And even the currency is different! Even a simple, everyday event like buying something to eat at the grocer's suddenly carries unexpected variables and an element of risk, at least at a social level.

"Sound familiar?" he asked, and it suddenly twigged on me that he could be describing life under COVID.

"You have all been deployed," he stated. For two years, he continued, you have had to do ordinary things in extraordinary ways, and with risks none of us could have anticipated before the pandemic began. And now we are slowly returning to normal - but there is no decompression, so supervision, no overarching structure. 

Some people are ready to return to normal, feeling it is long overdue, while others are still cautious, because who knows what the next variant might bring?

His words brought a sharp realization to me: that I am not the same person I was when the pandemic began.

That I am a damaged person. 

My mother, my remaining parent, passed in December, just as COVID was breaking free of China. Two months later I had my career upended as I was redeployed at work back to the same position I had when I began there a decade earlier. And a month after that, everyone was sent to work from home, and I have been doing it ever since. (And hope to keep doing it, frankly, having made my peace with the redeployment - a post for another day, perhaps!) Have I given those changes any serious consideration? HAve I recognized the impacts they have had on my patience, my anger, my expectations about life?

Rev. Tyler wrapped up by explaining how it is okay to not be okay, that everyone will make this awkward, staggering transition to post-pandemic life at their own pace, and it is important to recognize this in both ourselves, and in others. That we need to give ourselves time to adapt.

His simple, human reassurance - his validation of a struggle shared - moved me profoundly, and gave me pause to reflect; truth and wisdom that transcended the scriptural relevance and became something universal I felt compelled to share.

This is the reason I worship - not be told that everything is going to be all right, or that everything is proceeding according to plan, or that it all gets sorted out in the afterlife - the affirmation that other humans have experienced or are experiencing similar things, and that guidance can be ours. The sense that we can support each other and make things collectively better. And where else would I hear something like this?

Tonight we were very happy to have our first visit from our former minister James and his husband Glen - two delightful people we haven't seen face to face since pre-pandemic, and who now live in St. John's.

Rev. James introduced our household to a lot of perspectives we now take for granted, and not just LGBTQ+ ones, but also living in right relations with indigenous peoples and not just knuckling under to the patriarchy. In fact, Fenya told him tonight that, "My life trajectory would have been very different if I hadn't met you," and I think he was legitimately touched. Fenya has made justice, equality and inclusion a major part of her life, which is part of the reason one of her sociology professors nicknamed her "Human Rights Person," and referred to her by that name in class on multiple occasions.

I know religion and spirituality are not everyone's bag, and given how they have been weaponized in the past (and probably the future, if the items we see on CNN are any indicator, but let me tell you, having a dedicated time to reflect while getting insights from excellent humans on Sunday mornings has benefited me greatly.

But at the end of the day, perhaps the key has less to do with interpreting ancient wisdom and more to do with recognizing excellent humans in your life.