Night of Remembrance: A Covid-19 Interactive Memorial

Structured Liturgy

 Good evening and welcome to A Night of Remembrance and Interactive Covid-19 Memorial. You will notice at your tables a single chair with a cloth draped over it and a simple floral place setting to remind us of the tables around the world that are missing loved ones. Just this week we surpassed a global death toll of 5 million, and so we will begin this evening in a moment of silence for these families. 

We now know that sometime in November of 2019, in what seems like a lifetime ago, SARS-CoV2 entered our lives, soon to be known as the Coronavirus , Covid-19, Covid, or just ‘Rona. What might have begun as a far away disease off the radar for many people, would soon be declared a Public Health Emergency of International Concern by the World Health Organization and it reached that status of pandemic on March 11, 2020.  Many of you learned this news while away on a spring break mission trip, on beach, a plane, or sitting at home wondering if you would be returning to school at all, but unless you were on the West Coast, or your family was overseas chances were your life was still relatively unaffected.

It’s hard even now then, to imagine to rapidness with which our circumstances changed. How could a disease in another country become a disease ravaging the western seaboard from a cruise ship to the entire state of California on lockdown. Then we turn to the east and New York City tears our heart out like it hasn’t in almost 20 years. We’ve cried for New York City first responders before, but not like this. Before we know it the seasons have changed, Easter dinners, and Passover and Iftar feasts have been consumed alone. It’s May, and at least 100,000 people in the United State alone have died.

We learn a lot about ourselves turn that time. We learn about Zoom bombers and how to tell the difference between asynchronous and synchronous classes. We get creative. We remember to reduce, reuse and recycle. For once we are grateful for phone calls over texts. We long to be together. We’d be remiss if we didn’t mention the racial reckoning of the summer of 2020 and what we learned from that too. What we’re still learning. 2020 broke us wide open and exposed our deepest fears and our truest humanity. It reminded us what mattered and we all have had to wrestle with that if we were honest with ourselves.

This past school year was all about more firsts and survival. We wore masks and Covid tested. We isolated and quarantined. Some of us stayed home, some of us took online classes, others hybrid, others were full time in the classroom. We had some versions of our college experience, but we could not ignore another wave of Covid in our midst and the importance of mitigating outbreaks. We all had to do our best.

This school year has brought with it its own set of contradictions. We finally have a vaccine and the ability to gather more safely than ever before, but we also have a new variant and we’ve seen our deadly days yet this pandemic in Waco just this fall. We all just want to get back to normal but what does that really even mean? We have an opportunity to make our own version of normal by accepting the things that have changing and living nto new possibilities. We can still have a word where we see nurses and grocery store clerks are heroes for the everyday ways, they make our lives better and the very humanity they carry just as much as doctors and lawyers. We can thank our teachers for keeping our kids safe and helping them learn, we can consider it a privilege to be in a classroom with our peers and we take time to get to know our community and get involved no matter where our career paths take us. As Mother Teresa said, “we belong to each other.” And we understand to now more than ever, if we’re willing to live it.

Today is significant in the Christian calendar for many reasons. We have several important days here in a row. Yesterday was All Saints Day, celebrated by Catholics and some Protestants in Western Church tradition on the 1^st. The Eastern Church celebrates a little closer to Easter. Today is All Souls Day also celebrated by Western Catholics and some Protestants. And it’s also the second night of Dia del los Muertos. You may have noticed one of our student orgs has an ofrenda out in front of the SUB in observance right now.

Christian author, Karen Gonzales, who you may have met at the very last Neighbor Night before the pandemic, wrote on her blog today explaining Dia de los Muertos to Christians who might be concerned. She said, “Communing with our ancestors is not about seeing ghosts or talking to floating smoke. It's about the way that our ancestors are still with us--their strength, resilience, survival, and love are worth remembering. They renew us who are still living.” Tonight, we want to do some remembering, remembering the strength and resilience of those that have are no longer with us, but also our own.  We have been through more than we allow ourselves to think about, and it’s ok to take a moment a remember that too.  We want you to be able to share your story and the story of those you have lost. We may cry together, We may laugh together, we may sit in silence together, but tonight after a pandemic marked by separation, it is so good just to do any of those things together. You are not alone. You were never truly alone. Take advantage of our togetherness here, find a friend, text a friend, make a friend, and remember you are alive. And we are thankful for it.      

                                                           For All Of Us 

Sharyl West Loeung

    God is with us.

We are not alone.    

Thanks be to God.

About three and a half years ago, we wrote your brother a letter. The purpose of the letter was multifaceted. We wanted to preserve our thoughts on his name in the long run, and in the short term, we were hoping to help people understanding our reasoning in choosing his unique name. I'm wasn't sure that it helped, nor that it mattered, but several people have since asked if we'd be writing another name blog. Why of course! The naming process means a lot to both of us. We take great care in our name selection. In many ways, it is the beginning of our dreaming about who you will become.

You, sir, have three names. I know, I know, let us explain. There's always a story, right?

KHOURY

There was no intention to have a rhyme-y name with your brother. It just happened. I have always like the name Corey for a boy or Corrie for a girl, maybe it's a Boy Meets World meets Girls in Action summer reading list (shout-out to Corrie Ten Boom) thing. Thus, the name was on a considerable list of possible choices. Yes, your mother made lists. Here's where the story gets odd...

A couple of years ago we bought a bed frame and nightstands from the local furniture consignment store when we moved into our first house. At the bottom of the drawer was the tag from the manufacturer labeled "Khoury Inc., Architectural Woodwork."  As a person that loves names I was immediately curious as to the origin of the name, particularly so as the "Kh" prefix and "ry" suffix are often seen in Khmer (Cambodian) names.  I did what any good Enneagram 5 wing would do, I read and read some more. I googled pronunciation videos. I even called the Khoury Law Office in Woodway on a weekend multiple times to hear the pronunciation on their voicemail. Native pronunciation is closer to Coo-ree and Who-ree. Americanized pronunciation has shifted more towards "Corey."

What I discovered was far more significant than I could have imagined. "Khoury" (also Khouri) is a unique Arabic surname held by Christian priestly families primarily from Syria and Lebanon. There was an instant connection to the name upon learning it's origin. I had been spending quite a bit of time working with Baylor students in educating themselves and mobilizing around the Syrian refugee crisis. Moreso, however, was the deep connection your father has as a refugee himself. Much of the news coverage and responses from everyday people in our lives was bringing back to the forefront his experiences and questions about his experience. I wrote my own reflection while he wrote his:




If we had a boy anytime in the near future, we had a name, Khoury, a connection to the past and present. As the Aiden's, Jackson's, and Sophia's of the early to mid-2000's grow up people will be able to guess their age. Your name will be connected to a point in time we must never forget or repeat. In a way, you will carry your priestly name as an intercessor for those we have lost and as an advocate for those whom remain.

LEV

EZEKIEL 

Not exactly. For my 3 subscribers, let me point you over to Thinking Through Christianity where I am contributing monthly. There's also a Facebook page. With multiple contributors, it's far more entertaining than this rarely used spot. I'm sure I'll drop more personal posts here from time to time.

This past week we found out you are indeed a boy! This means we can finally settle on a name for you. We wanted to make sure you knew all the reasons your name came to be.

Your first name had first come to your mom's attention her senior year in high school when she read The Chosen by Chaim Potok. She had gone to Brooklyn the summer before on choir tour and had grown fascinated with the Hasidim. The book began a journey of cultural awakening and increased awareness that would come into play when she met your dad a few months later. Potok's My Name is Asher Lev is her favorite book.

Chaim, חַיִּים, is a Hebrew name that means life. There is something beautiful about a name that means life itself. We have come to know University Baptist Church in Waco as our home. Every Sunday our communal benediction is, "As we approach this week, may we love God, embrace beauty, and live life to the fullest." This is what we think of when we think of the "life" in your name. This is our prayer for you.

For your dad, your name represents an aspect of his history that he longs to learn more about and connect with. Your dad's father tried to preserve his family history in the names of your dad and your dad's brother. The "Khem" part in your Uncle Khemerak's name comes from four generations prior to you. Your dad's great-grandfather bore this name. The correct pronunciation of "Khem" is much more like Chaim than the 'e' would make you think. The transliteration can be blamed for the spelling differences. The meaning of Chaim in Khmer is strongly tied to Cambodia and the sense of identity as a Cambodian.

Your middle name doesn't quite have the same history as your first name. Kosal is a name we found while looking for a Cambodian name that flowed with "Chaim." While we liked how it sounded together, we also liked the meaning of the name. Kosal, in part, means clever, a trait both your parents appreciate. Your mom in particular likes the slight homage your middle name has to her brother, Benjamin. His middle name is Jacob which means "leg puller or deceiver."

Kosal also means mystical or magical which is fun.

The idea of merit, blessing, gifting, or favor is another layer of meaning for the name. There's a sense of not knowing if it's going to be a good thing or a bad thing. You just have to open it and see. That's what life is like. The life we hope you will pursue with faith and boldness.



A quick caveat on nicknames:

Right now your dad loves calling you "X" or "Baby X" because the Greek letter X is pronounced "Kai." This also leads quickly to Professor X, your mom's favorite Marvel character.

Your dad credits a lot of his development to hours upon hours of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. In the show, we frequent the Neighborhood of Make-Believe where in the center is a large tree that houses X, the Owl. We hope that unique characters like X populate the worlds that you'll come up with on your own and with your mom and dad.

So X. It could be a lot worse kiddo. 

We assume you will be called Kai quite often in the end which is ok with us! 

Rath looking not so thrilled to be paraded around the mall with a sign around his neck that reads, "Cambodia." Hello, 80s  ESL programs. Cute kid though!

Almost a couple of months ago I preached at UBC Waco a sermon on Ismael and Hagar and the stranger in our midst.Much of the sermon dealt with immigration and Rath shared some of his story of how the American church has fallen short. Some of the conversations I had in the week that followed were positive, concerned even, but skeptical  about what difference someone could make in their community when dealing with so many complexities.

I hope to continue this conversation in a later blog, but there are a couple of opportunities to learn more quickly approaching that I wanted to get out  there ASAP.

First, TOMORROW, Baylor is hosting the G92 Summit with Jim Wallis speaking in Baylor Chapel followed by an afternoon of workshops. Follow the link for more details, but here is the gist:

• 9:05
• 10:10
• 11:15

• 1:25 – 2:15 – Pastors’ event: Alexia Salvatierra will lead an event for pastors/church staff exploring ways to effectively discuss the immigration issue in a church context.
• 2:30 – 3:20 – Members of the Baylor community will share their own experiences with our country’s immigration system
• 3:35 – 4:25- Alex Nowrasteh of the Cato Institute will speak on the economics of immigration
• 4:40 – 5:30 – Dr. Carl Ruby, Consultant to G92 and the National Immigration Forum will speak on what the Scriptures say about immigration and how we should respond.

Secondly, if you have interest in learning more about how U.S. Citizenship and Immigration works Emory University will be offering a free, online 5-week course, "Citizenship and U.S. Immigration" through Coursera.. You can sign up for the class and just access the videos and other resources, or choose to participate and earn a certificate.


Finally, I want to leave you with a great video from PBS featuring Baylor's own, Esther Reyes.




I hope the conversations will continue...

Yesterday was not a very good day. Since returning to work I have heard about at least 6 arrests that took place over the break at my school. I am sure there is more that I don't know about, caught or not.  I could talk about how high school football in Texas (as 2 local high school quarterbacks face life-altering charges) panders to the already common invincibility complex that is often met without accountability. I could point to the local budget crisis caused by the rising prison population. I could talk about, how, in another part of town, the same offenses would disappear with the money to pay a good lawyer. I could analyze the national dis-proportionality of incarcerations according to race. But I am not going to delve into any of that. At the end of the day, I am not qualified. I would just be another resounding gong in the corridors of public policy, and today at least, I just don't have the energy. 

I am just sad.

I would not be the only one to make this observation: Our community is broken, and nothing is changing.

When I first heard that two of my favorite students were facing felony charges, a visceral image immediately flooded my head. It was that of a mother weeping the loss of what was to be. That image was quick to come to the forefront of my mind because it was the same image being used by my conscious to picture a scene from the play I am cutting for the school's one-act play, To Be Young, Gifted and Black, a semi-autobiographical work of Lorraine Hansberry. In the script, there is a funeral for a young black man who was killed by the police, and the mother is weeping over his casket and says, "Until twenty million black people are completely interwoven into the fabric of our society, you see, they are under no obligation to behave as if they are." These words have haunted me since I read them, and I haven't dared try to unpack what this pre-Civil Rights Act of 1964 statement means today. But I do know this. 

Be it 1863, 1963,  or 2013, mothers are still weeping. 


It is easy to look at this picture, read the accompanying article and think, "What a bunch of thugs." Can a I speak a little out of turn and say they were boys who wanted to be nurses. Boys who wanted to play college ball. Boys who said "Yes M'am." Now they are men who may disappear as only numbers. Men who are statistics. The comments below their pictures (KXXV) are already making sure of that objectification.




Tomorrow I will probably be mad at their stupidity, mad at the system, mad that I'm not making a difference, mad that it will happen again, but today I am just sad.