How can we feel we are together when we are told to stay in our homes as much as possible, to treat each other as if you (or me) are infected with a deadly disease, where a hug or even a handshake can be the final link in a chain that leads to the death of someone’s grandmother?

If there was any comfort in the days of 9/11, it was that we could feel togetherness. I remember clearly that evening, here in Los Alamos. Without any organization or announcement, it seemed the whole community gathered around Ashley Pond, to cry together and console each other about a world that had turned upside down. The punctuation of a singular event, the common experience of watching those horrific pictures broadcast on the TV, made clear that we were now at war with an external enemy, and we could unite and fight back.

It is so different now. The enemy is not a foe halfway around the world, but rather an invisible but deadly fog in our midst. What can each of us do? Who are we supposed to hate? It is a faceless enemy, and it hovers over us like the proverbial Angel of Death.

The ancient Israelites also faced the Angel of Death during the biblical Exodus from Egypt, and I think the story of their redemption has lessons for us in these horrifying times. Maybe it is Providential to look to this story, because in a few weeks begins Passover, the Jewish holiday commemorating this exodus and liberation.

Jews around the world begin the holiday week with a ceremonial dinner, called the Passover Seder, and it is traditional to invite family, friends, and neighbors to share in the retelling of the liberation from bondage through miracles and plagues. This evening we are to feel as if we ourselves begin as slaves, and part of this immersion is eating Matzah, a plain cracker that tradition tells us was the plain food of slaves, “the bread of affliction.” Through the evening, the Seder takes us from coming into bondage in Egypt, through the repeated conflicts between Moses and Pharaoh, to the Parting of the Sea, and even to a future time when all peoples will be redeemed and the Days of Days will come.

And, yes, it includes the Ten Plagues, when you may remember that as Pharaoh refuses to free the Israelites, God sends a wave of destruction, and this part of the story forms the most solemn part of the Seder. As each plague is announced, a drop of red wine is drawn from our cups, symbolizing the ensuing devastation, culminating in the final and most destructive plague, the death of the first-born of each Egyptian family. But the Israelite families were spared because they were instructed to mark their doorposts with blood from the paschal lamb, so that the Angel of Death would pass over their homes.

Marking the doorposts was a sign of solidarity among the Israelites, but was also a death wish upon the Egyptians. But, unlike in the Passover story, the coronavirus plague is not striking each home individually so that we may isolate ourselves. There is nothing we can do so it will pass over us, and only strike enemies. It is a plague that requires all of us to protect not just our own home.  It is a plague where we must express our love to our families, our friends and our neighbors by protecting them as well.

So, if we cannot paint our doorposts, what can we do? We must paint everyone’s doorposts and there is no bloody lamb involved.

• Stay at home as much you can and avoid crowds; let us not be part of a chain of infection that leads to sickness or death.
• Purchase what you need, but be patient and generous. Offer to add to your shopping list necessities of your neighbors, and leave those on their doorstep.
• Reconnect with a friend or relative. “How are you doing?” means something now.
• There are many ways to support your favorite local businesses. Ask if you can order by phone from them. Buy a big gift card from them (how much would you buy from them in the next six months or a year?) and put it aside for when they are fully back in business. It gives them some resources for the present, and trust in their future. If your barber, pet groomer, masseuse, etc. doesn’t do gift cards, just send them a check for a year’s worth of service. You’ll figure it out later. Or, send a note of thanks with a check for the service people who assist you and are not able to during this time (i.e. housekeepers, lawn maintenance, etc.)
• Offer to tutor via video the children of friends and family who have been forced into homeschooling.
• Rummage through your basement and garage and look for those precious N95 masks.
• Show your elderly neighbor over the phone how to get connected to video-chat so they can connect with the outside world.
• Greet and thank the employees at the grocery store for their continued service, and be sure to wave and greet people you may pass on the street. 
• If you are handy with a sewing machine, make some masks for our health workers.
• Send cards and notes to remind people they are in your thoughts…and loved, or call and read devotionals, short stories or a good book to a lonely friend over the phone.
• Thank your mail carrier and UPS/FedEx person for their continued assistance.
• Give an anonymous gift to someone you know who is financially struggling, and keep a watchful eye on your neighbor who may be fragile. 
• Send a surprise gift via mail-order to someone.
• If you get that check from the feds, see if you really need it, and if not, forward it to a nonprofit that is in the front lines helping those most affected.
• Finally, take care of yourself! – so if you do come down with the COVID-19 disease, maybe you will recover quickly, without going to the hospital, and taking up resources.

The evening of April 8 will be spent alone in our home, just Terry and I, maybe a phone call or video-chat will connect us with our loved ones. Much as we would like such a miracle, we cannot mark our homes so that the coronavirus will pass over our homes, and strike the Egyptian first-born instead. There are no Egyptians in this plague.

It is not that type of plague. It is not a plague to be protected by Hate, but a plague to be cured by Love.