| You’ve probably seen the Facebook memes implying that quarantine is some sort of society-wide reset, just the thing we all needed to get our priorities on track. “We are kinder, more loving, and more appreciative of human connection than ever before,” one post declared. “We’re more connected in our relationships because all we’ve been able to do is communicate.” They posit a world where the shutdown will ultimately serve as a force for good since we will become closer with our families, friendlier with our neighbors, and reconnected with friends and relatives. It’s true that being stuck at home has led me to talk more with faraway friends. Schedules cleared by the coronavirus, we’ve all got more time to chat. I’ve seen faces of folks I usually just swap texts with. I’m talking with them for an hour or two, and then we’re setting a date to talk again. Even when I called a college friend by accident over the weekend, he still wanted to catch up and discuss Easter plans. The shared experience of facing the pandemic has served as an instant point of connection, no matter who you’re talking to. Rather than the awkward transition of catching up after years, we can immediately jump to asking about how we’ve been handling social distancing and other adjustments. On some level, there is a kind of feel-good, we’re-all-in-this-together aspect to this, the sentiment the Facebook memes want to celebrate. But these conversations have also revealed to me the breadth of the struggle that has come with the coronavirus. My favorite high school teacher, who joined a few of us on Zoom last week, lamented the confusion over plans for the rest of the year and the disappointment from students who wouldn’t dance at prom or walk the stage at graduation. My grad school roommate told stories from the VA hospital where she works as a psychologist and the ICU where her brother works as a doctor. Another friend was scared for her parents, who are still forced to work retail jobs where shoppers continue to come in groups, ignore social distancing, and don’t wear masks. Reconnecting with friends has deepened my concern and heartache, adding to the stories from my own community and those reported in the news. The challenge becomes even more wrenching when we think on global scale—the subject of CT’s May cover story, which went online early this week. In the piece, our managing editor Andy Olsen asks the question, “Who is my COVID-19 neighbor?” In other words, how can we care for the needs of people literally next door, when the scope of suffering expands across our country and around the world? It’s an important challenge for the global body of Christ to consider during these times. On Easter, my church shared a video with greetings from former members from all over the US as well as three foreign countries. I teared up at the surprise. I thought of all these people, many faces I recognized, taking time out of their challenges at home and their jobs in hospitals and churches and the military to chat and say hello to our congregation. But the joy on their faces was so clear—here were people from all over who were making it through and rallying around the Easter message. It was such an example of Christian hope and confidence in the face of crisis, the kind of Resurrection remembrance we must keep going beyond Easter. Southern Seminary professor Jarvis J. Williams writes: Even during this inexplicable time of suffering like we’ve never seen before, when death seems to span the globe and lurk right next door, Christians must remember we are more than conquerors through Christ (Rom. 8:31–39). We are united to God’s love in Jesus Christ by faith because he died for our sins, rose from the dead, and sits at God’s right hand reigning in triumphant victory over the power of sin and death (Col. 1–2). Amen and amen. Kate | 