Covid: The Great Ordeal
Commssioned by Rev. Tricia Templeton for St. Dunstan's Episcopal Church Atlanta, GA in honor of her Husband Joe Monti, and those who died from the Covid-19 Pandemic. This icon , it the style of a "Vita", made up of 23 individual panels, showing scenes we all may have experienced during the pandemic. On Sunday March 16th, 2025 members of St. Dunstan's finished the icon by placing their thumbs in gold leaf and placing the gold on one of the panels that meant something to them. ( Even Beppy the Church cat contributed)
It is easy to try and push so many painful memories aside. However, after 5 years it is important to remember the millions who died of the Covid-19. Those who still mourn, those who still suffer from long Covid, the scientists who worked tirelessly to discover a vaccine, all the first responders, teachers, and grocery and drug store works, janitors and restaurant staff and delivery people and who worked to keep our communities, schools, and services going through months of isolation. We give thanks to all those who answered calls and were "Mother Hens' to their neighbors, and feeding the hungry and providing meals and shelter to the evicted, unhoused, and most vulnerable people on the streets. May this icon remind us that we are all made in God's Image.
Sermon Preached March 16th, 2025 at St. Dunstan's Episcopal Chruch, Atlanta, GA. Luke 13:31-35
"It’s an honor for my partner and I to be with all of you here at St. Dunstan’s today. Mother Tricia, Bishop Wright, Family and Friends. But also, the many other people who are not with us now but whose lives live on in us through us loving them we give thanks.
For over 2 years Mother Tricia and I have been collaborating, thinking through, and praying over this icon. However, many other people, like my partner Evie and friends across the country helped pray and enter a holy pondering, working through the idea of this icon for a long time.
The idea was to honor Mother Tricia’s husband Joe and the many others who died across the world from the Covid -19 pandemic.
But honestly how does one contain and capture such a varied yet universal event that happened to everyone into one image?
We struggled for over 7 months to come up with an image. It wasn’t until a visit to an art museum with some friends that I saw a vita icon.
Now for anyone who doesn’t know. Icons are paintings of Jesus, Mary and the saints. Theological form and style coming from the eastern church. Using paint and gold leaf, creating a halo or nimbi the icon was seen as a window into the life of a saint. Using symbols and metaphors to tell us who this saint was. In an age when we are surrounded by images icons can teach us to slow down and observe.
The Saint we saw that day was St. Nicholas holding the gospel book. But in this case surrounding him on the boarder was scenes of his life. Miracles, caring for orphans and widows, and rescuing sailors. It is called a vita icon meaning “life” or ‘scenes of a life.’
Seeing this made us think what if the icon was not the scene of one life but all our lives and what many of us experienced during the pandemic.
It’s these scenes sanctified in gold that contain and hold those lives of people, like Joe, Fred and others that we lost during that time.
Today as I reflect on painting these faces and these scenes the last year, I can’t help but be struck by the beauty of the Gospel reading we are given this Sunday to present and unveil this new icon with you.
Like many of you here today, for my partner Evie and I, March 2020, and the start of the Pandemic was a time of deep uncertainty, panic, and fear.
Many of us turned to images on our tv, computer and phone screens to understand and see what was going on.
Glimpses of empty streets, and empty grocery shelves, overflowing hospitals and long lines for gas and food instilled horror for many.
There was so much loss. Still to this day there is so much healing to do.
I was afraid. I felt in danger. I felt scared.
If I’m truly being honest the thing was it really didn’t help me when anyone said, stuff like today’s scripture readings, “fear not. Whom shall you fear? BE not afraid! Blah blah.
I realize many people could have potentially felt calmer or level headed but the danger always felt real.
When I look back at that time the one thing that made me have any inkling of hope was to think about the people I loved. The people who gave me the most comfort said, “Hey Kelly I’m scared too but I’m here.”
In today’s gospel Jesus is approached by the Pharisees and they are like’” Hey Jesus, so, Herod really wants to kill you,”
It’s important to note that ultimately Jesus is not afraid of Herod. He calls him a fox (now Saint Dunstan’s I know the meaning the fox has to you but let’s just assume that Jesus is calling Herod a bad fox)
Then Jesus goes on calling himself a Mother Hen protecting her chicks. How he wishes he could shield Jerusalem but they will not listen.
There is much to say about this passage, but for today let it sink in that in a moment where a bunch of Pharisees come to threaten Jesus, Jesus calls Herod a fox, a predator, and himself, a vulnerable, feeble, Mother Hen with her frightened babies.
As an artist, I’m always communicating with images and Jesus did the same thing. I’d like to suggest today that by Jesus calling himself this beautiful feminine mothering metaphor he was doubling down being human with us. Jesus humbling himself to gather us all in. He knows the road to Jerusalem could lead to destruction and death. I can’t help but think of stories of I’ve heard after wildfires in Oklahoma of people finding the charred dead body of a prairie chicken and upon inspection finding several baby chicks still alive.
What we can’t miss is that although Jesus does not fear Herod there is still the presence of fear, and of death.
But here’s the real beauty of this metaphor. Most of us could assume that the opposite of fear is bravery. I’d like to suggest that Jesus is telling us that the opposite of fear is actually love.
The Mothering Hen of God can be in danger, for danger is not often optional, she may be surrounded by the fires of a wildfire, or circled by a torrent of ravenous foxes, and still very well may be afraid, but she chooses to embrace her vulnerable scared chicks with love.
In his book, “ Be Not Afraid: Facing Fear With Faith” Rev. Sam Wells observes that "in some ways" Christians should think that fear is a good thing. It is so because, as Wells argues, what we fear can also be an indication of what we love. The good news is that our God refused to abandon us, making it possible for us to live lives determined by our loves and not by misplaced fears.
There is much to say about the perverse fear and illusions of safety many try to protect ourselves with in America. The sad truth is that the tyrants and Herod’s of this world offer this safety to us with the absence of love. In the name of freedom and bravery.
This isn’t the way of the Mothering Hen of God.
But it is potentially the images that are and not in this painting we hope can be icons of this love made visible:
it looks like the nurses who held strangers’ hands as they died during the pandemic. The many healthcare workers showing up day after day amongst so much pain.
A father quietly working 3 jobs to make rent for his family.
The many volunteers who gathered resources and food to hand out again and again.
It was the families traveling great distances to see loved ones even through glass windows.
The grandmothers praying unceasingly for their children and grand babies
People stayed sick at home to protect others.
The many therapists who helped people wade through depression, fear, trauma and loss.
The teachers, professors, and mentors who still showed up to teach in an unprecedented way.
It was a friend sending a letter or setting up a zoom call simply to hear your voice and see your face letting you know they were with you even though in reality they were across the country or world.
The spirit of the Mothering Hen of God unfolding our wings around each other with love is within all of us and are often expressed in the seemingly most ordinary acts. Just like Jesus’ parables, this metaphor is meant to be lived.
In our current time when there is still so much uncertainty, fear, and rumors of wars, may we too be Mother Hens protecting the most vulnerable among us. The sick, the dying, the poor the oppressed, the forgotten, the foreigner and the stranger.
Danger will still exist. But It’s okay to be afraid, simply know you are loved and can choose to be love and be that love for one another.
This is the response Jesus is asking of us. This is the way of the Mothering Hen of God.
Amen."