Last week, our congregation produced what I believe is the first requiem written to honor those who have died of Covid.
In a way Geri DeMasi’s composition answers the question raised by my wife, Leanne. "Chuck," she asked, "why are we not remembering these people?" It was late May in 2020. The number of the Covid dead approached the then unthinkable toll of 100,000.
That Sunday, May 24, the New York Times published a front page with many of their names. Leanne and I taped the Times page to our garage door for the neighbors to see, and we were accused of making a political statement. In our polarized society, honoring the dead is political.
Times editors and reporters undertook a prodigious editorial task to gather the names and comb obituaries in newspapers throughout the country for a humanizing snip of information.
"Jorge Caseles, 75, Manchester, Conn. Put himself through college." or
"Alan Lund, 81, Washington, Conductor with the most amazing ear."
Six months later, the Claremont Courier would report:
"Leanne Bauman Kerchner, 79, Teacher, Mother, Friend;" not dead of Covid, but perhaps she was collateral damage, the victim of an overtaxed health care system.
• • • •
"Why are we not remembering these people," she had asked?
"It's not convenient, dear." I would reply.
We want normalcy rather than plague. So, we rush to forget. We did this in the wake of the 1918-1919 flu epidemic that killed my grandfather. We rushed to forget after the Black Death and 16th Century plagues. "Covid's over," my luncheon companion remarked recently as the shoppers with their Lululemon stretch pants and cute dogs walked through the mall.
We rush to forget because there is pain in remembering: a million Covid dead in our country, six million worldwide.
How do we process the pain? Some of us rage for someone to blame. It must be Joe Biden’s fault, or Donald Trumps’ or Anthony Fachi’s; someone is supposed to make things right.
But thoughtful, compassionate Christians draw on our ancient rituals, adapting them to the circumstance. When Leanne died, Claremont Presbyterian Church used its ingenuity to form its first full scale online memorial service. We borrowed music from Geri, from my friend Kim Richmond, from a flashmob in Spain, and from my brother Art.
With John Watts' help we captured worlds from Karen, tributes from family and friends. No one could be in this sanctuary in person, but more than 200 people attended from around the world: from Seattle and Santa Cruz, Boston and Florida, London and Lisbon, Oslo and Mumbai. We honored and remembered her applying imagination and ingenuity to our traditional liturgy.
That same spirit of Christian ingenuity is present with us today in the requiem. Using the ancient form of the Latin Mass, Geri DeMasi composed 93 pages of music, note by note. Karen Sapio paired the music with newspaper headlines and personal recollections. If you were not able to attend in person, here is a link to a YouTube recording.
“Chuck, why are we not remembering these people,” Leanne asked.
“We are, dear. Listen to the music.”
Banner Photo: New York Times front page listing Covid dead, May 24, 2020.