The Triumph of Death is an oil panel painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder painted circa 1562. The painting shows a panorama of an army of skeletons wreaking havoc across a blackened, desolate landscape. Fires burn in the distance, and the sea is littered with shipwrecks. The Triumph of Death captured perhaps the greatest event of mass human suffering in the history of civilization: the Black Death (1346–1353). Bouts of plague ravaged Europe intermittently from at least 430-1750; however, it was the period of the Black Death that induced the greatest suffering, claimed the greatest toll of life, and laid the groundwork for the fundamental transformation of the world’s economic and social systems.
Maggie Astor of the New York Times posted an interesting piece – which was interesting all on its own, but is perhaps more interesting given President Biden’s announced covid-19 mandates and actions – and the inevitable push back against them. Ms. Astor’s point is essentially that we as a nation…. “been there, done that.” I would have linked to the article, but that was not feasible – and so I present her work.
When the 1960s came around, the “Greatest Generation” – those men and women who served during World War II were still largely and stoically silent about their wartime experiences – but the television networks began television shows about the war. Series such as “Combat,” “12 O’Clock High,” and “Men at War” became staples of prime time viewing. Knowing things about WWII became part and parcel of determining one’s status within the pack (and here I am referring to Cub Scouts). Sure, you might be able to identify the German Messerschmidt 109 fighter aircraft from a flash card, but the real test was could you identify the difference between 109-C and the 109-G series (except the 109-G6 which was soooo… obvious). Clearly such things were critical to national defense among the Cub Scouts. Or so it seemed at the time. 
This past week, the Commonwealth of Virginia announced that it would immediately implement the just announced CDC guidelines which stated that fully vaccinated individuals do not have to wear masks in outdoor or most indoor settings, except on public transit, in health care facilities, and in congregate settings. Throughout the pandemic at national, state and local levels that last phrase “congregate settings” have included churches, synagogues, mosques, and other places of worship. Following on the heels of the Commonwealth’s announcement, our local diocese announced that because of some ambiguity in the announcement, that we were to not inhibit or challenge people who wanted to not wear masks during the celebration of Mass. While we did not agree that there was ambiguity, we complied. As folks and families approached the doors of the church they were not asked if they were vaccinated, but were simply informed that “fully vaccinated people were not required to wear masks but were also free to wear them if they desired.”
Risk is one of those things we don’t think about, are adverse to in different measures. It is unavoidable. We would rather not have any, and yet are surrounded by it, and sometimes we are so focused on it that we can think of little else. It has always been one of the things I wonder about. Its one of the things financial advisors try to discern about your investment posture: risk avoidance or acceptance. It’s something people wonder about submariners. Its one of the things economists specialize in. It is part of life and is unavoidable – so sometimes it is easier to ignore. But I like to read about it from time to time.
From 
One of my morning rituals for some time now has been, in the wee hours of the morning before dawn, to pray the morning prayer (lauds) of Office of the Dead. It is one of the prayer cycles for the repose of a soul found in the Divine Office of the Catholic Church, also called the “Liturgy of the Hours.” You can find versions online. The morning prayer consists of Psalm 51; 