Church in the Time of COVID-19

This month, before our plans were changed, we were going to be focused on the theme of abundance and generosity. But now we’re having to give so much up because of this pandemic: our usual routines, the physical presence of co-workers and classmates and teachers, our visits with friends and extended family, and our peace of mind, to name a few.

Some of us are so busy trying to work from home and keep our children productively occupied that we may not have had time or space to feel our feelings. We are experiencing a scarcity of time and space.

Others of us wake each morning faced with the terrifying vastness of yet another unstructured, lonely day ahead. The scarcity of connection may feel particularly painful for us. And we may find ourselves unable to avoid feeling our feelings.

There is also a scarcity of certainty, of predictability. When will we see our friends again? What can’t the school play or dance show or concert go on like it was supposed to? Will I be able to have my birthday party with friends in June? And, of course, when will we be able to be back in our sanctuary together?

Someone joked on Twitter recently that he hadn’t intended to give up quite this much for Lent, which made me laugh out loud. And it’s true.

But the sense of isolation that I know many of us are feeling makes me think of the little island from the story “The Island and the Moon” by Kristin Maier. What a perfect story that is for us this week. Right now, this virus is like a rising tide that is keeping us apart from one another just as the little island was separated from the mainland.

But we have also seen great abundance during the initial weeks of our social distancing. We’ve seen an abundance of care, compassion, and creativity. People and organizations have been sharing resources, neighbors have been supporting neighbors, and neighborhoods supporting their local businesses. People have been shopping for one another, sharing beauty and the arts, using new platforms for teaching old skills, making masks, and sharing ideas for parenting, for working at home, for creating online worship.

People have been remarkably generous with one another. And we have begun to find new ways to connect with each another, to break through that sense of isolation and to close the distance between us. It’s been like the water of the story following the gravitational pull of the moon, and the tide receding, and the big shore reaching out to the little island once again.

And the good news is – that the rising tide of the virus will recede, and we will be able to touch each other’s lives in the familiar ways again. We just don’t know when that will be. But it will be.

In the Tao te Ching, it is written, “Life is a series of changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow, let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” Those words have brought me some comfort this week. I’ve also been thinking about the Buddha, who said, “I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, and compassion. These three are your greatest treasures.”

The staff and I – along with our colleagues all around the country – have spent so much time at the beginning of this COVID-19 pandemic thinking about how to DO church differently. But at some point – probably after re-reading those words from the Buddha, I was reminded that figuring out how to DO church isn’t as important as remembering how to BE church.

I’m not the first to have said this, and I won’t be the last, but “church” isn’t someplace we go, it isn’t a building. Church is something we are. In the Bible, the word “church” always refers to people not to a place. Church is a body of people united, bound together by our love and affection and care for one another and by our shared values.

I saw a cartoon this week by Dave Walker on the website cartoonchurch.com that really resonated with me. It is a simple line drawing of a street, a neighborhood, with people going about their business while appropriately distanced from one another.

Courtesy of Dave Walker of cartoonchurch.com

There is a woman riding a bicycle. A man carrying his briefcase. A person walking a dog. Another carrying two grocery bags. There is someone driving a car. And there are people inside of the buildings, too, working, watching, and waiting.

At the top of the cartoon, the caption reads: “Where the Church Is.” And there are arrows labeled with the word “here” that point to each and every one of the people. Where is the church? It is where you are. And you. And you. And me. Our challenge is to remember that we each ARE the church and to figure out how to BE the church even while we are physically away from the building and one another.

In the time of the early church before there were big church buildings, people met in public squares and in people’s houses. Today we can’t do either. And so we are challenged to find new ways of gathering. One simple way to stay connected even while we are apart is to practice being mindful of one another. That is, to practice calling one another to mind each day and intentionally wishing one another well. Holding one another in our hearts. Sending to each other our love and our prayers.

For some, this may already be part of an existing prayer or meditation practice. For others, this may be a new thing, yet to be developed. But whatever form it takes, new or renewed, I invite you to join me this week and in the weeks to come. Join me in closing the heart distance between us even though we are still, for now, apart…

In the meantime:

May you be safe.
May you stay healthy.
May you be free from fear.
And may you know that you are loved.

©2020 Rev. Wendy L. Bell