My church is in the path of a major light rail development project that has transformed half of our front lot into a construction zone. Machines and materials largely block the view of the church from the street and the path of construction has taken away our sign. Late last year, with Christmas approaching, I posted on our Facebook page that we remained open for worship and service in the community despite appearances to the contrary.
Oh, how much has changed in so short a time.
Early Palm Sunday morning, I was writing a new post, updating the congregation on the steps our church has taken in response to the spread of the coronavirus. Like many churches, our worship services and educational opportunities have moved online. We’re attempting to meet the pastoral care needs of the congregation from a distance—via phone, text, and email. Our youth group is meeting online. Our choir is practicing virtually. Our children have received Bible study packets at home. We are continuing to find ways to meet financial and other needs in our community.
In short, we remain open though in a different way than before the pandemic. Amid the chaos of our current reality, our mission and ministry will continue because God remains active in our world and present in our midst.
I encouraged our members to stay safe, to practice social distancing, to pray for the health and protection of each other and especially for those on the front lines of this pandemic—doctors, nurses, hospital chaplains, and first responders. I encouraged them to keep the faith, to fight the good fight, to not lose hope.
I was writing to myself as much to the members of my church.
Last weekend, my wife, who is a VA hospital chaplain, and I spoke with our oldest son about what he would need to do in the event we both become sick and require hospitalization. We discussed how to advocate for us given the decisions doctors in our area may soon face in crisis care situations when not enough resources are available to meet the needs of all. We reviewed our will and showed him where he could find important documents and who to reach out to should he become the guardian of his brothers. We assured him we are taking all sensible precautions and that we are doing everything in our power not to get sick. But we know tomorrow is not promised anyone and we want to be as prepared as possible.
Before his betrayal and arrest, Jesus gathered his disciples to prepare them for what was coming. According to the Gospel of John, he spoke at length and the disciples seemed startled that he spoke plainly to them. “Now we know that you know all things and do not need anyone to question you; this is why we believe that you came from God,” they said. (John 16:30 ESV)
Jesus still had his doubts about the disciples. “Do you now believe?” he asked in return. “Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone.” (John 16:32 ESV).
This Holy Week, Christians find themselves scattered like the first disciples, each to their own homes. This is as it should be given the threat this pandemic poses. And yet, amid the fear and anxiety of whether we or our loved ones will become sick, amid difficult conversations with our children and others about worst-case scenarios, amid the worry of our children over something so present yet so imperceptible as this virus—have we left Jesus alone?
If I am honest with myself, I was scattered in my own home before the arrival of the coronavirus. If I am honest with myself, I have left Jesus alone as the disciples did. I have allowed fear for my own safety and security to get the better of me. I have made decisions based on what my relationship with Jesus might cost me. I have not always trusted in the power of love to bear all things and to endure all things—even death.
The first Holy Week, Jesus spoke plainly to his disciples of what was to come and of where he was going, of the spirit who would come after him to be our helper and guide, and of the Father who would remain with him through it all.
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 ESV).
Pandemic or no, in the world we have tribulation. Do not be discouraged. Take heart. Keep the faith. Fight the good fight. Do not lose hope. Speak plainly to those you love. Above all remember—in Jesus there is peace and Jesus has overcome the world.
Photo by Federico Tasin on Unsplash
My church is in the path of a major light rail development project that has transformed half of our front lot into a construction zone. Machines and materials largely block the view of the church from the street and the path of construction has taken away our sign. Late last year, with Christmas approaching, I posted on our Facebook page that we remained open for worship and service in the community despite appearances to the contrary.
Oh, how much has changed in so short a time.
Early Palm Sunday morning, I was writing a new post, updating the congregation on the steps our church has taken in response to the spread of the coronavirus. Like many churches, our worship services and educational opportunities have moved online. We’re attempting to meet the pastoral care needs of the congregation from a distance—via phone, text, and email. Our youth group is meeting online. Our choir is practicing virtually. Our children have received Bible study packets at home. We are continuing to find ways to meet financial and other needs in our community.
In short, we remain open though in a different way than before the pandemic. Amid the chaos of our current reality, our mission and ministry will continue because God remains active in our world and present in our midst.
I encouraged our members to stay safe, to practice social distancing, to pray for the health and protection of each other and especially for those on the front lines of this pandemic—doctors, nurses, hospital chaplains, and first responders. I encouraged them to keep the faith, to fight the good fight, to not lose hope.
I was writing to myself as much to the members of my church.
Last weekend, my wife, who is a VA hospital chaplain, and I spoke with our oldest son about what he would need to do in the event we both become sick and require hospitalization. We discussed how to advocate for us given the decisions doctors in our area may soon face in crisis care situations when not enough resources are available to meet the needs of all. We reviewed our will and showed him where he could find important documents and who to reach out to should he become the guardian of his brothers. We assured him we are taking all sensible precautions and that we are doing everything in our power not to get sick. But we know tomorrow is not promised anyone and we want to be as prepared as possible.
Before his betrayal and arrest, Jesus gathered his disciples to prepare them for what was coming. According to the Gospel of John, he spoke at length and the disciples seemed startled that he spoke plainly to them. “Now we know that you know all things and do not need anyone to question you; this is why we believe that you came from God,” they said. (John 16:30 ESV)
Jesus still had his doubts about the disciples. “Do you now believe?” he asked in return. “Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone.” (John 16:32 ESV).
This Holy Week, Christians find themselves scattered like the first disciples, each to their own homes. This is as it should be given the threat this pandemic poses. And yet, amid the fear and anxiety of whether we or our loved ones will become sick, amid difficult conversations with our children and others about worst-case scenarios, amid the worry of our children over something so present yet so imperceptible as this virus—have we left Jesus alone?
If I am honest with myself, I was scattered in my own home before the arrival of the coronavirus. If I am honest with myself, I have left Jesus alone as the disciples did. I have allowed fear for my own safety and security to get the better of me. I have made decisions based on what my relationship with Jesus might cost me. I have not always trusted in the power of love to bear all things and to endure all things—even death.
The first Holy Week, Jesus spoke plainly to his disciples of what was to come and of where he was going, of the spirit who would come after him to be our helper and guide, and of the Father who would remain with him through it all.
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 ESV).
Pandemic or no, in the world we have tribulation. Do not be discouraged. Take heart. Keep the faith. Fight the good fight. Do not lose hope. Speak plainly to those you love. Above all remember—in Jesus there is peace and Jesus has overcome the world.
Photo by Federico Tasin on Unsplash