Rockin' the Fellowship in the Time of COVID

That first week when we locked down (was that really seven months ago?) a parishioner offered his conference call account. We worshiped that Sunday on telephone, about twenty of us, gathered around our cell phones and landlines, as we prayed Morning Prayer. The sound quality was terrible, feedback, static... It felt like we were back in the blitz, huddled around the wireless, craning to hear Winston Churchill. At the end of the service, church leaders asked for feedback. We were universally ecstatic. We heard each other's voices! We can do this!

Each week got a little better. We learned the value of the mute button. We migrated to Zoom. We added music on Youtube. Yes, there are glitches. A couple who are not muted start bickering. A reader forgets to unmute. A song that the tech person thought had been cued up begins with an ad. We're still learning. We're fine.

We are also still astounded and delighted to see and hear each other every week. In fact, we are growing. People join us from around the country. Our shut-ins are back in our midst. A local person, someone who wants to worship safely, who wants a congregation where every member counts, has found us. 

Every member does count. We count first in our concern that everybody's life is preserved through this pandemic. But that is simply the latest expression of the fellowship in which everybody has always counted.

As for me, while I am more or less okay lately, before the pandemic I couldn't always manage the energy it takes me to deal with a church full of people. People with mental illness do disappear from church. The Passing of the Peace is hard for some of us. But from the security of my home, I have missed just one Sunday since March. 

We open the mic for holy chaos at the peace, and a child starts chanting the word, sixty beats to a minute. The worship leader and tech person don't miss a beat. We roll with it. Even more indicative of the kind of fellowship we are, her mom rolls with it. Every member is a minister at St. Andrew's. We all lean into the blessing that we receive from a four-year-old.

Worship ends by sending out the ministers of God's love to share that love, with announcements and discussion of what we can be doing next. We have a blessing box outside our building, a little food pantry. We get the updates, "Cans with flip-top cans are best -- our homeless don't have can openers. Feel free to take away the dry beans..." We hear about neighbors who have joined our fellowship of the blessing box, a lady who drives by to check it out and see what is needed, what she needs to add to her list on her way to the grocery store.

We were ready for the pandemic. We already had it in us. Oh, there are details and we are still learning. But throwing us out of the building has unleashed even more creative energy than a mutual ministry congregation already has.

Love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers (Romans 12:10-13).

Oh, and if you'd like to join us on Sunday, 10 AM PST, drop a private comment at my other website (click here), and I'll send you our link.