I imagine many of us, if asked, would be able to describe in some detail where we were when significant world events happened. For instance, I vividly recall hanging out with my friends in the schoolyard in Junior High when someone came running up to tell us that John Lennon had died. I was a bit young to be a Beatles fan and, embarrassing as it was for me later, I even remember asking: “who’s John Lennon?” I remember being in our home in Traytown, NL, when news of Lady Diana’s death became public. My husband and I had overnight guests, strangers in fact, as our neighbours who ran a B&B needed an extra room for a couple who were visiting the Island. And when planes were flown into the twin towers on 9-11, I still recall the United Church Minister arriving at the back door of the Rectory in Shelburne in an anxious state to tell me the news. We’d only arrived about a month before and I remember struggling to figure out what I would say that Sunday to parishioners I hardly knew.
As we approach the one-year anniversary of the “lockdown,” many of us may be reflecting on where we were this time last year: when Covid-19 was declared a global pandemic; when our province, or our country, declared a State of Emergency; or, when our church buildings were closed and in-person activities were suspended in an effort to contain the spread of this virus. I remember it well. I was taking a week off to spend March break with our kids. My daughter would be graduating from high school in June and we knew it was the last March break we would share together. However, what we couldn’t have anticipated then was that our kids would not return to school for the remainder of that academic year. Even now, it seems incomprehensible. There was so much we didn’t know, and that state of unknowing led to fear and uncertainty. Sometimes it still does.
A Prayer in a Time of Pandemic:
Loving God, whose peace passes all our understanding; as we face this present pandemic, and experience fear and anxiety, may we hear your voice, bringing calm to the storms of our time. Strengthen those who work to limit the spread of infection, and those who seek to care for the sick, and keep us mindful of those most vulnerable. May we shape our living to protect one another, and may our changing habits, practices and sacrifices, be for the greater love of our community and all your people. Amen.
Diocese of Niagara
I remember scrambling to pull together some form of worship service that could be shared remotely. Surely there was some way we could reassure parishioners that the Church was still here, even if the building was closed. I, like so many others, had to learn new skills. We all had to adapt quickly. There was no drill, no instruction manual, and little time to prepare. A year in, we are still learning and adapting. We are (hopefully) figuring out what is most important about what we do – and who we are – as God’s Church. We are discovering fresh strengths and the courage to reach out beyond the walls of our buildings in new ways. We are learning how to invite new people into Christian community. We are growing in our understanding of what it means to love our neighbours as ourselves; to act selflessly for the good of others, which is what Christ did.
As we look back years from now, I hope we will remember not only where we were “when,” but how the Church responded in this time: with gratitude for frontline workers and prayers for them and all whose lives were personally touched by Covid-19; with new ways of “being church” and sharing the love and care of Christ. I hope we will remember the wonder we felt at hearing or watching worship services streaming through our smart phones and computers, or maybe even our car stereos, keeping us connected with God and one another in these uncertain times. I hope we will remember the comfort we felt knowing that we could still share in Bible study or prayer gatherings online or using print resources, even though we were advised to “stay the blazes home,” and that there were biblical stories that could help us live well and learn much in this time of physical separation from one another. I hope we will remember how people reconnected with their faith or discovered it for the first time because someone shared a link with them, or called them to see how they were doing, or dropped off a card or a newsletter (or maybe even a mask) to let them know they hadn’t been forgotten. I hope we will remember our joy at gathering in-person in community in whatever ways and places and with whatever numbers we could, and in sharing the Eucharist in community again – yet differently – after many months when that just wasn’t possible. I hope we will remember joining together in worship virtually with people from across our parishes, across the Diocese, across the country and even across the globe, sitting down at our own kitchen tables or prayer corners in such different places, yet united in Christ across space and time. Speaking personally, I hope I will remember how helpful it was to be able to meet and pray and worship online with clergy and parishioners across the Diocese, as well as with my fellow bishops, when travelling restrictions and gathering limits made it either impossible or inadvisable to be together in-person.
As we’ve responded to the challenges this pandemic has presented and the questions it has raised for us, I hope we can feel confident that our churches – our people – still have a message to share with the world. And while it may be hard to accept the reality that we cannot simply return to the way things were after the threat of this pandemic is over, may we trust that we are being shaped and formed into the church God needs us to become. May we live faithfully (and not fearfully) into the future and may the stories we tell about this time reflect the transformation, growth and renewed hope that we have witnessed and experienced as God’s people.
Every blessing as we mark this turning of time. As the conclusion of one of my favourite prayers reminds us:
“Let us look expectantly to a new day, new joys, new possibilities.”
(Night Prayer: An Order for Compline, p. 22. ABC Publishing: Anglican Book Centre, 2001)
Peace and grace be yours,
Bishop Sandra
