I remember when I was very little learning the children's rhyme where you use your fingers and say "Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people." Walking through the church lately where the halls empty, where it's too dark, too clean, and too quiet, I long to have the music back, to hear crying babies; I miss the sounds of children running the halls and the hugs of friends. This is now how things are supposed to be...
I grew up in the church. Literally. The churches my dad served were my playgrounds after school and I knew ALL the best hiding places. :) And of course now, I work at a church. So it's completely foreign to have a year of not worshiping together, not serving together, not being together. It's foreign to not see the community to whom we belong. We are all experiencing something we have never been through before. And I imagine we are all coping in many different ways. But I trust that you share my heart felt longing to be together in person again, and my grief that we cannot do so safely. We have the comfort of being "alone together "but even that is waning...
I've tried to have the perspective that we are isolating now so that when we gather again everyone will be at the table. But it's difficult when we feel hungry for it NOW. Our favorite parts of belonging to a church are missing for us right now. We don't know how to "do church" from home, how to be in community with those we don't see, how to worship as individuals or just with our families. Yes, community is one of the Church's greatest gifts, but it's not our only definer. For the Church IS the people. I remember another song I learned as a child that goes "I am the church. You are the church. WE are the church together." We can't safely BE together right now, but WE are still the Church collectively. Our commission to Love God and love our neighbors and make disciples still stands. And the hope is that our church building and community have equipped us to continue in spiritual disciplines that sustain us, that sustain our relationship with God.
Fortunately, the believers who helped raise me into discipleship and ministry taught me well. They taught me to use a fork and to feed myself. And I am so grateful for the Sunday School teachers who taught me the books of the bible and how to read scripture, the confirmation mentor who helped explain God's grace, for the youth leaders who created experiences to encounter God through creative worship, and so so many others. Others like Louanne Elliot who served with my as a acolyte when I was too afraid to walk by myself in 2nd grade. She walked down the aisle with me every week for years so that I could participate in worship leadership. These adults are the reason my faith continues on despite all the changes and challenges this year has brought us. These adults didn't form a disciple dependent on sitting in a pew, they taught me to claim my own spiritual growth and relationship with Christ. I am grateful.
We aren't meant to "do church" alone, but our faith is our own and we alone are responsible. We teach our 6th grade confirmands that when they join the church, that their faith is now their own responsibility. For me, this looks like daily reading and prayer, and holding fast to a few close friends who love Jesus as I do. I'm grateful to NRUMC and all our staff have done to keep our local church active in mission in our community and for the opportunities for us to worship and study virtually. I'm grateful that we have prioritized the safety and health of all. And, most of all, I'm proud of how we as a church family have been patient and resilient through this year and shown our commitment to protect one another by making tough sacrifices. I hope that when we regather, ALL are at the table together, and that we regard it as the privilege it is.
For many years, I thought I could only feel God's presence at church camp. That was the place I had first felt the power of the Holy Spirit, and it felt like I had to be in that space to truly encounter God. It took praying with a friend in crisis over the phone while sitting in my car that helped me truly understand the all surrounding presence of God among us and within us. I remind myself now that we cannot escape the presence of God (Psalm 139:7-12), or the Love of God (Romans 8:38-39) It's comforting to me to remember that I am not alone. You are not alone.
I haven't made a New Year's Resolution or picked a "word of the year" yet, and I might not. We are dealing with enough personally, nationally, globally to be adding extra expectations on ourselves to seek 'self improvement' resolutions. It's ok if you are just surviving. If you're feeling disconnected as I have, here's what's helped me: Call someone just because, use "snail mail" and write a card, create a worship playlist on Spotify, find a new sermon podcast or devotion book, reach out to your pastors...
You're doing your best, and so is everyone else.
Have grace with others, have grace for yourself.
Jen Haselden
Director of Youth Ministry
PS: I wrote this little poem back in May, never dreaming that we would still be where we are.
But I'd like to share it again:
