Total transparency here, I’m growing fatigued of technology….fast.  I miss people, I miss hugs, I miss face to face conversations, I miss holding hands with someone as I’m praying with them, I miss hospital visits, I miss large gatherings over a meal.  This season of COVID-19 is hard and each time I sit down to do research on new technology needed or to start recording something on Facebook live while I try to talk to a camera which gives me no feedback like a room full of people would, I can almost feel the physical pain of it in the pit of my stomach, the pain of a life interrupted, a life changed by social distancing. 

In the midst of all of this pain, however, I am keenly aware that this is an opportunity.  I was reminded by a friend this week of a quote by Rahm Emanuel, “You never want a serious crisis to go to waste.” (This has also been attributed to Winston Churchill prior to Emanuel, but I digress.)  Emanuel goes on to say, “And what I mean by that is it’s an opportunity to do things that you think you could not do before.”  In the midst of pain, in the midst of suffering, in the midst of this crazy and unsettling world right now, new ideas, new ways of doing things are being born.  This is especially true of the church. 

I am reminded of my own birth experiences with my children.  I gave birth naturally and without pain medication two and a half times.  I count that half because with my first child the epidural only worked down half of my body – it still hurt and it counts!  I’m not going to lie, it hurt a lot.  There was pain and lots of breathing and a few screams here and there.  When you’re in the midst of that much pain, it’s hard to see that it will ever end, even though in your mind you know logically it will.  And when the acute pain ended, something new was born, something beautiful and blessed and life-altering.  There were still afterpains, my body had taken nine months to get to the point at which I gave birth and it would take many more to return to its “new normal”, but with me and along side of me was a new creation, one that brought joy and hope and new perspective. 

I see this in the church right now.  Right  now I am tired, in pain, and hurting, but I have faith that God is at work in this and will work through this to birth something new, new ways of connecting with people, new expressions of worship and new perspectives on how we as Christ followers can be the church in our communities.  One of the liturgical milestones that signals we are heading into the summer months for me is Pentecost.  In just a few short weeks we will proclaim the power of the Holy Spirit, we will remember the story in Acts 2 of the disciples who felt the Spirit blow like a rush of wind upon them, almost as if it was blowing them out the door to proclaim the good news in a multitude of languages so all could understand.  The church will birth something new through this pandemic, something that will reach new people to proclaim the good news in a way that, although previously untapped, will speak to people in a way that they understand.  

It’s hard to let your mind wander to the furthest reaches of creativity when you are in survival mode, when day to day worries take up time and attention.  I continue to pray each day that I will be able to reach the point where, in my particular context, I am able to clearly see that beautiful new creation that is being birthed.  I pray that the Holy Spirit will fall on everyone in the congregations I serve, that they might be alert to the “newness” of church all around them.  And I pray for the church as a whole, that it will be able to proclaim the story of our faith which includes both pain and suffering as well as resurrection and new birth, all of which are intertwined with the presence and the work of God.