Love In The Time of COVID: That which is essential

 

 

Earlier this evening I had the enormous privilege of presiding at a Celebration and Renewal of the 30th Anniversary of Wedding Vows.

 

It was via Zoom. And, by cell phone.

 

Let me explain.

 

The couple are Roman Catholics who left their church earlier this year. I didn't ask why and they didn't say. Actually, we just haven't had time for that conversation. Yet.

 

They have been attending an Episcopal Church where I've been helping out Here's the thing: They've never been inside the church building, proper. They were just invited to the weekly Zoom-charist by a friend who is a member of the church and serves on the vestry. They loved the experience and stayed. Or, rather, they keep clicking on the Zoom link every Sunday.

 

They didn't fall in love with the church architecture or the sound of the organ. They didn't love the choir or the beautiful stained glass windows. They have never even tasted the wonderful goodies or the excellent coffee at coffee hour.

 

They've never had a face-to-face, actual, in-person meeting with other congregation members or the previous interim priest who has left, nor I, helping out when I can, especially recently, through Advent and Christmas.

 

So, yes, I've never met them in person, but I've already provided some pastoral care and presided at a family prayer service for the husband's 84 year old mother who died in a hospital in Florida of COVID. She was, undoubtedly, the family matriarch. No family members were allowed to be present at her death.

 

That led the couple to say, "Hey, we have an anniversary coming up. We'd like to do something to mark that. Something just simple and quiet. But, maybe we could, well, maybe gather the family? Do you have any ideas about what we can we do?"

 

Do I haven any ideas? About liturgy? About gathering family and community?

 

They obviously don't know me, right? Well, they're learning.

 

Of course, I put together a service - patched together from Episcopal, Lutheran and Roman Catholic sources. It sounded familiar enough to their ears - which they loved - and yet it was unique to them.

 

Suddenly, this turned into a family affair. They invited their children and family and the original wedding party to the event. I don't know how many were actually on the Zoom call, but it seemed quite a lot.

 

Unfortunately, there was some sort of glitch in the Zoom session - the husband thought he had set up two sessions and had sent me the 'trial run' and I couldn't get onto the one with the rest of the family and friends.

 

So, not to be deterred, they called me on my cell phone and put their cell phone next to the computer. And, everyone could hear me and I could hear them. And they made such a joyful noise.

 

People cried and laughed and the couple kissed and everyone said how much they didn't know they needed this as a family after losing Grandmother last week but they were so grateful.

 

I'm just astounded by what technology allows us to do.

 

You know, this pandemic is wretched. It is evil. Of that, there is no doubt. And yet, it presents us with the best time to be Christian. We have so many tools available to us.

 

We are so advanced and yet we're learning that we still have so much more to learn.

 

Our buildings are lovely and they are important, but they are not necessary. Our faith is inspired by our beautiful music and musicians and glorious instruments, but it is strengthened by prayer in community that gathers where and how it can.

 

Death may steal some from our midst, but life has this way of going on. "Life is changed, not ended," our Prayer Book reminds us. Joy finds its way into the necessary moments of our life.

 

Even at the grave we make our song, "Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!"

 

These are uncommon, extraordinary times. So, our response is necessarily uncommon and extraordinary.

 

Love in the time of COVID is still love. Only more so.

 

In the time of COVID, the church is still the church. Only more so.

 

We're just learning that, sometimes, we're more of the church outside the building.

 

We're learning what the fox taught the Little Prince, "That which is essential is invisible to the eye."