Church changes over time. Without getting into Process Theology, we know from experience in The Episcopal Church that our liturgies change (e.g. the 1979 Book of Common Prayer vis-à-vis the 1928). Besides the use of modern instead of Elizabethan English, the Holy Eucharist largely replaced Morning Prayer as the standard form of worship on Sunday mornings. The church no longer directly discriminates against African-Americans. All roles in the church were opened to women. The church no longer rejects Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender persons. Two of the large parishes in our Diocese — and the most rapidly growing — are El Buen Pastor in Durham and La Guadalupana in Wilson. Technology has replaced newspaper advertisements and most mass mailings to parishioners with websites and email. Church buildings have WiFi, and many of us have Bibles on our smartphones.
This rate of change hasn’t always been comfortable for every parishioner. But now we see that COVID-19 is compressing 25 years of natural church evolution into 12 months. It’s scary and tricky. We’ve all become fiddlers on the roof, trying to play a familiar tune while not losing our stability. It’s a test not only of our commitment to discipleship but also of our creativity and adaptability.
Furthermore, because COVID-19 is a disproportionate threat to senior citizens, it is accelerating the natural succession of church volunteers from one generation to the next. Many of our senior parishioners have had the time and good health to volunteer in various capacities at Nativity, and we came to depend on them. But now they feel particularly inhibited, and for good reason.
I was born in 1954. The only episode of community-pervasive fear that I remember is the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. At the time I lived two miles from the USAF base responsible for air defense of the southeastern U.S. One press report said that we were #10 on the list of targets should nuclear war erupt. Duck and cover, they told us in school. But the Cuban missile crisis was resolved in a short period of time with only one combat fatality.
Granted, being an Episcopalian in Raleigh at present is not like being a Roman Catholic in Warsaw in 1939 or an Anglican in London in 1941 and certainly not like being a European Jew before and during those years. But COVID-19 isn’t something that human beings inflicted upon one another and that human beings could stop. COVID-19 could be with us for years or even decades unless medical science bails us out, and I’m far from confident that there will be a free pass from science anytime soon.
While of course we long for a return to life as we knew it merely 8 weeks ago, Nativity is rapidly adapting to these new circumstances. Many of our discoveries and transformations will become permanent and enrich our spiritual journeys for the rest of our lives. I am so grateful for the talent, skill, and persistence of Stephanie, Deacon David, our parish staff, and my fellow parishioners. No one knows what the situation will be six months from now, but innovation, flexibility, and forbearance will help us to preserve and to expand our community that follows the Christ. It’s a time to endure, yes, but it’s also a time to evolve in positive ways.
I am privileged to serve as the Secretary of the Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina. Every day I have emails and teleconferences about how the Diocese can or must also adapt to new circumstances. What happens with the annual Convention of the Diocese in November? How do we continue to bring people forward into the diaconate and priesthood? How do we manage our finances when incomes appear to be falling but some segments of our community – notably, the Episcopal Farmworker Ministry in Newton Grove – face more difficulty than ever? Literally hundreds of people throughout the Diocese are working diligently to answer these and many similar questions.
At Nativity, in the Diocese, and in The Episcopal Church it is comforting and inspiring to see the spiritual energy at work among us. We don’t often hear from the book of 1 Chronicles, so I shall close with this: “David said to Solomon his son, ‘Be steadfast and resolute and carry it out; be neither faint-hearted nor dismayed, for the Lord God, my God, will be with you; he will neither fail you nor forsake you, until you have finished all the work needed for the service of the house of the Lord.’” (REB)
Click here to read more about the Diocesan plan to move forward as social distancing restrictions begin to lift in our state.
Chuck Till