More than six centuries later, Julian of Norwich still speaks to modern Christians caught, like her, in the clutches of another “Great Pestilence.”
The 21st-century, post-pandemic church should not eschew participation in the American economy because of who it might leave out. Instead, it should embrace a new role as a transformative social and cultural guide for doing business in a way that is ethical, sustainable and missional.
While we wait to gather again physically, we can ask: How are we experiencing the Spirit’s movement in our cyberspaces of worship, inviting us to cross boundaries between human, machine, more-than-human, the physical and the non-physical?
Even if shelter-in-place for you feels like being held in solitary confinement, this devastating pandemic WILL end. Until then, perhaps you have been given a rare opportunity to quiet your heart and mind for a greater purpose.
I have become a patient advocate and personal resource for people around the country whose loved ones and friends are now behind the COVID curtain, alone. With reluctance, I have also entered the public dialogue about COVID-19 on social media.
This pandemic is not a theological crisis. It’s a moral one. We would do well in this moment to take the prophet Jeremiah’s advice to “put on sackcloth, lament and howl.” We need to mourn and rage and contemplate what led us to this moment.
As congregational separation and virtual worship persist, I find myself longing for the healing touches consistently dispensed in our home congregation – sacraments of grace I’ve taken all-too-for-granted.
In the face of economic collapse, Americans are being invited to become sacrificially collectivist in their willingness to strap life, limb and vulnerable loved ones to the altar of our hyperventilating economy for the good of “everyone.”
Liberation is a sacred idea. Those who exploit the crisis of a global pandemic for their own political purposes or personal gain are not liberators.