Let’s be straight: congregational singing is awkward now. If you come to church on Sunday, you’re going to be singing through a mask, surrounded by…empty space. It’s weird. And if you’ve been tuning on online, I’m pretty confident you definitely feel this. Church music piped through your TV just isn’t the same.
We’re in a strange place. And it’s temping to withdraw from the uncomfortable. But you shouldn’t. Here’s why.
How does church happen in a pandemic? This is a question we’ve all been wresting with these past four months. Now that we’re beginning to reopen on a limited basis, changing expectations and practices once more, it’s worth considering the question afresh. How does church happen when we’re sort of reopened?
On May 20th, we released our Village Together plan—a five phase plan to reopen Village safely and wisely. On Friday, May 29, Illinois and Village officially moved in to phase three, permitting groups of 10 or fewer to meet with proper social distancing protocols in place. However, on Thursday, May 28, Governor Pritzker released new guidelines for houses of worship, and explained that these guidelines were not mandatory, but rather recommended as “best practices” for resuming worship services. And so, in light of these two things—moving into phase three and the new guidance for churches—what’s next for Village? Are we ready to go? Or do we continue on with our plan?
As we move into week 11 of this pandemic, now that school is done, stores are still restricted, many activities are cancelled and the summer looming ahead—how can we see this summer as a time of middle ground? A time of refreshment and rest; of creative play and work; a time for family discipleship and ministry? Many of us have the extra time now. How will we use it?
This Sunday we will observe communion. At the end of our service, the pastors and deacons will stand before the congregation, will give thanks for the bread, and then bread will be broken, distributed, and eaten together by the church. We will repeat the process for the cup. Each week, we frame this event as a sacred time, as a “family matter,” given as a gift for the people of Jesus. But as with any rhythm of life, the sweetness of meaning can grow dull through routine repetition.
