One Year In

Elizabeth and I had the opportunity to receive our first shot of coronavirus vaccine last week. We were part of an effort by the Kent County Health Department to get local clergy to get the vaccine in a very public way so that we could encourage our congregations and communities to get the vaccine as well. It was nice that they thought of us as influencers. 

The effort was based on the availability of the vaccine, so it was not widely publicized ahead of time and we had about forty-five minutes between when we heard about the opportunity and when we needed to sign up by. It all happened rather quickly.

When we got down to the convention center that had been turned into a vaccination site, we were still a bit unclear about how everything was going to work and we had some fears that maybe they only wanted clergy that fit the rest of the vaccination criteria and would still turn us away at the door. Our fears turned to relief, however, when the national guard, who met us at the door, responded to our mumbled, “We’re pastors with the pastor-thingy…” not with looks of bafflement but with a quick hand-off to a guide who brought us to a back gathering room.

The whole process ended up being quite emotional. We were touched when representatives from the Health Department spoke to us as a group, and they repeatedly expressed gratitude to the churches who had worshipped virtually throughout the year, helping to keep the COVID cases down. When we later received our shots, both of us almost started crying as this event that we had been longing for finally became a reality—this was a tangible step toward making it through this hard year. And it was a publicity event, of course, so we had our pictures taken at various stages along the way and sat for a short interview at the end, and one of the questions we were asked was, “What are you most looking forward to being able to do again?” And all of those longings for community, for physical interaction, for simple hugs of friendship, for being able to give folks communion again came flooding over us.

It’s been a year. A year since all of this started. A year since we last worshipped in person together. I remember back to one of my first midweek reflections, and—not knowing quite how long all this was going to go on—I said this was a time to rethink some of our lives. What was healthy? What was unhealthy? What did we want to get rid of? What did we want to add? Our lives were going to change, I wrote—let’s try to change intentionally.

Now, a year later, I wonder a bit how I did. Some of the rhythms I adopted were very deliberate. Others just happened. Some I had a lot of control over, others not so much. Some changes were very positive—there’s been a surprising amount of good that has come out of this past year—and other changes have been, shall we say, not so good.

I read an article this morning about all the changes churches have experienced in the past year and lessons that could be learned from them. An obvious lesson is that church is not a building—our faith and spiritual life and community together are not tied to the building at 1803 Kalamazoo Ave SE. A less obvious lesson, the article pointed out, is that discipleship is different than many churches thought of it as. It’s not just about gathering together for worship or running church programs or discipleship classes, but rather it’s about people growing more and more like Jesus. And while the gathering for worship and church programs have been taken away this past year, growing more like Jesus most certainly has not. In fact, in many ways, this past year has presented a unique opportunity to grow more like Jesus that so-called “normal life” would never have afforded.

And so, I began wondering—between reading this article and thinking back to that early midweek reflection—how have I grown more like Jesus this year? How have you? And then, as we keep moving through this, how can we keep growing more like Jesus in the days and weeks and months and even years ahead?