Singing in Church
Kalonda, Congo, 1981
children packed into the front rows
waving, clapping, dancing.
space between us
children in the back
with distracted parents.
children dart in and out of view
we mute ourselves when we sing.
Doing Church in a Pandemic
I’m used to sitting in the front row at Shalom Mennonite Church, seeing only the worship and song leaders and preachers up front. On Zoom I see rows of faces. I click back and forth to see who’s here. I am distracted by my own face and try to adjust the camera.
Preaching works fine on Zoom; fewer distractions on Speaker view. One or two persons read the litany while others follow along from home. Singing is the biggest challenge. We can each sing at home but can’t hear each other. I see what tech-savvy folks are doing in other locations (including Quito, Ecuador), but our congregation hasn’t gotten there yet.
Zoom is a great medium for folks with social anxiety. One can hide one’s face or turn the camera to the ceiling. Some folks have been attending who rarely or never could gear themselves up to come to an in-person service. Shy folks watch from behind their names. We are joined by folks who are at a distance, snowbirds and folks who have moved away.
For a person who doesn’t drive and doesn’t have internet, this is a terribly lonely time. No access to email, no friendly person picking one up on Sunday morning and chatting on the way to church, no fellowship meals. Listening to worship by phone is a poor substitute.
How to be church together in such a time?
Our Shalom leaders created a panel of deacons who check in on each person or household on a regular basis. A social calling tree is available to encourage informal conversations. Small groups meet by Zoom or stay in touch informally. We still take meals to folks who have had surgery or been hospitalized.
Our sharing time takes on a new urgency when several members of one family are ill. Some of us work in health care or other high-risk settings. We pray for each other, virtually reaching out to surround each other with the hugs we can’t share.
Looking ahead, it’s not easy to find the best path. We feel the desire to draw together, while the rising Covid case numbers pull us apart. Will cases spike when school opens? When will it be safe enough to gather in person? How will we care for the most vulnerable among us?
There have been plagues and pandemics before, but in reading about them we underestimated the upheaval that they caused. Now it’s our turn to live in a pandemic. Lord help us, we pray.
About the author
Martha Yoder Maust
Martha retired in May after 35 years as a family physician in a community health center. She is enjoying her grandchildren during this time of retiring in place.