President Trump has stated numerous times the last few weeks that he wants to see churches “re-open.” When did we close? Yes, we shut our doors to in-person gatherings. But we didn’t close. We never stopped being “the Church.” We continued gathering, albeit virtually online. We continued worshiping. We continued feeding the hungry. We continued to trying to provide for the most vulnerable. In fact, by closer our physical doors and opening our virtual ones, we were being the Church and protecting our own most vulnerable members from the Coronavirus.
Right now church boards across the country are discerning and planning for the time when we may be able to open our physical doors again. But all of the pastors and board leaders I’m speaking with are saying that is likely a long way off. My own board is planning to continue the new pandemic status quo at least through December, even as we prepare a plan for coming back together in person and continue assessing the situation as it progresses.
I want to say that words really do matter. It’s easy for us to make a crucial mistake in our church language: we mistake the “church” for the “Church” (that is, the building for the people). I do it all the time. I tell my wife, “I need head up to the church …” What I mean is I am heading to the building for a meeting or to pick something up or work on something. It’s all too easy to translate into our language on Sundays or whenever your community gathers. “On Sundays, I go to Church”—in other words, I gather with my faith community to worship. I have friends who are deeply rooted in the environmental justice movement and have heard them say, “I’m going to Church this weekend.” What they mean is that they’re heading to commune with God out in the wilderness. Being in the wilderness, whether it’s the beautiful Sonoran desert or among the pine trees of the mountains, is where they find their center. I’d like to suggest that it’s less about a particular location and more about the company we’re keeping. Yes, trees and cactus alike can be company.
I see the Church still keeping company with the people who caught Jesus’ attention: the poor, the hungry, the marginalized, the oppressed. My congregation is still working with partners to put water in the desert for migrants trying to escape violence and poverty to seek safety and hope in the U.S. My congregation is still bringing meals to our older community members who sometimes struggle to make their own meals. My congregation is still working with organizations that are housing homeless folks and trying to give them hope and the opportunity to recover themselves. In fact, my congregation is still offering shelter to one of the organizations that operates a rotating homeless shelter (yes, with more targeted cleaning and disinfecting and safety precautions for guests). My congregation continues to worship and fellowship and even have coffee together. My congregation continues on! My friends and colleagues are continuing to fulfill their call to ministry in the name of Christ. The Church lives and is open for business. And for that, I am thankful.