Faith Works 10-17-20

Faith Works 10-17-20

Jeff Gill

I am an unmasked sinner
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Sunday mornings I am part of y'all who are experiencing worship online, whether streaming or recorded video or social media "Live" feeds. With my now regular contacts with elderly folk as a caregiver, I'm still not attending even carefully distanced and face-covered indoor worship services.

We've all gotten better at this, speaking still for clergy who had to master cameras and audio and low power FM transmission, even though I'm now two months out from that. I watched my peers and colleagues early on, and now more leisure to check out a variety of online services. I attend vespers at St. Meinrad Archabbey in Indiana and Spanish language praise & worship in California and a number of services more like I'm used to all across the country and a local service or three I regularly check in on.

I've been asked my opinion about in-person worship; when or where it's appropriate, and how I think gathered worship can be done safely.

Looking back, we know more than we did then; what we were concerned might be the case in March and April is not the same as what we're trying to protect against this fall. That's learning and progress and the beginning of wisdom in an earthly sense. And looking ahead, we have the necessity of losing much of our outdoor options that so many congregations have used well through the spring and summer.

In short, there's no simple answer for me or anyone else to offer to faith communities in general. If a sanctuary has easy, ideally grade-level access with modular seating and excellent ventilation (up to code HVAC), I suspect that reasonable use of social distancing between family groups and face coverings would allow gathered worship just fine, but I'd be leery of congregational singing. But we're still learning about how exhaled viruses get from one person to another, and I'm no expert. What I am trying to do is keep up with the latest and best tested expert guidance on safe assembly, and right now having older and at-risk people (or their caregivers) inhaling a great deal of the exhalations of potentially COVID infected persons for an hour or more seems to be the primary concern.

For my wife and I, we're not concerned about the virus, but we're trying not to put ourselves anywhere we'd not want our respective elderly parent to be. So if we'd not put a 91 year old in that pew for an hour, we won't go there ourselves, simply out of caution from our regular visits as caregivers. That's a different limiting factor than many have to consider. Most people who don't have risk factors can, I think, with reasonable precautions be in a group setting - but shame on anyone who tries to shame someone else into removing a mask. If that's what gives them a sense of security enough to be out of the house and anywhere near strangers and others, we should all support them in what's working for their needs.

What this period has taught me, though, or perhaps I should say reminded me of, is my own sinfulness. Truly. Of the brokenness within me that Christ died to save me from, to start me healing from in the here and now, and to redeem me from when all is said and done.

Because I was watching a football game last Sunday, and I caught myself doing it. Yes, the players are taking their own sort of risks, for my entertainment and to keep the economy of their league and city and their own paychecks humming, I'm sure. Yes, the stands were mostly empty, in some stadiums with cutouts in the seats, others like Cleveland with couples and family clusters all spaced a few seats apart in a scattered array of fans. And mostly when you saw the bleacher sections you saw people with face coverings.

But there was one game where a last minute win turned the TV cameras to the owners box, through the glass, into the precincts of privilege, and almost all the wealthy & well-connected were sitting there without masks. I thought dark, grim, judgmental, unforgiving thoughts about them, and enjoyed doing so.

Then I heard Jesus say "Jeff, look at what you are thinking, and how." And I realized I was unmasked. I was simply looking to who was in, and who is out, and taking pleasure in being in while getting to label those who are not. And said "thank you, Jesus."

Still wearing masks out in public, though.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's finally found some masks that fit him. Tell him about how you're worshiping through the season of Coronatide at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.