Presented May 17, 2020 by Rev. Jesse Larson
Based on Psalm 66:8-20
Big move … backed up toilet
Often, things don’t turn out as we planned.
A big wrench is thrown into our plans.
I’m sure we are all familiar with the unhappy feeling of our plans falling apart; and it now seems as though all of the world is in a long-term holding plan in which it’s just about impossible to even make plans now since the arrival of the COVID-19 virus.
Our spring plans have been dashed and it appears as though our summer vacations will be a wash as well. As several states begin to reopen, some rapidly and others hesitantly, most scientists are confident that we will see spikes in the infection rate further down the road. That would mean that most of our fall plans as well as our winter plans will also be put on hold.
We are all very tired of this “new normal” and can become overwhelmed, especially since it can be hard to see any light at the end of the tunnel.
Our denomination, the Presbyterian Church USA, and our local Presbyteries, are continually sending out resources about the ways in which we are to move forward. This past week there were several concerning how churches might reopen and the news isn’t good. Studies have shown that singing and choirs cast out so many germs that they just can’t happen for the time being. Even if we maintain social distancing, should toilets and door handles be wiped down after every use? There are just so many safety concerns to consider. There are even questions about who might be held liable if a congregation member were to contract the virus and die.
I hope you had a chance to watch the video I e-mailed out to the congregation earlier this week concerning the church’s current reality and the questions we should be asking as we move forward. I found it to be quite helpful. The video acknowledges that the coming many months will be a series of starts and stops. A few steps forward and a few steps backward. The key to substantial progress is if and when a vaccine can be found. Until then, we’ll be navigating this world through online communities, as we are doing now, and small groups. None bigger than 10. This is our new reality for the foreseeable future.
When we read today’s Psalm, we are familiar with the anguish that the writer has experienced. It feels like we are being tested, that we are caught in a net. These are scary times. This virus sounds awful and we are still trying to understand just how it works. Our hearts are especially heavy when we think about those who are gravely sick and who cannot be with their loved ones.
Even the special joys of day-to-day life seem few and far between; it’s currently graduation season and it just doesn’t seem fair that we can’t celebrate the accomplishments of our young people together.
And when we think about the state of our nation, we shudder; the unemployment numbers are staggering; pundits are predicting that the coming years will rival the Great Depression in terms of economic devastation.
As the Psalmist writes, “we are going through fire and water”—and it may be quite a while before we reach the “spacious place” of which the Psalmist speaks.
So how do we keep up our hope in the midst of a long trial? It’s probably a series of starts and stops in our faith life as well.
Some days are better than others. It’s important to acknowledge our grief, just like the Psalmist—it is heartbreaking to lose hose we love, to struggle to find work, and to have our many special plans dashed.
But we can’t get stuck in our grief. Every day is a new opportunity—the very gift of life is presented to us.
How will we find joy in each day?
How will we creatively seek to be the church in this “new normal”?
I’ve been amazed by the technology people are using to bring us together, as well as the many unique ways people are creating to care for one another in times of social distancing. You may have seen the news concerning drive-by birthday celebrations, and teachers and principals who have visited all of their students. In a few moments, we’ll all be seeing one another’s beautiful faces in Zoom worship—something that just wasn’t possible a few years ago.
So yeah, I guess there isn’t really a light at the end of the tunnel, but there are thousands of thousands of candles shining brightly in the darkness.
Lastly, we cannot forget the joy of the Psalmist. Ultimately, God does bring us through to the other side—to the “spacious place.” God hears our prayers and will not abandon us. God mae you and God loves you with an undying love, no matter what comes your way.
This reality will not change. Nothing can ever separate us from the Love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. In life or in death, we belong to God and all roads will lead to God’s mighty embrace. Amen.
