Guest commentary by Becca Weaver Longino
I bought my Palm Sunday plant seven months ago. I was in IKEA when I saw it, and immediately thought, “Ooh, that would be fun to have during worship on Palm Sunday this year.” Small church, small budget — yay for a sustainable palm plant that can be used year after year!
It did not occur to me when I bought it that I’d keep it in my home on Palm Sunday because I’d be leading worship from there. And that it wouldn’t even make it into the frame of our worship recording, because of last-minute decision to stand for the recording instead of sit. (I needed some sort of normalcy, and I normally stand when I preach.)
I took a cutting from my palm plant and stuck it in my glass while having a nightcap with some of my beloved fellow young clergywomen via Zoom last night. It amused me and made me feel better about forgetting to include it in our worship recording. And I really needed that bit of amusement because I would much rather have gathered with my friends at Central Market where we would worry about the threat of grackle droppings instead of dealing with the technology woes that come with virtual gatherings.
All of this is really weird.
It’s really weird to lead worship from my house. It’s really awkward to preach virtually. It’s really lonely to do ministry when I can’t be with my church family in person.
I have not seen any of my church members in person since March 13. I have not led worship in person since March 1, having planned to take March 8 off before making the call to suspend in-person worship starting March 15.
I really miss my church family.
One household from our church is having a particularly difficult day today and I wish I could be there with them. Instead, I’m praying for them and keeping a candle lit all day. And obsessively checking my phone for updates via text.
I’m dreading what it will look like if anyone in my church family gets really sick and I’m not able to visit them.
I don’t even want to think about how it will feel to do a socially distant graveside service.
But from what I can tell, based on the guidance from people who are way smarter at epidemiology than I am, the very best way I can love my church family right now is to stay away from them. I’ve heard it said that the only way we’re going to get through this is if everyone acts as though they currently have the virus, which I’m interpreting to mean that I need to stay home. And in those rare instances when I venture to the church to check the mail, I’m diligent with wearing a mask and washing my hands.
Even though I would love to lead worship with a small worship team from our usual worship space. Even though I would love to be physically present with and for people. Even though youth group would be so much more fun if we could play those silly games in person.
I’m staying home.
I’m trusting that the Holy Spirit will provide her comforting presence to my church family when I cannot be physically present with them.
And I’m going to continue using this cutting from my palm plant as a drink garnish (currently in sweet tea) until it is dry enough to burn for next year’s ashes. Because it still amuses me and it reminds me that hope is not canceled.
BECCA WEAVER LONGINO is the pastor of New Covenant Fellowship of Austin, a racially diverse church in the heart of Austin, Texas. After homeschooling her two small children for only one week, she has a boatload more respect and admiration for all teachers.
