This is different. It’s Easter Sunday. We get up, take showers, and have breakfast. Then we travel, all the way back upstairs, to the office and watch church.
On March 15, church did not happen for me. The sermon was subsequently mailed out. But on March 22, some of our fine technical experts, along with our pastors, presented service on Facebook. The pastors offered scripture, prayers, and sermons, while the service was augmented by song selections from the past four years of the Chancel Choir. There are some tracks from the Bell Choir ss well.
Like anything new, the process has evolved, with hymn texts projected on the screen so that we may sing along. The Presbyterian Church USA has indicated that it was OK to have communion at home, and we did on Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday.
The Good Friday worship service was the scripture readings traditionally referred to as “the last seven words.” Additional readings from Psalms, the Gospels, and the epistles expanded on the message. The readings were separated by sung responses from the Taizé Community, a Christian community in France known for its contemplative, meditative music. The service concluded with music, and we were invited to ponder Jesus’ death before departing in silence.
And now we’re in the resurrection mode. Funny thing, though. Instead of passing on chocolate for Lent, we had given up hugs and handshakes and even face-to-face contact. On the other hand, Lent isn’t all about refraining from, but taking on. We’re taking on “an abundance of caution” and handmade masks. We work from home, or in perilous conditions if we’re working at all.
And Easter doesn’t change that. Not yet.
Still, we celebrate Easter Worship Service today. The Hallelujahs may be live streaming on Facebook – my church’s service is at 10 a.m. EDT – but I hold onto hope. I must, for my own sake. Being part of a community, even one I only “see” because of the zeroes and ones on my computer screen, is still a blessing.