Today was not the first time I'd ever done online church. I've tuned in before to the Facebook Live stream when I've been ill.
But today? It was a bit odd, gathering around my dining room table with homemade communion bread, with a six-pack of Welch's Grape Juice on the table, my phone propped up and streaming our worship leader and four members of our praise team singing.
I made communion bread for the first time ever. My son commented on how "oily" it was, and he was right.
He made lunch (well, it was frozen fish fillets and french fries, but he still put it in the oven!)
I listened to my preacher's sermon, which focused on the story of Jairus' daughter and the woman with the issue of blood, found in Matthew 9, Mark 5, and Luke 8. Our preacher talked about detours. Jesus ended up taking a "detour" of sorts, because he was on his way to heal the daughter of Jairus, a synagogue leader, when a woman who'd had bleeding for 12 years came up behind Jesus and touched his clothes, hoping to be healed.
I think she'd just hoped for a crumb from under the table. Instead, Jesus stopped everything and wanted to know, who touched me?
That was the "detour". Jairus probably wringing his hands, the disciples wondering, how in the world could you know that someone touched you, with all these people around you; the woman, probably scared to death of being scolded . . . and who left with Jesus' "go in peace" benediction.
So how do we respond when we have this sort of "detour"?
For me, I don't know yet. I know to look around me and see where the needs are. I know to pray. I know that since God cares for the sparrows and we are more valuable than they are, He will care for us.
Online, I see many Christians arguing about whether or not it was a lack of faith not to meet together as a congregation. "Don't you trust God to protect you?" (I'm reminded of a saying that might be a good response: "Trust God, but keep your powder dry.") How many of us meet together because we feel like we have to? It's one of the "five acts of worship" that we must complete on Sunday, and only on Sunday, in order to stay saved?
I think, in these extraordinary circumstances, God understands. He is a God full of grace and slow to anger, and those that quote "forsake not the assembling of yourselves together", in my opinion, take "forsake" to mean "missing the occasional service" rather than "deserting" or "turning your back on" gathering together. Most people, when citing the reason they have stayed home from service or canceled their worship gathering, cite their desire to protect infecting high-risk populations such as the elderly or those with chronic illness.
I do plan to get out of the house for at least 30 minutes a day, if for no other reason than to get some fresh air and to keep from going stir crazy. And I may re-read The Long Winter. Unlike Laura Ingalls, though, I have plenty of food and don't have to grind my wheat in a coffee mill to make bread.
Tomorrow I will make a list and a possible schedule of things to do.
In the meantime, in keeping with the theme of this entry . . .
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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