Unpacking the Pandemic: The Good Days

By Michaela Lawrence Jeffery

Do you have a ministry season that surprised you, one you look back on with peace and excitement? Things were new. Creativity flowed. God showed off. For me, this was June 2020 to June 2021 when our worship service moved outside.

March and April were on Zoom and then we spent a year on our church lawn and in our parking lot, missing only two Sabbaths because of the weather. While many of you were pre-taping sermons or live-streaming from the sanctuary with a small crew, figuring out how the weather would impact worship became our norm. 

We began on the side of the property that has a couple of big trees, providing shade for those in their cars or sitting on the lawn. As the summer turned to fall, we moved to the “stage” to the middle of the lawn so that we could be in the sunshine during most of our worship time. By winter I preached on the sidewalk right in front of our church’s main entrance. It protected those of us leading out in the service from some of the cold wind. Some.

What became our norm was honking our horns as a way of saying hello at the beginning of worship, keeping the service short—songs, prayer, sermon—and welcoming Zoom-fatigued guests from churches who weren’t yet back to in-person gatherings. (Some came so often that I asked if they wanted to transfer their membership. I know their pastor. We all had a good laugh.)

What became our norm was hoping there’d be enough people to help with setup and knowing there were always enough to help with tear down. 

What became my norm was believing that all would be well. And all was well. Better than expected, actually. So good that I didn’t want to go back inside. 

Perhaps that’s because I was preaching in a space that held no traditions. The summer dress code was “where what you won’t faint in” while the winter was “you can bundle up all you want but your mouth will still freeze so keep it short”. The backdrop of tall oaks invited me to rest even as I worked. The siren on an ambulance forced unintended pauses. No one had “their” pew. One time the Lord’s Supper preceded the sermon.

And everything was fine because the main point was being able to worship God together. In parked cars, in chairs on the lawn, distanced appropriately…together. Together in a space we’d never experienced like this before. We were all new to the land, figuring it out…together. 

Those were some good days. I’m grateful. And I’m excited to see how God shows off next. In the meantime, I’m relearning the blessing of pews.