Nurturing Connections

As of Thursday, I'm now fully vaccinated.

And as of Thursday, CDC Director Rochelle Walensky announced: “Anyone who is fully vaccinated can participate in indoor and outdoor activities, large or small, without wearing a mask or physical distancing. If you are fully vaccinated, you can start doing the things that you had stopped doing because of the pandemic.”

So last night, meeting members of our family for outdoor pizza, as we've been doing in good weather since the pandemic started, we gave them all hugs.

This morning, my husband Whitney and I attended church indoors together, for the first time since March 2020. It was wonderful to be in church again, to see people I hadn't seen since our outdoor worship ended late last fall. It was wonderful to pray together, to take communion, to feel the words of worship wash over us.

The pews had blue painters tape, marking where to sit to maintain social distance. We did our best to respect that. 

Most parishioners were wearing masks, as were we. A few were not.

The worship team sang. Most parishioners didn't.

Most took communion. A few did not.

Does any of that matter? Is anyone keeping score?

It's been a hard, strange year for churches. Changing guidelines forced creative response, investment in new technologies, hard conversations. Divided attitudes on everything from masks to electoral outcomes made some church sanctuaries feel unsafe or unwelcoming. Friends report leaving churches where the conflict became too destructive. Some pastors we know are exhausted: whatever they do, whatever they say, there's someone just waiting to attack. 

Our own church seems to have weathered the storm fairly well, but I find myself wondering, and praying, for the church writ large. Stats show that among younger generations, engagement with church in any way is dropping fast. Emotional distress is rising: anxiety, depression, loneliness.

If we're the body of Christ, are we a healthy body?

Last week I wrote about the book my daughter gave me: Finding the Mother Tree. I've been reading it, puzzling over descriptions of mycelium and mycorrhizae: the underground network of microbes connecting trees, plants, and fungi. When those connections are healthy, young plants thrive. When connections are lost, young plants are at risk. 

During my years of youth ministry, I became aware of Search Institute's Developmental Assets® Framework, 20 external resources young people need in order to nurture 20 internal strengths. Several I spent time thinking and strategizing about:

Young person receives support from three or more non-parent adults.
Young person perceives that adults in the community value youth. 

It seemed to me then that if kids knew and trusted at least a few adults within the church, that would help build an understanding of personal faith at different stages of maturity and provide a future resource when crises of faith emerged.

I've learned since that that need doesn't stop when teens graduate from high school or college. I remember with thanks the warm older adults I knew during my first years after college. I give thanks for Bible studies I was part of where Christians just a bit older, sometimes decades older, shared their faith, listened to my worries, regularly prayed for my concerns.

One challenge of this past year has been that the informal rhythms of relationship our church worked hard to develop were interrupted when we moved to virtual worship. Will we find ways to reclaim what was lost?

In many US churches, demographics find themselves siloed: teens; college students; young single adults; young parents and children; older single adults; older couples. 

I need prayer from people older than me: from people who have weathered the first years of retirement, who have lost spouses, who have learned to move slowly with dignity and grace. 

I need insight from people younger than me: young women still bumping their heads against invisible ceilings. Young moms struggling to balance expectations and demands and too little time. 

We all need conversation and friendship from people unlike us: older, younger, single, married, working hard in tough careers, learning new hobbies, processing illness and loss and change. 

The pandemic shattered some of those connections. 

So did the harsh partisan climate we've been living through.

I'm okay, but are there others who aren't? 

Digging through Search Institute materials this afternoon, reminding myself that nurturing relationships take time and intention, I found a resource, A Coronavirus Checklist for parents and teachers, one I'll be using as a prayer prompt in the days ahead, not just as I think of kids in my life, but beyond that. We all need someone to express care, challenge growth, provide support, share power and expand possibilities, no matter how old we are.

And we all, always, need prayer: an essential part of that invisible network of communication and resource. Not starting with us, not ending with us. Fueled, always, by love far beyond our own.