A few Sundays ago, as a coronavirus epidemic was rampant in my hometown of New York City and I was the only one at home, I let the acacia at night rise a second time as I went to, almost, church.
Getting out was not really an option. In an effort to reduce the prevalence of covid-19, many areas where people gather were closed. The bars, the gym, and the movie theaters were all closed. In response, many things went online, including religious services.
I have always been fascinated by religion, whatever religion I have practiced that has changed over the years. Prior to joining video game journalism, I received a Master & # 39; s in theology from Harvard Divinity School, where I joined the school's LGBTQ group and helped organize a different faith service each week.
My daily life these days is very secular, and most of the religious conversations I'm involved with are now on Facebook, where a group of my friends include people from my school-leading days as ministers and pastors, or who serve as theologians and religious activists. . For years I followed the procedures of ordination by my friends, spoke theology, and heard about the joys and hardships of their congregations. But I never saw their services personally until I turned off the covid-19 stuff.
That first Sunday, I was checking Facebook and waiting for my loaf, my feed was full of prayer dreams. From the ease of my bed to bed, I got to watch my friends lead the services, witnessing empty toilets while participants I heard a lot about flickered in conversation. I watched the minister of one of the Universalist students, crashing into the camera, and noticed that he had not lit a symbolic chalice until the service. I was looking for another service at the church my sister attended. It was nice to see where he served, or it would leave me with some modern praise music in my head all day. These services helped me to feel closer to my friends, and they took me back to how I felt about those div div church services, praying to traditions that were not my own.
Marked by the need to taste my bread, that in the morning it feels like an oasis, to bring us back to skills and habits that I almost forgot I had. It felt strange, but nourishing, to find something specific in the midst of so much pain.
The services of the seemingly new religion of Catholic Mass have been shown on TV for decades, and churches such as Lifechurch have long been on the Internet – but when most people think of being served, they are probably thinking of going to a building. The illegality of the closure of the monastery has reinforced the view that coming together is the essence of what it means to practice faith.
But during the epidemic, many people were left with no choice.
My Christian friend who started attending church services last week told me he loves you. “Watching our service on (Facebook Live) was really fun because I saw all my friends watching at the same time … the only downside is missing parts of it because there is no childcare. Worse about not taking care of the kids, though, was seeing my kids dancing faith music. ”
A Jewish friend explained his resignation with video conferencing: "A lot of Jewish prayer involves singing together, but Zoom can't handle that, so everyone was silenced and I think they sang it for themselves."
While visible worship has been a privilege for some, it also offers new opportunities: my Jewish friend continues, “The most wonderful moment was when the old lady started crying because she hadn't been to church in six years. I hope that live streaming becomes part of my synagogue service. ”
The religious leaders I spoke to described the technological, sensory and other challenges that encompass their ability to perform online services, but they do.
"What I see most people experience is the depth of connection possible in Zoom's intimate worship, or the willingness and need to allow some sense of perfection in the face of soft (and subjective) technology problems," Presbyterian pastor Alex McNeill told Alexander myself. “In this crisis of covid-19 we get used to being in church more than just going to church. I hope these habits will stay with us once the social networking is complete. ”
Rules about houses of worship during the epidemic vary by state – in New York, it is still annoying important businesses, although Governor Cuomo has encouraged congregations not to meet in person, the advice seems to be listening.
Some religious groups have been reluctant to give up. Early hasidic Jewish communities in New York chafed against being isolated from society. A megachurch pastor in Florida was present arrested failure to obey the country's laws against large gatherings. Reuters he does interviews and several Christians still believe in personal worship, with some respondents viewing physical worship as their religious activity, or as resistance to a government that violates their religious freedom and right to assembly.
But others have accepted the need. Mosques around the world have them closed, including those in Mecca, and others spreading their prayers over megaphones while reminding people to stay home. Sikhs have been eating the free food they serve directly to people in need. Buddhist teachers conducts dharma discussions and free meditation sessions online.
Some religious people have viewed the refusal to meet as an extension of their faith. In response to President Trump skipping the idea of reopening the country at Easter, Mennonite theologian Melissa Florer-Bixler wrote The travelers that doing so would be “a perversion of all our worship.” Minister of Public Leadership Jake Morrill write, “A full Easter week may be a church that emphasizes the value of the stock market more than the value of one's life. The full week of this Passover will be just a religion of death. ”
Most of the people I know have moved to online worship, seeing their need for public health. But switching to an online service there quickly shows how digital interaction is different than coming together. The Rev. Kit Lonergan, guardian of St. James Episcopal Church in Groveland, Massachusetts and my Harvard colleague, told me in an email, "It's so sacred to see human hands open to fellowship, or to somebody cry on your shoulder and feel the tears and tears lingering there for a while, or to be able to read in person's eyes how they really do ( not just New England & # 39; good & # 39;). So nothing we do online can replace this. "
Prior to posting the worship on Facebook Live, St James had been using Zoom, as well as Skype and SpaceTime, for the church business. However, one congregation in Lonergan was not like real technology, some not using email or cell phones regularly. St. James used Zoom and Facebook Live for their visual worship, broadcasting a single service for three weeks in their category. The worship was led by three people: Lonergan, a tech-savvy legislator, and their music director. Lonergan found the problem complex: "Accessing Wifi, hot spots, and connecting Zoom to Facebook Live in three pages, was harder and more detailed than I thought," he wrote. "We ended up with various phones, iPads and laptops we were all referring to, full of songwriters at various places in the newspapers. We probably should have done some dry work, but there was no time or opportunity. Our first task was to stop the church from hurting people, and to do whatever we were doing is at the bottom of the list of priorities. ”
Lonergan said there are about 40 viewers in the St James & # 39 ;, broadcast, and the numbers are the same on the other two Facebook broadcasts. Most people may have been watching the applause of any of those viewers. While churches usually see about 60 people on Sundays, he noted that many people who do not attend church services have also seen worship online. Church members, he said, were surprised at how easy it was to join the service and offered to help them improve it. He admitted that running the service was difficult. “On the Internet, and I can't see everyone joining us, I felt very vulnerable. I was completely exhausted after a 45-minute service, and I've done a few hard things in my life. ”He added," A last-minute suggestion made by a colleague that if you serve online, you may want to wear more of a casual look – it might be the last thing on my mind, but it threw me in a loop! "
Rev. Sarah Taylor Peck, senior pastor at Community Christian Church in North Canton, Ohio, and one of her senior colleagues, told me in an email that her church had been living with a radio for their services. In response to the public downgrade, they redesigned the app to have "more editorial and creative capabilities" and hired a freshman at the University of Kent to produce it as a video. They have removed their participants and their ministry is led by their musician, new and young children's teachers, along with him. DVDs of the program are available to parishioners by mail, and Community Christian Church has also left DVDs out of the building for believers to take, as well as worship, transcript of this service and other home worship services.
Congregations have responded positively to the new process, said Peck, by sending others “photos of their relationship back home, and we received many messages of support. Some watch with mimosas, some with coffee. Our teens have created their own mix of crackers and lemons as they watch on their PJ's. ”
While many congregations are entering worship service for the first time, churches that have been serving temporarily should also change things. Last year, I wrote about it GodSquad, a Twitch and Discord-based church focused on gamers, their pastor, Matt Souza, previously serving at the Assemblies of God church. GodSquad recently found a prominent place in a church in the state of Souza in Virginia; Souza told me in a recent Discord interview that they were planning to start worshiping someone before the gates would hold those plans. While GodSquad's weekly services remain unchanged, they have begun making movie family nights, daily devotionals, and small groups on their Discord server to promote the community. "People need more than just an hour of video to watch on Sunday," he said, emphasizing the help of chat windows so that congregants can interact during services, and, in the case of GodSquad, Discord rooms and small groups.
"Many people think that online services are a bad thing until the coronavirus hits, and now they realize it's true," Souza said. "I think this will force the church to realize that there are many opportunities we have not used."
Souza said that in Facebook groups for less than a week, he sees church leaders meeting on sectarian lines to share tech tips. "Sometimes sectarianism can divide people," said Souza, "unfortunately, as with all this, I have seen it almost unite the churches" as leaders share their failures. He told me that GodSquad is currently in the process of putting together broadcasts for other congregations to use.
Rev. Alex McNeill, another Harvard Fellow and Executive Director of Many Presbyterians are shining, an organization serving LGBTQIA + Presbyterians and their churches, has seen changes in the wider church as a result of online worship. "In the Presbyterian Church we believe that God is constantly changing and transforming the church, and that the church is not limited to the holy wall of the sanctuary," he told me in an email. "However, this moment of epidemic allows us to adapt those beliefs and move from the comfort of the common people into the design and sometimes the discomfort of the Holy Spirit."
McNeill said he often visits churches as part of his work, but that the attendance of churches to be worshiped online has led him to "meet more Light More churches than I can in one month." Many luminaries have called for churches that provide support, and creation a list of sources of queer congregations and transbyterian advocates spreading their worship. The organization has also hosted a Zoom call to support pastors and has begun to focus weekly on topics such as caretakers working away from technical issues.
While online worship opens up opportunities for people to come together in new ways, the absence of a meeting together can be very difficult for some people. "Communities affiliated with LGBTQIA + have long been a place of rest and a place of care for marginalized communities," wrote McNeill, noting that LGBTQIA + people are most at risk, whether they live in houses that do not support their identities, or work low-wage jobs that start cutting when companies tighten their belts. ”She hopes More Light churches that serve" can mimic what it is like to look after those who are above your sacred walls, "and add," The Queerans and regular travelers have always found a way to be a community when there is no way. "
In a letter to her church announcing the move to open worship, Peck wrote, “We are a church because we love one another and serve and pray for one another – not because we all live in the same room on Sundays. May you find peace, assurance and hope in these rare times. ”