It is Sunday

It is Sunday. It has been over two years since I attended church in person. My church has very limited parking, being in the center of a historical town. I appreciate the beauty of that setting, but it is also why I rarely go to church except for very special occasions. You see, I have mobility issues and must use a walker if I am going to walk more than 50 feet. Often, people have to walk blocks to park and walk to the church.

For special events, my daughter drives me and drops me off in front of the church. And while she has offered to do that, she also has her own disabilities that make that difficult, so I don’t like to stress her out either.

All of this doesn’t mean I don’t go to church. As a matter of fact, I go to church more now than when I was the Rector (Pastor) of the churches I served. Why? Because of the miracle of modern technology. I attend via YouTube every Sunday from the convenience of my home, as do some 40-50 others. And when YouTube acts up, I am fortunate enough to be able to go to Facebook and tune into the service there.

There are things I love about this arrangement and things I don’t. I don’t like the isolation. There is something visceral about being in the presence of a worshiping community. One doesn’t get this from a computer screen. Or even from my large screen TV when I “Cast” the service there.

When my spouse was alive, we would cast the service to our East Wing TV (we have a long townhouse with two “wings). Then I would set up a TV table with a linen, a chalice filled with a bit of wine, and a paten with two pieces of bread. There would also be two candles and a small cross. Like being in church. At the appropriate time in the service, I would consecrate our bread and wine, and we felt like we were truly a part of the service. Sometimes now, I still cast the service to a TV, but usually not. There is no one here to share it with, and I rarely consecrate the hosts just for me.

But what I do like about this arrangement is the convenience. I don’t have to drive and walk blocks to get to my pew. I don’t have to depend on my daughter, and I can have a cup of coffee during the service. I can also get up and go to the bathroom without a hundred eyes on me as I walk from my usual second-row pew. I can also say “Good Morning” to my daughter as she goes into the kitchen for her coffee. I can stay through the Prelude, or I can leave anytime earlier without anyone knowing. And yet, I still miss the presence of the community. Always will.

Until next time…