Image Description: A french horn. Public domain image.
In the midst of stay at home orders, church services have changed quite a bit. Over the last five weeks, I’ve been Zooming with my local church in Ann Arbor. Though separated in our various homes, our time together online has been meaningful and surprisingly intimate. In some very real ways, we’ve grown closer. It’s a reminder that church has never been the building. Church is always the community.
While communities are all dispersed from one another, Zoom has bridged some distance too. Because after this service was over on Sunday, I zoomed right into another one. I was able to join my folks at Farm Church in Durham, North Carolina. Every time I visit, I love being with this community. Typically, we spend an hour outside getting dirty while gardening. Then we come inside to worship in ways that are creative and meaningful. My mentor was the co-planter of this community (pun intended), and it has been special for me to follow this community from the the beginning, when it was merely an idea and a dream (by the way, a literal dream — like a middle of the night one — check it out).
It was Easter Sunday. And while I would do just about anything for this pandemic and quarantine to end, I also recognize that it has allowed me to do things I wouldn’t be able to do otherwise, like be with Farm Church on Easter.
And I love how Allen Brimer, pastor and co-planter, started our time together. It was appropriate to the day and wonderfully silly. He talked about resurrection as a holy disruption, so… we were invited to be disruptive. He gave instructions, and then we were off to make disruptive sounds.
GO! People started vocalizing, and I immediately ran to get a pot and pan. Others did the same. There we were banging, yelling, making silly sounds, and then…. bwahhhhhhhhh… someone just started playing a french horn. And we all burst into laughter.
It was such a goofy, wonderful, perfect surprise.
Holy disruption. This time we’re living is painful and dangerous. It’s disrupting our daily lives and limiting what we can do. I have no desire to assign silver linings to it. That being said, midst of it all, I suppose it is resurrection-like when we are able to connect differently. I can Zoom into Farm Church, sure. But beyond that, it is also inviting us to connect differently — not just in format (something like Zoom) but in substance. We are invited to take care of each other on a whole different level, and I see expressions of this almost daily. We are invited to realize we are more connected than we think we are. This aspect is a Holy Disruption we need.