Being Community
in the Midst of Pandemic

Fourth Sunday after Easter • May 3, 2020
Reading: Ruth 1:1-18
Pastor Jeff Wells, Lead Pastor

Naomi and Ruth were bereft. They were both widows. Ruth was newly widowed and in mourning. They had to be devastated and afraid. At that time, women were not eligible to inherit their husbands’ property, which would go to sons or the closest male relative. So unless some male relative was willing to take them in, they were at risk of falling into poverty and homelessness. Naomi told her daughters-in-law to go live with their husbands’ families. Naomi herself was ready to travel back to Bethlehem to throw herself on the mercy of her deceased husband’s family. But Ruth was determined not to go back to Moab. Instead, she threw in her lot with Naomi. And she did it in such an impassioned way. Let me recite again what she said: 

Where you go, I will go;
where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people,
and your God my God.
Where you die, I will die –
there will I be buried.

If you have read the Book of Ruth, you know the story gets much more curious and complicated. But for today, all we need to know is they stuck with each other to get through their desperate circumstances. You see, they were already related by Ruth’s marriage to Naomi’s son, but now, even more so, they became “chosen family.”

You know what I mean, right? Most of you have biologically-related families in which you were raised. Some of you have good relationships with them – at least some of the time or with at least some members of your family. Some of you, on the other hand, feel pretty alienated from the families into which you were born. 

But then we have our chosen family or families – those people who come into our lives and who we choose to build strong bonds and mutually loving relationships with. The people we can count on and they can count on us. That’s what Ruth and Naomi had. At their lowest moment, in their time of despair and anxiety about their future, in their lament over the loss of their husbands, homes, and land, they clung to one another. They chose to love, care for, and support one another and seek together a future with hope.

That’s how I think about our community in the Church of the Village. We are chosen family together. We are here for one another in good times and in hard times. I have never before seen that in action so passionately as I have in the past two months. Our chosen family has pulled together even more deeply. We have assured that everyone is accounted for and each person knows their life matters right now. We built on the existing structures and processes of our community and also created new systems and procedures to keep track of and provide care for the well-being of every member and a large number of long-time and many new supporters.

One place that has played out with profound impact is in our praying for and reaching out to one another. That reaching out in love has extended well beyond the pastors and the Ministers of Care. Leaders and members alike have taken it upon themselves to FaceTime, call, text, and email, each other to check in. That is true particularly in our lament with and for those who have been ill and those who have lost loved ones. It’s been so moving to see the outpouring of love and support for persons who are suffering, anxious, fearful, lonely, and grieving. 

That’s not something to be taken for granted. Joining in another person’s suffering and lament is not an easy thing to do. As Pastor Alexis said in her inspiring message on Thursday, we humans don’t tend to be especially good at doing lament in the best of times. She wrote, “We try to move quickly through grief, thinking we’ve processed fully, and force ourselves to move on. And now we are faced with, by many accounts, the worst of times.” We need to stay with lament when it is difficult to do. Holding each other in our pain is crucial now. Communal sharing of grief is so essential and so powerful. 

While we are not all personally experiencing financial stress, isolation, suffering, and grief in the same ways, we are certainly all experiencing this mass traumatic event that is the global pandemic and the shut-down of large parts of the world economy. We are all experiencing varying levels of anxiety, grief, fear, dislocation, financial stress, and even trauma in the midst of the pandemic. It feels like an emotional roller coaster ride and it takes a toll on us, even when we don’t even recognize. Diane and I were talking on Friday about how tired we feel so often these days. It’s not so much a physical fatigue as a psychological, emotional, and spiritual fatigue. 

At the same time, lament and suffering is not an either/or proposition. We can stay in the space of lament and, at the same time, feel gratitude, offer prayers of thanksgiving, and experience joy with new parents at the birth of babies. Lament and praise, suffering and joy are integral parts of our lives. 

Two things ground me and keep me moving forward in the midst of the pandemic. The first is being in this beautiful, loving community with you. I love you so much and I feel so loved by you in return. The second is that every single day I experience God’s loving presence among us. Those two things feel so critical right now for our mental, physical, and spiritual healing and  well-being. God is there for us and we are there for each other. There is a balm in Gilead – a balm for our bodies, minds, and spirits. 

Recently, one member talked with me through tears about the multiple terrible losses he has suffered in this pandemic, while being sick, quarantined, and lonely. He was not sure how he was going to endure all of this. Then, he signed up for the new round of Roots groups out of a need to stay connected in the midst of his grief and pain.  

Another person who has been active in the Church of the Village for about a year and recently lost a beloved relative to the COVID-19 virus told how grateful she was that she found our community. She said so many COTV members and leaders reached out to her and how much it is helping her get through this painful time. 

Still another new person in our community told me she felt physically better knowing people are praying for her. I am sure many of you have felt the power of others praying for you. 

Churches have been described as “hospitals for the hurting.” Our sense of chosen family, our love for one another, our praying and crying out with each other have all made very real what it means to be a community of followers of Jesus. All of this is the ground of our community – our holy ecological system. As in Jesus himself, God’s love and justice and forgiveness and compassionate care are embodied in us. That is what this community feels like to me. We are centered around worship, but that holy ecology extends broadly to all of the ways we help meet one another’s needs.

In this beautiful, loving, compassionate community, we are chosen family. In many ways and through hundreds of personal and communal interactions, we speak to each other a paraphrase of the words of Ruth to Naomi: 

Where you go, I will go;
when you lament, I will lament;
when you feel joy, I will be joyful;
I will love you and you will love me.
your people shall be my people,
and your God my God.

Amen.

(c) 2020 Jeff Wells
All rights reserved.

            201 West 13th Street, New York, NY 10011               
212.243.5470