The Coronavirus Blues

By Joe LaGuardia

I think I have what I am officially calling the “Coronavirus Blues.” Here I am, without having to quarantine myself or miss out on too many gatherings (since our county does not have any cases of the virus), and I have been depressed for the last week of what surely will be a loss of community and human interaction.

As a pastor, I believe that most people in the ministry (I’m willing to take a poll) thrive on community, human interaction, and routine. We value community because its what we ministers do: gather people, guide people, encourage people, inspire people, anticipate the Spirit’s empowerment of people. Ours is a Gospel of disciple-making, not detachment.

Although I have not neglected community, I can see it waning around me. Our church was half-full last Sunday. I don’t blame anyone; we have an older population, the most vulnerable to the virus. People have reached out to me to let me know they won’t be coming, so I wasn’t surprised. And, yet, I feel a pang of loneliness. “Welcome,” writes Jamie Metzl, “to our disembodied future.”

People mean a lot to us when we shepherd a congregation. Its all so depressing!

We pastors yearn for human interaction. If you were to talk to most ministers, you’d likely learn that the reason why we got into this business was (1) God’s calling and (2) we enjoy experiencing the relationships that make ministry tick. We like journeying with people in faith, supporting people through the rigors and rites of passages of life, and edifying those who are in need and hurting.

Its not as if we like the attention we get from helping people. We sincerely like cheerleading and encouraging people along the highways and byways of growing together in Christ. We long for experiences, not accolades. We worship God for miracles in the lives of others, not seek men’s praise.

And I’m sure that pastors like me like routine. We depend on a very intentional rhythm that moves from Sunday to Sunday: Sunday, we preach our hearts out; Monday we rest and visit; Tuesday, we prepare for mid-week ministry; Wednesday, we meet with staff and cheer on our fellow ministers who do youth and children’s ministry; Thursday and Friday are days dedicated to writing that sermon; and then, Sunday, it starts all over again.

This rhythm is our life-blood. The exhausted pastor says, “Sunday comes every week, and we have to have a sermon for every one of them!” But the pastor also says, “Sunday comes every week, and it brings order to my life!”

This virus has ultimately interrupted my routine. Meetings are cancelled. I don’t see the people I normally see through the week. I miss hugs from seasoned saints who have hugged their pastors for over 70 years; and I feel lost now that Sunday won’t see the advent of the next worship service (we are closed this Sunday…).

A long time ago, my wife and I noticed that I get the blues whenever I went on vacation or an extended trip. We asked what my problem was: Was I that restless that I got depressed whenever I wasn’t “working”?

No, I get down when my routine goes awry. This virus has interrupted everything, and I can’t even get a package of paper towels (its our routine to buy a package once a month, and we just ran out at home!!). You know how annoying that is? To go to the store and deal with people buying things that we are not likely to run out of in a week or two? I’m just glad I have enough toilet paper for the next week. I swear….

So here I am, World! Please tell me I’m not alone, because I know I’m not. This is the coronavirus blues, and I ain’t the only one singing them! Comment below and share your woes. We have the time.

Awaken to the World

By Matt Sapp

During Lent at Central Baptist Church (the six weeks between Ash Wednesday and Easter) we’re focusing on the humanity of Jesus and the ways that Christ’s teaching “awakens” us to what it means to be fully human.

This spring as we remember that God has a hand in all of creation as it awakens from its winter slumber, we’re praying each week that God will awaken us, too–and in these five ways.

Awakening to Scripture
Last Sunday we looked at two potential responses when faced with temptation. One approach to temptation is to buttress yourself with the word of God. Jesus literally quoted scripture to turn back temptation (Matt 4). Adam and Eve, though, were easily convinced that God’s word wasn’t true—or that it didn’t apply to them—when they rather easily gave in to temptation (Genesis 3).

Let me challenge you to use Lent this year as a time of awakening to scripture—as a time to reflect on the role the word of God plays in your life. How familiar are you with scripture? How often do you read the Bible? What habits can you develop to help you both embody and believe the word of God?

Awakening to Curiosity
This week in worship we’ll explore the value of honest questioning and of acknowledging intellectual uncertainty as we look at the story of Nicodemus (John 3). It’s okay to have questions for God. It’s even okay to have real, lasting uncertainty about the full nature of our faith.

Let me challenge you to use Lent this year as a time of awakening to curiosity—and as a time to enter into conversations with God and with one another about real questions that may not have easy answers—or ANY answers—but that allow us to explore our faith more fully.

Awakening to Guiding Narratives
We all carry unconscious stories that guide our thinking about our lives—internal narratives that we tell ourselves about who we are. Many of us have mostly good internal narratives. Some of us can be pretty hard on ourselves. But no matter what your internal narrative is, the story that God would tell about you is far greater than the stories you are telling about yourself.

We’ll explore this idea as we talk about the Samaritan woman at the well in a few weeks (John 4). Let me challenge you to use Lent this year as a time of awakening to the internal narratives that guide your understanding of who you are.

Awakening to New Vision
The thing about blind spots is we don’t know we have them until someone else calls it to our attention. When Jesus heals a man who was born blind (John 9) the whole community—and especially the Pharisees—were forced to acknowledge blind spots in their thinking.

You may have some blind spots, too. Blind spots in your relationships. Blind spots in your behavior. Blind spots to things you don’t know or properly understand.

When we acknowledge our blind spots, we have the chance to gain new vision. Let me challenge you to use this Lent as a time of awakening to your blind spots and as an opportunity to increase your vision.

Awakening to God as a New Creator
On Palm Sunday (Matthew 21), the crowds were cheering the arrival of a king. And Jesus IS a king. But Christ is not the kind of king the crowds were expecting.  Jesus is not someone who comes simply to upgrade the talent on our team. Christ is not the All-Star who swoops in to help us win the big game. He’s not just a good guy here to help us defeat the bad guys.

When Christ comes, he comes to introduce us to a whole new game, governed by a whole new set of rules, and aiming for a whole different set of outcomes. If we’re looking for someone to step into our game and play by our rules and become our champion, then we have a grave misconception about what God is doing in Jesus Christ.

God is coming to create something completely new! Our job is to understand the new rules, to play the new game, and to get on God’s team—rather than expecting Christ to join our team.  Let me challenge you to use this Lent as a time of awakening to the full scope of what God is aiming to accomplish in Jesus Christ.

And, one more challenge: Be in church as often as you’re able between now and Easter. These weeks of preparation really are worth it. They help us wake up to all that Easter means for our lives and for our world.

The Reverend Matt Sapp is pastor of Central Baptist Church, Newnan, Georgia. This article was reprinted with the author’s permission.

Heads up, Light Touch, and Keep Running!

person holding rectangular white photo frame standing on rock formation near body of waterBy Rev. Matt Sapp

A few years ago, I gave my wife Julie a hang-gliding trip as a birthday present. We spent the night in Chattanooga and got up early in the morning for a lesson at Lookout Mountain where she and two other students spent a few hours with an instructor to learn the basic skills of the sport.

They got comfortable with the weight of the glider, walking first on level ground and then jogging and even running with the glider on their shoulders.

Once they got comfortable on level ground, they started working with the glider on a slight slope and then on increasingly steeper hills. And as they started jogging and then running down these hills—with this huge glider wing above them—they actually started to take off!

The glider started to lift them up into the air, at least for a second. And then all of them did the exact same thing—a great big Superman belly flop into the grass.

When the glider starts to lift you up into the air, beginning hang-gliding students have three natural reactions.

First, they look down because they feel as if they are losing their footing. Second, they grip the metal bars of the hang glider as tight as they can, holding on for dear life. And third, they tend to stop running and try to leap into the air in an attempt to give the glider the final push it needs to really take flight.

And when you do those three things, you do a great big Superman belly flop into the grass.

So guess what the hang gliding instructor kept shouting—over and over again?

Head up! Light touch! Keep running! Head up!! Light touch!! Keep Running!!

Head up, light touch, keep running. That repeated mantra has stuck with me. It’s not just good advice for hang gliding students; it’s good advice for all of us in 2020 as we face what has the potential to be a pretty turbulent year.

Keep your head up in 2020. There’s a lot going on around us this year, and tensions seem to want to run unusually high. It can be easy to want to just hunker down and wait for calmer waters. But Christians shouldn’t feel bowed or beaten down by even the most challenging of seasons. The ultimate Good News of scripture is that God’s presence endures in wonderfully powerful ways, especially in challenging times. So count on God’s presence, be God’s presence, and keep your head up.

Handle things with a light touch in 2020, too. Don’t cling to issues or events too tightly or approach people with an overly heavy hand. We all have a lot on our plates, and most people just want what’s best for our community and world just like you do. So use a light touch.

And keep running in 2020. Don’t let the feeling of being overwhelmed or exhausted knock you off your feet or put you on the sidelines. Keep plowing ahead faithfully in the fields where God has placed you. Know that your presence, your work, and your Christian witness matter—and keep running.

The Reverend Matt Sapp is pastor of Central Baptist Church in Newnan, Georgia. This article first appeared on the church’s blog, and is reprinted with permission.