On Sunday my eight-year-old tested positive for Covid. Our family had done all it could, short of keeping him in virtual school for another year, to protect him. My spouse and I are vaccinated. All three of us wear masks when we are out and about. We assess the risk before we go anywhere. Our hands are raw from handwashing and using hand sanitizer. In the end, it wasn’t enough. Alabama’s full vaccination rate is the lowest in the country. My son’s school is old and poorly-ventilated, and I was particularly worried when I saw how small his classroom is. Our governor is begging people to get the vaccine, but she has refused to re-institute a mask mandate. Our school system is using her statement as justification for not requiring masks. (He is one of two students in his class who have been wearing masks.)
So, here we are. Our story is not unique, though. From the time Covid was first diagnosed in the U.S., we have all experienced the results of a cascading failure of leadership in federal, state, and local governments. In addition, some denominations and judicatories have been wishy-washy about Covid protocols, if their polity allows them to make any requirements at all of congregations. This has left pastors and lay leaders with hard decisions to make about precautions and little guidance or cover for making them.
No one entered the ministry to become a public health enforcer. But most did answer the call to help people grow in their love of God and care for one another. And so pastors worked with Covid task forces on how to do church safely, weighing needs for connection with the life-and-death realities of the pandemic. Clergy took on extra work, because every aspect of ministry is harder when you can’t be in a room with people. They also took on extra criticism from those who thought their leaders were being too cautious or who questioned the faith of people who also trust science.
In the spring, it looked like we were headed for better times. Vaccinations, which dripped out to the public at first, suddenly became widely available. It was exhilarating for those of us who had been hunkering down at home. And then…there were way more vaccines than people willing to take them. Delta arrived on our doorstep. Now we are right back in the soup, in some ways more protected, in others much more vulnerable than before.
Pastors, I want to thank you. As a colleague, as a parent, as a person of faith, as a believer in science, as a human being, I am grateful for the good care you are taking of all of us, even when we fight you on it. You are doing the important work that many leaders are abdicating. In her book The Art of Gathering, Priya Parker calls this exercising generous authority. You recognize that you have power, and you use it to the good of those you have power with. That sounds like someone I’ve read about in scripture.
Keep on being faithful. Know that even when the protests are loud, the support for what you are doing and how you are embodying the Gospel is deeper and broader than you realize. And be assured that your efforts are making a difference, not just through modeling what it looks like to be a follower of Christ but also by saving lives.
Photo by Kevin Butz on Unsplash.