Fighting Isolation Through Online Ministry

I had a painful realization during the pandemic about how we had been engaging in (or rather not engaging in) ministry with certain members of our community. Prior to the stay-at-home order we received in 2020, I had been in staunch opposition to “online ministry.” Before we were all quarantined from one another, pastors and churches had been moving to online formats to try to reach a broader audience. However, my convictions about our very human need to share actual space—serving bread to one another from the same loaf, and breathing in rhythm together as we sing (in addition to a very real resistance to ever being on camera)—seemed reason enough to continue to encourage in-person offerings, alone. Eventually, though, we all were thrust into an online-or-nothing season, for which I relented. 

Then I met Gee Gee Ferrier. 

For those who never met her, Gee Gee was luminous. Her spirit was light and joyful, positive and encouraging. The bright side seemed to be the only side she could see. She seemed accepting when the season came that she could no longer attend worship at her beloved St. Mark’s on Sunday mornings, though it had been such a significant ritual that brought her great delight.

I met her after we began streaming services, and she must have shared every time we interacted how grateful she was to be connected again to her church by watching online. It made me realize how painful it must have been for so many in seasons past, when limits to mobility or health concerns became preventative for people to be present in the community they loved. Online was not the same as being physically together, but it alleviated some of the grief of disconnection, and made a way for more people to be and stay involved in the life of the community they love. And now, I wouldn’t think to eliminate this critical means of being in ministry together. 

This Sunday, in our exploration of practices of Revolutionary Love, we’ll learn about what it means to “fight” harm and injustice in non-violent ways, and remember the power we wield to eliminate or defend against harm toward others when we choose to stand with them and for them in love.

I hope to see you there.