On the New Normal

The new normal.  I keep hearing that phrase, but it will never be normal that we keep distance from people we love. It will never be normal for the church to “forsake the assembling together as is the habit of some.”  It will never be normal for us to venture out of our homes to do essential work or purchase essential items, but to do so in great fear. It should never be normal to refuse to hug, shake hands, kiss a cheek or reassuringly touch a shoulder. The concept of personal boundaries has taken on new meaning with a six-foot buffer of personal space. I reject this kind of normalcy.

There are aspects of the Great Quarantine that have been beneficial. We are perhaps more in tune with our families. Working parents who normally drive away each morning and leave the other parent at home with children are seeing the reality of a “stay home” mom or dad. Many are trying to catch up on home projects.

Some families are rediscovering non-electronic ways to spend time like board games or crafts.  I spoke to a man in my church who is committed to giving his wife an hour or two of “me time” so he takes a break from his working remotely routine to actively play with young children while she walks or yogas or reads.

We have new appreciation for teachers. One of my friends suggested that the day the schools reopen is the day teachers should ask for a raise, and that it would be gladly granted. We have hearts that break for families that have lost or will lose loved ones to this terrible pandemic. We have a fresh appreciation for the heroes who staff emergency rooms, hospital floors, and surgical units.

And some of us are rediscovering a devotional life. No breakfast meetings (it just seemed weird to eat eggs in front of a computer while someone else ate eggs in front of theirs). No staff meetings, except via telecommuting. No classes, no club meetings, no homeowners association or volunteer activities. Almost universally, minutes have been freed up, and for me at least, it has caused me to ask how I am filling those minutes (those of you with small children are appropriately eye-rolling me right now).

My point is that I am learning dependence. I cannot control someone sneezing on me if I venture out. I cannot control the shortage of medical equipment. I cannot control the continued bickering in Washington or the second-guessing of all leaders (likely including me). I can however seek God in prayer and scripture to see what He wants me to change in me. That I can control.

Father, thank you for a new day. Help me today to reach out to people who need to hear my voice, help me to redeem time with thoughts of You and others.  God, bring an end to this pestilence. Bring and end to the suffering.  Allow Your glory to be seen.  In this world, we will have trouble, but let the approaching of Resurrection Day remind us that You have overcome the world.

On Viruses and Dependence

Again, I have neglected my blog.  I last wrote while riding on a train with the amazing senior adults at Dunwoody Baptist Church. I have been blessed to be a senior pastor for almost 5 years now--6 if you count the interim year before I became full time.  It seems like I have had the experience of several challenges that have allowed me to grow as a Pastor and  leader. And the lessons have not always been easy. That is why I write today.

A national health crisis called COVID-19 or the Coronavirus has caused us to move our church services exclusively to livestreaming, our meetings to virtual ones, and our conversations to be via telephone or computer. We are isolated, by choice, caution and decree. We have time to think and write and read since we are not spending time in the car, not going to offices, not going much of anywhere.

So I am learning through this. Today, I reflect on some of what I have learned as a pastor after more than two decades as a seminary professor.  I have learned I didn't have as much patience as I thought. My wife warned me. I have learned (again) that I don't really lean towards strong mercy gifts. I have learned that I do not have as many sermon ideas as I thought. I have learned that I thought I knew a lot, but I really don't know much about being a pastor.  And I am learning that I know a lot about God, but I am discovering the joy of knowing Him better.

Maybe I am just getting older, but as various aches and pains remind me of my mortality and vulnerability, I find myself longing for a word. I find words in Scripture. I am finding them in a devotional book by Paul Tripp called New Morning Mercies. I am finding words in talks with my beloved bride (who is a prophetic truth-teller, especially when I am whining). I am finding wisdom in conversations with friends and church members and my brother.

And now a virus in our nation and around the world is causing all of us to assess and reassess what is important. We are staying in our homes, working remotely, keeping close to each other and trying to find ways to communicate. To connect. To create ways to spend time that do not involve endless vegetation in front of whatever streaming service is providing old content.

So I decided to write. God is teaching me dependence and humility all over again. In so many seasons of my life, I confess that I am almost like the cycle we see in the book of Judges in the Bible. People would drift far from God, sometimes subtly and sometimes drastically. They would suffer from whatever their decisions had brought on, or God would send a reminder of their human weakness. A judge or a prophet would bring a word from God, the people would repent of their pride and God would forgive them and help them rebuild their broken lives.

Living through hurricane Katrina, I trusted and wept and depended. Then I rebuilt and began to unintentionally distance myself from the Hand and Voice and Provision of God. Time seems at a premium in crisis, though with Katrina and now COVID-19, I know that is not true. I make time for what I want to do, what I need to do and what I think is urgent.

Today, I confess that my time with God is urgent. My declaration of my sin, my pride, my inability to fix things that only God can fix.  I am learning dependence. Let me know if I can pray for you in that journey as well.