By Kāheaokaleolani Subiono
More than a year into the Coronavirus Pandemic and here we are. After an abundance of virtual gatherings, growing pains, and a great deal of determination, we find ourselves looking back on the lessons we have learned and looking forward to the day we will be able to gather in full spirits again. For many of us, we have only had the energy to take each day as it comes. There has been a great deal to learn in what seems like a year filled with pain, chaos, and loss. But I have found that healing starts with listening. It must begin with open hearts, lowered barriers, and room for growth. We can see this need for listening reflected in the Church and in our worship leadership as all of our “normalcy” has left our grasp, and we have been pushed to innovate, learn, and re-center our trust in God. This is where we learn to search for hope while leaving space for lament.
What We Are Learning
One of the most encouraging aspects of the Angeles Worship Initiative is engaging with the Cohort Churches. It’s been so life-giving to listen to the various ways they are working in ministry right now. Efforts are being made to implement intergenerational worship and allow for shifted perspectives so that worship is characterized by its diverse expressions. We see leaders moving towards service-based ministry which includes stretching a hand out to those who have been marginalized. Youth programs are being created and offered so that there is a space for the next generation of leaders to grow and receive mentorship. Virtual platforms have been opened for choirs and orchestras so that they might have just a bit of “normalcy” and engage in community with those who share a love for music and worship. These steps and opportunities remind us that God does not pause ministry in the middle of a pandemic. Instead, He allows us room to re-center our focus, hearts, and trust in Him.
The Immediacy of Technology
I also have had the privilege of listening to conversations revolving around worship in the pandemic. One unique area we have seen substantial growth in is technology. The state of the worldwide pandemic caused churches to close their physical doors and transition to some form of online service. Yet it is no secret that we live in a time with potential for connectivity that transcends state lines and boundaries. This was not only a moment for growth within tech teams but also a challenge for Church leadership to dig deeper into areas that might have seemed unfamiliar. Our “normal” groove had been thrown off and we had been stripped back with the big question: how will we serve the congregation and meet the needs we now have? With open minds and a shepherding mindset, we have seen a significant step forward in our online services, innovating ways to intentionally reach out to our people (virtual outreach, online events, personal one-on-ones, etc).
Although we have seen so many great things come out of the increased technological connection, our leaders have expressed concern about a potential unbalance of media use. Could it be that the very digital fabric that connects us could be the thing to tear us apart? This adds greater validity to the question: how will we overcome the division media creates and how do we become shepherds in this new format? I think part of this comes from a balance of embracing technology's abilities while keeping ourselves in check. Sometimes we have to take a step back and check in with the people we are serving. How are they feeling about the platform we use? In what ways can we support them better? How might we be able to provide what they seek or need? What may feel like a limitation, by not being able to gather in person, can be shifted into an opportunity to create a new bridge and a more genuine connection in creative ways. Here, we are pushing against conforming to the world as Romans 12 advises us to do. We must learn to re-envision and recreate.
The limits placed on us by Covid-19 have taken away the “ease” of in-person conversation, yet have caused us to become better at intentionally reaching out and building relationships. I believe that is part of what worship encourages us to do: build bridges and nurture authentic relationships. Genesis makes it clear that we were not meant to be alone. We crave community and connectivity and as much as we might think we can thrive alone, we were formed to have, and to be, neighbors. We have been called to shepherd and minister. As I have learned, ministry is about serving and fostering community. So, how do we create a space for community and a foundation for hope? This answer is not particularly easy, especially with the ever-changing protocols of this season. The best we can do is reach out, innovate, and remain open and inviting. We must be soul-caretakers first. We must care about people first.
An Ethnographic Approach
I’ve recently encountered the idea of implementing an ethnographic mindset in ministry. What is an ‘ethnographic mindset’? It is an approach that allows us to sit back, open our hearts, and truly listen with the intention to understand. The truth is, each person we interact with, virtually or socially-distanced, has a story to tell. Although everyone is experiencing this season differently, we are all experiencing it. Sometimes it feels like the Church’s role in this is to be hopeful and provide that shred of sunlight for someone to hold on to. While that might have some truth to it, I believe there is an equal need for a safe space to lament. This year has had its fill of losses, political tension, and darkness. As Church leaders, we cannot forget to provide room for lament and grief without the guilt of “needing” hope just because we are Christians. Jesus, himself, wept and made room for the despair we so deeply feel. Indeed, He was the hope of mankind, yet He reminds us that emotions are a guide and we must remember that even hope can come from knowing we are not alone. Instead of blaming us for lamenting, God sits next to us, leans in, and whispers, “I know, I remember, and I am here with you.” Perhaps that is part of our responsibility too: lament with our brothers and sisters without offering a follow-up cliché of toxic positivity.
If nothing speaks to you so far, I pray this sticks with you: we are truly in a learning moment and we have an opportunity to move forward in a collaborative, open, and new way. The truth is, one day we will gather again in person, doors will open, and it will feel like we can breathe again. Let us be a part of making sure we use the time we have before then to the best of our abilities. We may be socially distanced, but we will remain socially driven.
Micah 6:8 calls us to love mercy, walk humbly, and act justly and I believe we were made to do just that. We are called to step out and walk forward in faith.
May His peace go with you today and every day.
Biography of Author
Hailing from Honolulu, Hawai'i and rooted in Southern California, Kāhea is a singer/songwriter, artist, and performer with a passion to craft music that moves people. She has worked with, learned from, and performed with artists such as Irie Love and Mailani Maka'ina'i who have influenced her blend of folk, indie, and soul music with the occasional funk flare. Kāhea is headed into her fourth year of studying Music and Worship: Vocal Performance at Azusa Pacific University. Her interest in ministry and passion for storytelling has cultivated her desire to serve as a bridge to help heal hearts and impact the world.
