Remember How Brave We Were? Curating our Covid Stories
I know what you’re thinking. Jenn, we don’t want to remember our COVID stories. Why would we want to remember a chapter of our life that was so disorienting and painful for so many of our churches?
Here’s what I have to say to that. Remember how brave we were?
Early on… as in “two weeks to flatten the curve” early… I remember hearing some people say that we were all experiencing a collective trauma. At the time it didn’t feel like trauma. It just felt like strange, unnavigated territory.
At first it was about preserving the worship experience through the livestream and providing direct support for the community: sewing masks and supporting the warming center. Then there was calling all of the family units in the congregation, assigning a covid task force and bolstering council as they made complicated, multi-faceted decisions. (The kind of decisions where no matter what you decide something is right and something is wrong.)
Recently, the Wisconsin Council of Churches shared a brief Documentary called, “In a Strange Land: Stories, of Courage, Faith, and Resilience During the Covid Pandemic.” You can watch it here:
As Executive Director Rev. Kerri Parker notes, "We are prone to forgetting the details very quickly on the other side."
Here's the description of the video: "This documentary by the Wisconsin Council of Churches, working with Carter Designs, is the product of many, many hours of interviews with folks across the state of Wisconsin about the impact of COVID-19, particularly on faith communities. We share these rich, heartfelt stories and encourage you to watch with an open heart as you, too, reflect on the changes in your life and communities since early 2020."
If you haven’t done this yet, it might be a good time to think about archiving your own congregation’s covid story. Here are some potential steps:
Archive your formal decision making process. Collect congregational letters, documents, meeting minutes, covid plans, and web copy that you used to communicate your action plan during covid. Stick them in a binder or a digital file.
Make sure your policies are up to date. This might be a good time to develop an emergency plan or create a crisis communication plan if you have not done so. Are there other procedures or policy that have been reshaped since covid? Consider how you might bring things like your personnel policy up to date.
Assess the livestream. For many of us, the livestream developed out of crisis. Take time to assess: Is the current livestream still connected to our broader mission and vision of the congregation? If so: Is the way we currently administer the livestream sustainable? Do we need to do some training? Do we need to make a plan for audio/visual updates? What is our strategy for engaging online participants?
Collect your stories. Take the time to curate firsthand accounts. Gather those who provided leadership during covid time: council exec teams, covid tasks forces, homebound members… have them share their own account of what they were thinking and feeling at the time and how the ministry of the church impacted and shaped their lives during those times.
Share in a liturgy for lament, thanksgiving, or healing. So many of us are still hurting from the way covid reshaped the church. There is sadness and even anger over those who left. Weariness in decision making lingers. There are new and innovative approaches to ministry that were born. Return to God through worship. What would it look like to share in a healing liturgy for the community? Collective trauma “is a thing.” I told someone as recently as last week I felt guilty for what covid did to the church. I know the decisions we made were group decisions. I know we did the very best we could with the idea of caring for the safety of the church. And, I still hold onto the interactions that were ugly and unhelpful. I’m looking into a continuing ed course on religious trauma and trauma informed ministry while doing some of my own work.
Remember how brave we were. So many of us realized that if the church did not gather, the economic wheels could better turn, schools could more quickly get back to in-person, and so on. The long-short of it is: many of us will never know the direct impact for the good that came from not gathering. But we trust that perhaps because of those decisions, lives were saved. If nothing else, we can trust we put the health of the community first.
“Behold, I am doing something new. Now it springs forth - do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. ”
Rev. Jenn Pockat
Associate to the Bishop, Director for Relationships and Resources
