Church goers, particularly clergy and congregational leaders, are eagerly awaiting a return to “normal” life when we are no longer subject to the consequences and impacts of a relentless and devastating pandemic. As people of faith, we call upon past images of freedom from slavery in Egypt, the return from Babylonian exile, the raising of Lazarus, or the Resurrection as familiar and reassuring visions of transformation to a new life. They are all hopeful and optimistic. They are part of a collective story that we hold deep in our hearts. No matter what our circumstances, they have taught us to be fundamentally, even radically, optimistic .

To quote Hebrew Scripture “then were we like those who dream…..”

Yet, with all this in mind, we also recognize that this season of isolation, uncertainty, and loss, with all its trials and tribulations, will result in change. As with any crisis, it will have a lasting impact both individually and corporately.

Let me start by saying that the concept of “returning” after a crisis is itself an illusion. Recovery, not return, is what happens after a disaster, and this will be no different. We will need to adapt to a new reality and frankly, adaptability has never been our strong suit.

So, here are three of my predictions.

First, the church will be smaller.

In person worship will be an incremental process. While the doors closed quickly, people will return to the pews only when they feel safe and comfortable. For some, this will be immediate, while for others it will take time and there will be those who choose not to return at all. After over a year of online church, people have acclimated to church at home and will expect some form of this ministry to continue, particularly for those who are home bound. The die hard members will return “shouldering their sheves “, but for the less committed it can be a different story.

So, I believe that the church will be smaller. Membership and church attendance will be lower, and that has a profound impact. Liturgy is different. Worship with 250 people is not the same as with 50. You cannot design a service in the same way. Income goes down. People notice when others are missing and in some way they feel loss and grief. When someone is absent from their normal seat, we feel, see, and hear the difference. It is both palpable and inescapable.

Second, pastoral care (or more specifically, it’s absence) matters. We look to Priests and Deacons for collective as well as personal spiritual guidance. When the crisis is over people will remember if their clergy were either proactive, responsive, or barely visible. Did they offer daily worship and model a life of prayer? Did they speak to the issues, concerns and anxieties, both verbally and in writing? Did they reach out with personal contact to check on parishioners? Did they create opportunities for meaningful interaction and connection with and between parishioners? Was church merely a Sunday thing?

Where were they when I lost my job, or couldn’t pay rent and needed food? When I was sick or alone or grieving the death of a loved one, what kind of support did they provide?

When all is said and done, people will remember whether the Ordained, and in particular the Rector, made any real difference as they suffered through a crisis. Will they look back in gratitude and thankfulness or will they feel yet another absence?

This can have a lasting impact not only upon pastoral relationships but upon people’s trust and confidence in their church.

Third, the cultural, demographic, and social changes brought about by this crisis will challenge the church as we move forward. Here, the prophecy becomes more clouded. We know that some trends are emerging or gaining momentum. It is likely that urban demographics will change. We already know that many are relocating, if they can, to smaller cities and communities. For a church tied to formidable real estate and aging buildings, this exacerbates an existing problem. How do you respond when the building designed for several hundred becomes a cavernous albatross?

In a culture where church is increasingly irrelevant, we can expect increasing numbers of people who profess no particular faith or affiliation and are securely and comfortably non religious.

I believe the principal question that is emerging from this time, both politically and socially is one of trust. Where do we place our trust? In science? Our leaders? Our sources of information? Experts? Academics?

It is how we answer the question of trust that is creating an unprecedented divide in our country. It is why there are mutually exclusive versions of what is real or un-real, it is what feeds conspiracy theories and radical domestic terrorism. It determines who we listen to, our world view, and how we vote. It also prohibits public discourse and genuine debate.

Reminding me of God’s love is a great start but I need to go deeper than “Jesus loves me this I know”……