We come back around to March.

March 2020 was when our worlds shifted dramatically, when horizons shrank, and much of our lives became ruled by something called “Zoom”. 

I confess to you, people of God, I am tired. I am tired of Zoom. I am tired of my house. I’m even tired of only seeing my family face-to-face. As an introvert, I lasted longer than some. But the other day I found myself thinking longingly of airport security check lines, and that was when I knew that COVID had broken me. 

We come back around to Lent. 

Lent 2020 was when we were told we would shut down for 2 weeks (!) and everything would be fine. And then everything would be back by Easter. Then Pentecost. Then September. Then we kind of stopped guessing. 

Between you and me: it feels like Lent 2020 never left. We just tried to pretend that it did. 

Lent is intended to be a season of reflection and repentance. We certainly have done some reflecting and repenting in the last twelve months! We have struggled with one another—over masks, over in-person worship, over singing, over air circulation—in 2020 we learned that we are excellent at finding ways to be in conflict with one another even over Zoom. We are born children of a fallen humanity, and these 12 months have done nothing to change that. 

 Lent is also a time of struggle. To struggle with what it means to be people of God in a world that is convulsing at the rate of change—societal change, political change, climate change, educational discrepancy, income inequality, and more. We have struggled to know how to use our voices, when to take a stand, when to keep silent. In speaking out, we enrage some. In keeping silent, we enrage others. What is the right path for us to be on, as individuals, as congregations, and as the Church? Are the Church and her leaders called to be apolitical? Does this match the behavior of Jesus in the Gospels? How do we function together when the World outside is telling us that anyone who disagrees with us is a sheep? Or evil? Or bent on our destruction? 

But Lent is also a time to search for God. To rely on God in a wilderness, to trust in God even when it would be easier to go our own ways. And we have searched for and found God—through unexpectedly holy moments during Facebook live; through regular worship opportunities with our friends in Tanzania (we never would have tried that, had COVID not forced our hands); through ways God used digital worship to reach those who do not enter our church buildings, but are seeking God just like we are. 

Lent is not intended to be an easy season. And we’ve had a full year of it—and even though there is hope now that wasn’t here six months ago, we are still far from life as “normal”. There are those among us (myself included) who wonder if “normal” is really what we should return to after a year as chaotic as this one—or if this year was a gift, intended to show us what needs to be let go, and what needs to be made new, to move into the future Church. I have no answers—certianly no easy ones—but I know that the God who has sustained us through the perils of 2020 will continue to be with us through whatever 2021 brings. My prayer is that it brings us life where we expected death. Joy where we expected despair. Laughter where we expected tears. My prayer is that after a year of Lent, we will see Easter.

Bishop Kristen Kuempel