Community After COVID

Reflections on (Re)-opening Our Parishes

by Archpriest DAVID GARRETSON

As we seem to be approaching the end of a lengthy pause in “normal” parish life, we have an opportunity to examine with faith and with fear our life as Christians, parishioners, servants, and members of one another in Christ. It is a chance to consider what does and does not work in our parish life. I believe this is nothing less than God resetting His Church. A time of retreat and reflection is a part of a healthy Christian’s life. We all are looking to be free of the various limitations (or boundaries if you will) imposed by the pandemic. If we are honest, we’ll admit there were many other boundaries to our true witness to the joy in Christ even before those made necessary by the medical emergency. I would like to explore, given the theme of the issue, what we in our specific parishes can do to remove those boundaries to the proclamation of the Gospel. Of course, this sort of discussion is based on each of our lived experiences and may seem irrelevant or even mistaken. I simply would ask, as they say at AA meetings, that you “take the best and leave the rest.”

The first boundary we have in our parishes is the inability to truly see Christ in one another. One of the parts of parish life I miss the most due to the restrictions is coffee hour. Specifically, I miss the casual, seemingly trivial conversations I had with my parishioners after the services. Of course, the services, and especially the Divine Liturgy, fully manifest the reality of the Kingdom of God here and now. But without parishioners being with one another in community outside of the services, they cannot put into practice what the services have given them. On this count, live-streaming technology isn’t much help. Without actual face-to-face contact, we can love our fellow Christians while finding our fellow parishioners annoying (a variation of the Groucho Marx line, “I love humanity, it’s people I can’t stand!”). We do not love our neighbor in abstraction but despite all the minute ways they offend us and get on our nerves. Our isolation has heightened our desire to have things “our way” without the practical realities that come with living with others. Rebuilding shared community is our first challenge as COVID is brought under control. We know how to prepare for reopening our parishes from a health-and safety point of view. Now we need to pray and plan for the spiritual dimensions of returning to common worship and fellowship.

But we also need to look at the barriers we put up for people in the wider world, for those who don’t attend our services. Several decades ago, there was real controversy regarding “barrier” issues such as language, calendars, and even the idea that parishioners could be other than “our” (Russian, Greek, Serbian, etc.) people. Since then, healthy pastoral leadership has put those issues in the rear-view mirror in most of our communities. Autocephaly has been achieved, and there is a vision of a church in and for North America. We have our services live-streamed over the internet and most of our parish facilities are handicapaccessible. I would suggest that while these reforms have broken down significant barriers, we have left greater ones in place.

Over the years I have been privileged to visit many parishes, from all jurisdictions, throughout North America. Especially in urban environments, I notice a disturbing clue to the boundaries we set up in our parishes. Often the name of the church is in English and the native language of the parishioners, yet the “No Trespassing” signs are in English and Spanish! This cannot simply be dismissed as fear or even racism. The underlying problem is the attitude this suggests toward surrounding neighborhoods. It communicates that the parish building is an exclusive place. While many parishes may not have such obvious “signs,” can we honestly state that, if our parish closed, anyone other than our parishioners would notice or even care?

When the first Russian missionaries were sent to Alaska in 1794, their passage and expenses were underwritten not by the Church, but by the Russian-American Company. This was typical of the era. The officers and staff of the company expected that the monks from Valaam would concentrate on ministry to the Russians working in Alaska and those indigenous people who entered into relationships with the Russians. It was to the consternation of the officials of both the Russian government and the Russian-American Company that the missionaries, most notably St. Herman, advocated for the native people who were being exploited by the Company. The missionaries saw all the people of Alaska as their parish.

Another example of a missionary being challenged to expand their vision of ministry is in the famous encounter between St. Innocent of Alaska and St. Nicholas of Japan. During one of his numerous journeys, St. Innocent stopped to visit the newly appointed chaplain to the Russian Embassy in Hokkaido, Fr. Nicholas Kassatkin (as he was then known). It appears that Fr. Nicholas saw his ministry as simply taking care of the Russians attached to the embassy and those Orthodox who happened to be passing through. It also appears that he spent the majority of his time translating French novels into Russian. St. Innocent, who was already a bishop, upbraided the young Archimandrite and encouraged him to engage with the Japanese people. The result of that encounter was the young priest’s transformation from an inwardly focused chaplain into St. Nicholas, the Enlightener of Japan.

Both of these examples (which can be found in Paul Garrett’s biography of St. Innocent) illustrate that most of our parishioners are not formally identified with our parish! Teasing out the example of St. Nicholas of Japan, is our parish a chapel or a parish church? A chapel is an institution which focuses its ministry on a specific group of tightly defined people. A hospital chapel and its chaplain, for instance, are responsible to the patients and staff of a specific facility. parish church, on the other hand, is called to minister not only to those who self-identify as parishioners, but to the entire community. Broadly defined, I would submit that anyone who considers themselves parishioners or needs assistance from a parish are de facto parishioners. I do not know any parish priest of any Orthodox jurisdiction, or any other faith tradition, who does not have a considerable number of people whom he has never met who consider themselves his parishioners.

For certain legal reasons, most Orthodox churches in North America have a concise definition of who is and is not a parishioner. However, those reasons are not in the Gospel, nor even in the canons, but in the various property disputes that have troubled the Orthodox church. Part of our church culture is to see “ministry” primarily directed to those who are “parishioners.” I remember the first time I saw in the narthex of an Orthodox Church an extremely detailed menu of charges for various sacraments and services. There were two columns of prices: one for parishioners and another, higher set for non-parishioners—talk about boundaries! I started laughing so loudly that I had to leave the church (followed by the candle-desk lady who assured me that since I was coming around so much, Father would give me the parishioner price!).

Sadly, I need to clearly state, given the factionalism of the times, that I am not advocating open communion or becoming a wedding chapel for all and sundry. However, I am advocating for a change of vision of what parish ministry is and who it is for. This means the removal of all man-made boundaries to sharing the Gospel which we have erected, however comforting we may find them. Lest this sound too nebulous, I am proposing the following concrete areas where we can expand our ministries out of the chapel model and into those of a fully functioning parish.

• Offer parish facilities to community groups without reservation or fee. (It is good practice for the group to provide an insurance rider).

• Have a substantial, intentional way to respond to needs within our communities.

• Sponsor food and clothing drives to support local food pantry.

• Make almsgiving a dedicated part of our operational budgets.

• Encourage parishioners to staff local homeless shelters, food banks, and the like.

• Offer parish facilities to host town meetings and events. Often municipalities are required to pay for such rentals. This income can be directed into further community outreach.

• Make sure our parishes are “good neighbors”. Keep facilities clean and well maintained. Allow neighbors to use parking lots and their children to play on the grounds. Would you consider attending a church that chased your child out of their parking lot?

• Speak to the neighbors. Invite them to services and remember their names.

• Support local first responders, police, and EMTs, and offer facilities for their events (again, without charge).

• When someone is visiting, make sure that trained, intentional greeters welcome them. Follow up with them.

The final and most difficult boundary we need to cross is the one within ourselves. While we are comfortable in the external details of our church life, talking from our hearts about Christ is often difficult for most of us. When people ask us about our faith, do we begin with the joy that Christ has brought to our life, or do we focus on secondary issues, such as why our celebration of Pascha/Easter is later? Sharing details or data keeps us behind a boundary; it keeps us “safe.” People are hungry for transformation and meaning in their lives. They don’t need religious Trivial Pursuit answers—they want to hear from our hearts and our lived experience. As Christians, this is our primary responsibility to the entire cosmos.

I recognize that this final boundary can be frightening and intimidating. We are often afraid we will give the wrong answers. But we can never go wrong if we speak in love and in faith in Christ. As we reopen our parish communities, we can pray for and strengthen one another to become one together, by becoming fully alive in Christ. We can accomplish the removal of boundaries to our individual and collective maturity as Christians through prayer and action.

Resurrection - Descent into Hell, with Feasts and Selected Saints

Russian, 16th c. Arkhangelsk Regional Museum of Fine Arts

The typical Paschal icon is properly called the “Harrowing of Hell.” In this icon the Risen Christ reaches out to bring Adam and Eve out of bondage in Hades. In our prayers we need to humbly ask God to show us what practices and assumptions we have that may be hindering us from growing closer to Him. This is not simply a prayer of repentance, but a matter of asking for a revelation and for courage. Christ stands on the gates of Hell. The ultimate barrier to human salvation is destroyed by the Resurrection. That same power gives us the vision and the courage to destroy whatever boundary there is between our life together and the Joy of our Lord.

V. REV. DAVID GARRETSON is is the rector of Ss. Peter and Paul Russian Orthodox Church in South River, New Jersey. He is a union organizer and negotiator with the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees.