Whether service is digital or drive-in, Easter’s message of hope will come through
The Baptist congregation of Plymouth Church in southern Wake County would like to celebrate the resurrection of Christ this Easter Sunday as it has for as long as anyone can remember, with a sunrise service in the church cemetery.
But with the governor’s order in place banning gatherings where coronavirus could spread, Plymouth’s pastor, Chris Partin, will broadcast a message of hope using Facebook Live instead.
“We are one though we are not together,” he will remind his congregation of about 250, some of whom belong to families that have attended Plymouth for generations. Partin will assure them that while — for now — they must keep a safe distance from each other, “God never distances himself from us.”
It’s a comforting message for Christians in the Triangle and in churches around the world where the COVID-19 pandemic has forced the substitution of pixelated preaching and praying for in-person fellowship.
For many Christians, Easter is the most important day in the church calendar, the culmination of Holy Week and the commemoration of Christ’s triumph over death. According to accounts in the New Testament, Mary Magdalene and others went to Christ’s tomb on Sunday morning after he had been crucified on Friday. They found the tomb open, with the stone rolled away, and an angel told them, “He is not here. He is risen.”
For believers, the story of Christ’s resurrection is the fulfillment of Biblical prophecy and the source of faith in an afterlife.
‘All of a sudden, I’m a televangelist’
The constancy of the Easter story stands in stark contrast at the moment to nearly everything else about church for those who regularly lead or attend services. But many congregations, including Plymouth’s, Partin said, are trying to make the most of the switch to online communication and a return to the use of phone calls as a way to check on folks who might feel lonesome and isolated.
“All of a sudden, I’m a televangelist,” Partin joked. In his 14 years as pastor at Plymouth, this is the first time he’s really used Facebook as a medium for preaching. But his wife’s technical skills in setting up his broadcast from the living room at their home, combined with his singing and guitar-playing on hymns and familiar praise music, have proved successful.
More than 2,000 people have watched some of his sermons during the pandemic, Partin said.
Geoff Bradford, pastor of Christ the King Presbyterian Church in downtown Raleigh, also has been surprised by the popularity of online events for his congregation.
“It’s been amazing to watch,” Bradford said. “We do three prayer meetings a week right now, and we’ve never had that before.”
Many prayers are needed, Bradford said: for the sick and their family members; for health care workers, for people who have lost jobs or are worried they will in coming weeks; for the elderly, who are more vulnerable to serious complications if they contract COVID-19; and for the poor of the community who already were struggling and may have fewer places to turn for help during the pandemic.
Soon after the illness began to show up in North Carolina, Bradford said, his church began collecting food and donations to help families in need.
“This is an opportunity for the church to remember what the church is,” he said. “It’s not the building or the big show on Sundays. It’s people trying to follow Jesus and care for their neighbors.
“This may be one of the best things that ever happened to the American church: a reminder of why we’re doing what we’re doing.”
That sense of renewal overshadows, at the moment, the fact that the congregation of Christ the King won’t be able to gather in person on a downtown rooftop for an Easter sunrise service, as had been planned. Instead, the church will broadcast a good Friday service and an online version of the sunrise service that was prerecorded.
Church ‘has been through worse than this’
For the regular Easter Sunday service, also online, the church’s music director plans to knit together a performance of sacred music using remote recordings of several church singers and musicians.
“It’s not a disaster that we can’t have an Easter service [in the church building],” Bradford said. “It’s complicated and it’s frustrating but that’s everybody’s life right now.
“The Church of Jesus Christ has been through a lot worse than this.”
Micro First Baptist Church in Johnston County is “a hugging church,” pastor Tim Stevens said, and it’s been hard for members not to get together since mid-March, when Gov. Roy Cooper banned large gatherings. But most of the 85 or so people who normally sit in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings have been logging onto Facebook to hear Stevens’ live sermons instead.
The first week, he preached about how the Bible says, “Do not fear.” The second week, he reminded the congregation that God says, “When trouble comes, you’re not alone.” The third week, he told them the induced quiet is a good time to listen to God.
For Easter, Stevens’ said, he doesn’t want to talk about the pandemic.
“We’re going to be celebrating Christ’s resurrection.”
And they’ll do it in person, sort of.
This Sunday’s service will be an experiment with drive-in church at Micro Baptist. Members can park in the lot, keeping spaces between the cars and, with their windows rolled up, listen to Stevens preach an Easter message as he has done 41 times before.
He’ll broadcast over a tiny FM radio station, the kind competitive Christmas decorators use to sync their lights with holiday tunes.
Like so many other things people are searching for during the pandemic, Stevens said, “I bought it on Amazon.”
Deacons on watch in the parking lot
Stevens said he has checked with the state and has approval for the drive-in service, as long as everyone follows the rules. With deacons in the parking lot to enforce a no-hugging rule, he said, “Actually, they’re going to be a whole lot safer than they would be in the parking lot at Walmart.”
The church will have to forego its annual Easter sunrise service, Stevens said, which it usually celebrates with one or two other local congregations.
Stevens is aware, he said, that some people feel the ban on large gatherings is an infringement on people’s right to worship freely. But he’s not trying to challenge the rules, and said he would not have planned the service if state or local officials advised against it.
“I don’t take this, as some people do, that the government is telling the church, ‘You can’t worship,’ because we are worshiping in other ways,” he said.
Most people in his congregation, Stevens said, are still getting paid if they’re not working because of stay-home orders. But he knows that if manufacturing doesn’t return to normal soon, some of his members will have financial trouble.
So while it may seem unfortunate to some that Easter 2020 will fall during the restrictions meant to slow the spread of a pandemic, maybe a little Easter is just what people need right now.
“No matter what is happening in the world, Easter is a time to celebrate the resurrection,” Stevens said. “That’s the one positive message there is: a message of hope in the midst of any kind of hopelessness.”
This story was originally published April 10, 2020 at 8:00 AM.
