A few weeks ago, I woke up with a sudden and sad thought: I miss being a pastor.
Oh, sure, I’ve been preaching online for a while. But it’s nowhere near the same as being in a room together with real people, being able to see smiles and nodding heads. For the most part these days, I just hope that my sermon makes coherent sense. I miss being a pastor.
And, yes, we’ve been able to conduct meetings and the business of the church through the wonder of Zoom; but I don’t feel nearly as productive, and I don’t feel like our conversations have the energy and flexibility that comes when we’re able to talk quickly or even over one another. I miss being a pastor.
And, true, worship has not really stopped since we went online. But I have to admit that worshipping at home has lost its earlier novelty; and now I stress about production value, and technology woes; and what to do about all of those people who cannot or will not navigate an online church world. I miss being a pastor.
And, I have to admit, the phone does work in a pinch to connect with people. As does email. Or socially-distanced visits. But it’s nowhere near the same as sitting in someone’s living room and holding their hand as they grieve. I miss being a pastor.
I don’t have a solution to all of this yet. And I don’t mean for this article to get you down. But I want to let you know that you’re not alone in your exhaustion from all that has happened in this past year. Nor are you alone in your eager desire to return to something resembling normal. Please know we’re working on it. We’re getting things ready, and getting plans in place for us to be able to start resuming things in as safe a way as possible. And we will keep you posted on those plans as soon as they are actionable.
Until then, know that I’m praying for you from afar for your health, your safety, and your peace of mind. That, at least, is one thing that this pastor can still do!