Crucifix and hand sanitizer

Here We Stand: Lutheran Words on COVID-19

Hello, fellow mortals. Our lives have changed drastically in the last week with the coronavirus pandemic spreading to the US. Between fear, hand washing guidelines, social distancing, school closings, quarantine, and more—toilet paper shortage, anyone?—I think we all need some thoughtful, sane, and specifically Lutheran words to allay (and even lighten) our collective panic. So without further ado, here are some Lutheran words, grouped by category, to help us as we live with COVID-19.

1. Practical Help for Churches — Lyman Stone on Witness in the Plague: A Simple Tip Sheet for Churches to Manage Infectious Diseases Like COVID-19

Many churches in the US, Lutheran included, have cancelled services due to COVID-19 concerns. Others are grappling with how to possibly hold services in the midst of a pandemic. This resources is for the grapplers, as well as for the churches who will eventually reopen their doors with new considerations to this new, virus-sensitive world we’re entering.

Lyman Stone is an economist and demographic analyst. He’s also currently an LCMS missionary in Hong Kong with his wife, Ruth, and their infant daughter. At the beginning of March, as Hong Kong was already dealing with the threat of the coronavirus, he wrote what he called “a tip sheet for how churches can prepare for and respond to a COVID outbreak in their community” and posted it on Twitter. Rod Dreher, an Orthodox writer, linked the tip sheet over at The American Conservative, too. Full of practical, common-sense guidelines, and even some humor, the tip sheet can help all of us–pastors, elders, concerned laity–think about COVID in regards to our churches. A week ago, Stone also wrote how Christianity has been handling pandemics for 2,000 years and how churches must be a refuge in a time of fear. These are good reminders for our churches, and for us, in these uncertain times.

2. Spiritual Comfort for Concerned Lutherans — Rev. Brian Flamme on A Christian Attitude in Times of Widespread Sickness and Rumor of Death

Rev. Brian Flamme of Immanuel Lutheran Church in Roswell, New Mexico, wrote this brief article to console and encourage Lutherans and other Christians in the face of COVID. “When sickness and death test the foundation of Christian trust in God’s mercy, the the Scriptures teach a four-fold attitude of faith, prayer, compassion, and mercy,” Pastor Flamme wrote, citing many Scriptures for each category and pointing us back to our greatest comfort: the Word. “As rumors of the COVID-19 virus continues to spread, the anxiety gripping the hearts of our neighbors can threaten to overcome our own. Rather than submitting ourselves to extreme measures for the sake of emergency, we should examine our hearts, be instructed by God’s Word, and fulfill our obligations to one another in love.” In the midst of a wilderness that is scary, this is comforting. Amen, Pastor.

3. Blast from the Deadly Past — Martin Luther on Whether One May Flee from a Deadly Plague

The Bubonic Plague, or Black Death, killed between 75 and 200 million people in the 1500s. Something like 80% of people who contracted the disease died within eight days. In terms of infection rate, horrific suffering, and extremely high death rates, our COVID seems positively tame in comparison. Nevertheless, our feelings and fears right now echo those of our forebears, and Luther’s letter, written when the plague approached Wittenberg in 1527, is highly relevant (it’s linked here at the Lutheran Reporter and LCMS blog). Luther’s short answer on whether you should run or lose your head? Um, no. “[We] admonish and plead with you in Christ’s name to help us with your prayers to God so that we may do battle with word and precept against the real and spiritual pestilence of Satan in his wickedness with which he now poisons and defiles the world.” If Luther could say this in the face of the Bubonic Plague, we should listen.

A recent service at Redeemer, Fort Wayne, posted on the Redeemer Facebook page.

4. Church When You’re at Home — Streamed Services from Redeemer Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, Indiana, Matins at Kramer Chapel through Issues, Etc. and Daily Chapel podcasts from KFUO Radio

What to do when you can’t go to church? Most Lutherans have to spend at least some time at home missing church in this best of times, and now this quandary has only intensified with government recommendations on how many people can gather together publicly, along with those straight-up church closures mentioned above. For years, when I or my kids have been sick and had to miss church, I’ve tuned in to the YouTube channel of Redeemer Lutheran. My husband and I attended there years ago when he studied at Concordia Theological Seminary-Fort Wayne, and it’s a beautiful, confessional congregation. You can access years of services and even subscribe to the channel.

For those who would like to listen but not necessarily watch services, I also like the audio-streamed Matins services from Kramer Chapel at CTS-FW that Issues, Etc. shares (a resource all on its own I highly recommend, and one Rev. David Peterson from Redeemer speaks and teaches on frequently). Another good podcast for services are the Daily Chapel archives from the LCMS International Center broadcast by KFUO Radio. Many individual congregations are also putting services on YouTube or somehow making the Word accessible from home, and if that’s the case for you and your home congregation, please use those resources. But if you’d like to supplement them, or you don’t have local congregation online options, these are good online family altar resources.

5. Teaching at Home during School Closure — Rev. Andy Richard on Intermissio Coronae and Joy Pullmann on a 6-Step Quick-Start for Sudden Homeschoolers

We’ve had a good, if somewhat rough, start to our sudden homeschooling gig here this week (we’re on Day 2). Since we’ve done it in the past, it doesn’t seem quite as intimidating as it does to parents who are diving in. But we’re also rusty–I last homeschooled in 2016–so extra resources always help.

Rev. Andy Richard, the headmaster of Mount Hope Lutheran School, the classical Lutheran school where our kids attend, has been amazing at providing a daily newsletter, the Intermissio Coronae (that’s “Crown Break” in Latin, fairly obviously named) that includes beautiful artwork, a devotion from Steadfast Lutherans (which you can also link directly here), a musical selection, a poem, a proposition from Alcuin (old and hard riddles), and more. They’re already a highlight to our day–we like to read and share them at mealtimes. The Intermission Coronae issues for this week can be read here (March 17), here (March 18), here (March 19), and here (March 20). You can also subscribe to receive them in email form.

Another good Lutheran guide for sudden homeschooling is from Joy Pullmann, a Lutheran writer, wife, and mom. Her article for The Federalist contains some practical, reasonable how-tos for teaching and learning with your kids. While challenging, your emergency homeschooling can actually be fun, and these resources can help!

Photo by Elly Fairytale from Pexels

6. Family Bonding during Quarantine — Holly Scheer on How to Keep Yourself and the Kids Happy Through Quarantine

Everyone has to adjust to being home, together, all day, in a culture where that’s just not common. It could be a recipe for stress and frustration, but Holly Scheer, also for The Federalist, taps into our hyper-lawn-mower-parenting angst and gives us some calm. “I know this is strange, that the idea of schools shutting down feels bizarre, and having the faces of your children looking to you, expecting answers, highlights that those kids expect you to have an instant plan. You can do this. Jump into this unexpected homeschooling and you and the children will be okay, and may even deeply enjoy this time together.” I know we’ve discovered this in our home so far. Some structure is good, and so is some flexibility. We’ve now got the time to cherish our home life. That’s actually a blessing.

Coronavirus support ribbon with toilet paper
From a friend’s Facebook page. Thanks, Jeff!

7. Humor in the Unknown — Rev. Hans Fiene on Interviewing the Coronavirus

The old adage says that if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry, and there’s some truth to that. We’re all anxious, treading into unknown waters for who knows how long, and this can make us crazy if we have no reprieve. God’s Word is the best reprieve, for sure. But God also gives us humor. Rev. Hans Fiene, a parish pastor and creator of Lutheran Satire, gives us some COVID-19 funnies with his, ahem, interview with the coronavirus. Fiene asks some hard-hitting questions and gets honest answers from the virus.

FIENE: In his address to the nation last Wednesday night, President Trump urged us not to politicize you. But the next day, he and Joe Biden were attacking each other over the crisis. What do you think? As you’re becoming a bigger problem, should people put aside partisan squabbling?

VIRUS: No, people should definitely fight over me.

FIENE: In what way?

VIRUS: Preferably hand-to-hand combat. With spitting.

We’re all in this together–the good, the bad, and the ugly. So we might as well pray and laugh. Stay well, friends.

I kind of feel nailed right now, even though I’m laughing.

What are some good Lutheran words on COVID-19 that you’ve found? Please leave them in the comments, with links, if possible!

Loving Lunch, Loving School

It is said that food tastes better when shared with loved ones. People share sustenance, conversation, and time. They share themselves. This is one reason why I love to visit my older children at school during their noon meal. They attend Mount Hope Lutheran School, a small classical Lutheran gem here in Casper. In their twenty-minute lunch time, we chat a little, squeeze in hugs, smile at each other and their school mates, and eat. I get to visit briefly with their truly amazing, conscientious teachers and other parents. It’s short but special–one of those everyday but priceless experiences that I never regret making the time to do.

Last November, a friend and fellow mom brought up the idea of making an Advent dinner for the students and teachers. Our school is not part of any school lunch program, so the only times our kids get a hot meal at noon are at pizza lunches, bi-weekly events where Little Caesar’s reigns in the kitchen. The kids love it, and we moms like the break from all the brown bagging, but it’s not exactly five-star cuisine. 

Lunch ladies–and gentlemen, though they are few and far between–hold a warm place in my heart. My maternal grandmother worked for years as a school cook. She was born and raised on a farm, and fed and nourished five children, as well as family and friends on a regular basis, so preparing food for crowds was a natural love language for her. “What can I get you to eat?  You must be hungry,” she’d say to us at any possible opportunity, pulling out food–ham, potatoes, all kinds of dessert–at midnight when we’d arrive at her house after the long road trip to visit.

And it wasn’t just my grandma. At one small public elementary school I attended in Kentucky, the two or three lunch ladies were beloved–they made either giant homemade cinnamon rolls or yeast rolls every Wednesday, and they were gentle and friendly, just like Grandma. One gentleman at a former congregation, Tony, was a long time school cook, an amazing chef, and one of the genuinely nicest guys I’ve ever met. Another dear lady at yet another congregation, Lydia, was also a legendary school cook. She nearly single-handedly ran the large old-fashioned supper the church hosted as a fundraiser every year, with baked ham, raw apple cake and apple butter, and Lydia’s famous Schnitzel Beans always making an appearance. She never shared the bean recipe with anyone, not even my mother who asked for it several times, until she met my husband Jon. In Lydia’s bridal shower card to me, she inserted several hand-written recipes, and one of them was for her beans.   

All this is to say that I thought my friend Athena’s idea was a great one. Athena is a warm and enthusiastic lady, and like my grandmother, one of her love languages is to cook delicious food for large groups. She offered to make turkey and gravy and chicken nuggets–because let’s face it, she understands kid food proclivities–and a giant pan of her homemade macaroni and cheese. Another dear friend, Lisa, offered to provide chocolate milk–always a treat–and oodles of cut-up carrots and cucumbers.  I offered to make chocolate-chip cookies (from premade dough), homemade yeast rolls, a small batch of mashed potatoes, and Lydia’s beans. The bread recipe was one my mother shared with me years ago that I grew up eating at Thanksgiving and other holidays, so it just seemed fitting. The potatoes were for the small number of kids who didn’t like mac and cheese, and the beans–well, they have bacon, an obvious plus, and Lydia would be tickled to know they were served to Lutheran school kids. 

Let’s roll!

On the day of the Advent dinner, we met up at school in the gym, which doubles as a lunchroom, with our haul. Athena had thought to bring festive tablecloths and napkins, and our younger kids and another mom helped set the tables.  We’d timed all the baking down to the minute, prayed with Athena that the turkey would be cooked through but not dry, set aside the few rolls that fell off the tray into asphalt when I opened the van door, and lined all the food along the counter in a sequence we thought would be best.  We were excited and a little bit nervous–would everything go smoothly?

 

Me, Lisa, and Athena, ready to serve!

The teachers and students came in silently, as usual, and when all the classes had arrived, we all prayed together. Then the kids lined up at the window, and we learned fast why lots of hands are useful. The kids had options–turkey, dark or white, or nuggets or both? Gravy? Macaroni and cheese? Veggies? We quickly moved to one person placing bread and some veggies on each plate, with two of us filling plates for individual students per their requests, instead of each of us asking the same kid different questions. The students were overwhelmed with the choices, most of them quietly delighted with the food. The nuggets and mac were highly popular, as were the rolls. But the beans started going and were gone before I knew it–the potatoes, too. Lydia and my Grandma would have been delighted.

Just when we thought we wouldn’t be able to keep up, the line was finished. Several teachers and volunteers, including two pastors and the headmistress, came through. We filled our own plates and sat in the lunchroom with our children, sopping up messes with our paper napkins, relaxing in the happy din of a shared meal.

People in our culture are often overwhelmed by the thought of hosting a party or preparing large quantities of food for others. And yet homes built for “entertaining,” lavish television shows and ubiquitous media dedicated to food and sharing it surround us. We all want a shared table and are so often afraid to try to make one. In those times and places I have felt most loved around a table, the material evidences of such love are simple: hot food, offered frequently, with loved ones. That’s it. Well-chosen decorations are icing on the cake. The real value lies in the sharing itself.  

While we tried to give the teachers and students something special, there was nothing particularly fantastic about our meal. Rather, we wanted to give them those simple ingredients of what we have so loved about eating with friends at school and other places: hot food and togetherness. My favorite part of our Advent dinner was seeing the kids’ faces at the window. It was visceral–my hands covered in plastic gloves, placing beans dripping from a spoon or gooey macaroni on their plates, their hands taking their plates, splooshing ketchup next to their nuggets.

 

About to uncover the beans…

There are countless reasons why I love Mount Hope, and I will blog about more of them in the future, but a big one is that it is a family. Teachers give abundantly of themselves to our whole family and to the other students and their families, and vice versa. We share laughter and tears, countless planning and learning and striving. We share services in the Chapel, partaking of our Lord together, and we share meals in the gym. It is more precious than I can express. 

During Christmas and now Epiphany, we remember Christ’s incarnation, His coming to us in the flesh as a little child. During Epiphany, we will hear of the Kings who came to honor him, the Gentiles who were the forerunners of others who would come to know Him out of the great, wide world, who knew that He was the One who would reconcile them, the outsiders, to God. They touched him, knowing that He would open His hand to them, and He fed them, just as He feeds us. What a great and awesome wonder is this.