Perhaps you have crossed a bridge in your lifetime that also seemed frightening or exhilarating or unlikely. Many years later I hiked across the Brooklyn Bridge, just for fun, but perhaps it was a psychological win to cross the bridge without incident. And I have walked across the 2.7 mile Ravenel Bridge in Charleston. The Golden Gate is still on my bucket list.
At the church we are crossing bridges too. How shall we bridge the two thirds of our faith community still worshiping via live stream with the one third of our folks worshipping in person? What is the connecting point between the dozens of young families, young singles, and new residents who are currently visiting on Sunday with those in our church who share a similar life journey but for health reasons are still worshipping from home? Is there a way to bridge our shut-in and out-of-town worshippers with those active in groups and classes in person? How do we honor our traditional past with a modern future? At times when I ponder these questions, I feel exactly as I did while stuck at the toll booth in New York many years ago.
So I found comfort and hope in a recent phrase used by church leaders Sarai Rice and Susan Beaumont. They talk about how we are now in a liminal space, with one foot planted in the old reality and one in the new. It feels fuzzy. We are building the bridge while we walk upon it. In whatever ways you too are building a bridge while you walk upon it, perhaps you too feel the panic of someone honking and yelling!
Grace and Peace,